Irish looked at me and grinned. “I’ll have an iced tea, please,” and he turned his eyes to me.
I grinned back at him. “I’ll have a glass of your house white wine, please,” never taking my eyes off his.
Beep and I turned to find my phone. I fished it out of my purse and it stopped before I could see who’d called.
Now Irish’s phone rang. He reached for it and turned it toward me.
“Who is it?” I squinted.
“It’s John.” He leaned back and smiled but didn’t answer it. “What time is it now?” he asked. I looked at my phone. It was eight-nineteen. My head flew up and he was chuckling.
It was funny, I thought. “You know that was mean, don’t you?” and he grinned back at me. He was so flipping adorable, I thought, looking at him. This was the first time I’d ever felt as if I had someone on my side when it came to John and I liked it.
The waitress brought us drinks and took our orders. While we ate dinner, both of our phones went off multiple times. We let them take messages. When the waitress came for our plates, Irish excused himself and went to the restroom. I finished my glass of wine and tossed the phone in my purse. We left as soon as he returned. Jennifer didn’t say a word as we walked out into the night.
When we pulled up to Judy’s, her car wasn’t there. “Irish, when you told me in your note that you spoke to Judy, did you mean spoke or sent her a text?”
He parked the car and looked at me. “I called her with your phone,” he said, looking a little sheepish.
I smacked his arm and smiled at him. “I don’t care that you went in my purse, I just want to know what she said.”
He looked up and off to the side as if trying to remember the conversation word for word. “She said she had a date,” and he turned his face to me. “With someone from work, yeah, and that you knew where the key was.” He smiled, pleased with himself. I bent down and fished for my phone. Seven messages total, six from John.
I scrolled up to the first voice message from Judy. Hey, J.C., I spoke to Irish. I guess you were sleeping. I’m glad that everything went okay with John at the funeral. I told Irish that I might not be home when you get here. I actually have a date with a really cute guy from the office. Don’t worry, he’s not in my department, but I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. But I will be home. Love you.
I closed my phone. “It looks like we’re going to be unsupervised,” I laughed.
Irish helped me get all three suitcases into the house and to my room. I reached for my cigarettes and phone, with Irish following me to the patio. We sat down in chairs, both satisfyingly full.
Chapter Ten
“What do you want to do tomorrow,” Irish asked, tilting his head to the side, smiling handsomely.
“I’m not sure, but I could really use a shower right now,” and I grinned at him. I was trying to reference our shower in San Francisco, but he didn’t give me the right response.
Looking serious he said, “No really, Jurnee, what do you want to do tomorrow? It’s your birthday.”
Tomorrow was Tuesday, June 10th? I stared at him trying to account for the last several days. He was right…tomorrow was my birthday. I sat back in my chair, pulling a cigarette from my pack. Irish stood up and fished his lighter from his pants. We smiled at each other, remembering our first day out here on the patio.
“Well, I don’t really know,” I said. “Don’t you have to work?”
He sat back down after he lit my cigarette and leaned all the way back in his chair. “We could get up early, go downtown, get licenses, drive to Vegas, and get married,” he said grinning.
I shook my head. “You’re crazy, but you know that already, right?” I stared at the sky, trying to separate myself from his piercing stare and that silly grin.
“I think your mom would be a little upset if we did that Irish, don’t you agree?” He didn’t answer. I looked and he was holding up his phone, scrolling through numbers.
He looked at me. “I could ask her,” and he flipped his phone open.
I felt my eyebrows pinch together and my mouth fly open. “You’d better not, Irish,” and I sat straight up in my chair.
He stood up. I could hear it ringing. I took a deep breath hoping that he was messing with me. With his back to me I heard him say, “Hey Mom,” and he turned around and smiled at me. I froze. He wouldn’t tell his mom something like that over the phone, I assured myself. I felt the heat rising in my body.
Irish looked away from me and continued talking. “I wanted to call you first, and give you some good news.” He looked into the sky. “Remember I told you all about Jurnee?” and he began rocking back and forth, still looking at the sky. “Yeah, John’s sister,” he said. “Well she asked me to marry her.” My mouth fell open. I didn’t even feel myself stand up. “Yes, I know, it surprised me too,” he said, looking at the ground. “Well, I said yes, Mom, and we were thinking about going to Vegas tomorrow.” He turned and looked at me with a serious expression.
I have no idea what my face looked like. I was speechless. “I know that she is, Mom, I’d bet my heart on it.” We stared at each other.
“No, we’d come straight home tomorrow night; Dad mentioned I have to get up to San Francisco and sign papers on the house. This will be a quick trip” and he winked at me, smiling. What the hell was he doing? I was silently screaming inside.
“No, Mom, you’re the only one we’re telling. Would you keep it to yourself until we get home tomorrow night?” He looked away from me. I sat back down.
“I love you too, Mom, see you tomorrow,” and he closed his phone.
I stared at him until he turned and looked at me. He wasn’t smiling and looked way too serious. “I want this more than anything, Jurnee, and now it’s up to you.”
I didn’t know what to say. We stared at each other until finally I took a deep breath, my hands covering my face. “You’re sure, Irish, this isn’t a stupid mistake? I don’t even know your parents’ names.” I heard his steps coming toward me.
He bent down and reached his hand to my face and I looked up at him. With his finger under my chin, he said, “I’m one hundred and ten percent sure, Jurnee. This isn’t a mistake, I assure you.” I could feel my eyes filling up and I was pulling at the fabric of my jeans. “Please trust me,” he said and stood up, pulling my body with him. He hugged me tightly and I took another deep breath.
“Do you swear that was your mom?”
He chuckled. “Yes, I swear that was my mom, and she was surprised but also happy for us.” Pushing me back just enough so that he could see my face, he said, “We need to get birth certificates and make a plan. You need to tell me if we’re going to do this, and we need to leave early.” I was looking at him and I did hear him, but I needed a few minutes to process it in my head. I put my face into his chest and he held me in his arms.
Married? Was I going to be any good at marriage? I felt Irish squeeze me gently, and I pushed back and looked into his face. “Okay” and I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Let’s get married,” I announced.
Irish smiled at me and touched my nose with his finger. “Let’s go tie the knot,” he whispered.
Irish drove to his house to get his birth certificate and some clothes. I looked through the paperwork in my room and picked out some clothes, folding them all neatly in a stack on my bed and putting my birth certificate on top and then went to take a shower. With a towel still wrapped around my head, I sat on my bed and went through my purse, making sure that I had everything I needed for tomorrow’s trip. When I picked up my birth control package, I only had three pills left, so I reached for another pack from my suitcase. I needed to make an appointment before I could get another refill.
When I was sure I had everything, I picked up my phone and went through my messages from John.
First message: Hang up.
Second message: Another hang up.
Third message: Hang up.
I decided to delete them all, tos
sing my phone on the bed. It had to be after eleven o’clock, I thought, and I was really hoping to talk to Judy before we left town. Just then I heard the front door open. I jumped up and waltzed to the living room. When Judy saw me, she smiled graciously. She was wearing the cutest little black dress and pumps with her blonde hair pulled back on the sides.
“Don’t you look hot,” I sang.
She laughed at me. “Is Irish here?” she asked.
“Not yet,” I said following her to the kitchen.
Stopping to look at my face, she asked “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, in fact...wait right here,” I said, running to my room. I brought back the bottle of Grand Marnier I’d bought for Irish and held it up, smiling from ear to ear. “We have to celebrate,” I squealed, dancing to the cupboard for two glasses.
Judy leaned back on the counter, taking off her shoes. “Someone’s happy,” she giggled. “What are we celebrating, J.C.?”
I continued smiling while I poured, handing her a glass and holding mine up in the air to toast. She just smiled staring at me. “I asked Irish to marry me, well kind of, and he said yes.”
Her eyes became huge and she threw her hand over her mouth. “For real, are you kidding?” She watched my face now.
“Yes, we’re leaving for Las Vegas first thing in the morning,” I smiled. Without a word she tipped her glass to mine and then took a big sip. I took a drink too and we both stood in the kitchen staring at each other. I knew what she had to say and was going to say.
She was Momma Judy, so I waited for her comment. “You’re sure about this, J.C.?” and I threw my arms around her.
We hugged. “I’m one hundred and ten percent sure,” I said.
She gave me a smile. “Okay, I’m really happy for you.” And I knew she was. I sat on her bed while she changed clothes and told me all about Rodney. We were heading back to the kitchen to refill our glasses when we heard a light knock on the door.
“That must be Irish,” I said skipping to the door. When I opened it, it wasn’t Irish but John. My eyes got huge as I quickly looked past him for Irish.
“Jurnee, can I talk to you for a minute?” I stepped back, staring at him.
“Sure, come in,” I said, opening the door wider.
I’m sure he saw the disappointment on my face, so he quickly said, “Irish will be here in a few minutes. He had to get the original copy of his birth certificate from his parents’ house. I left before him.” I just nodded and walked over to the sofa.
Judy popped her head in from the kitchen and then ran over to John and hugged him. “It’s so good to see you,” John said.
Judy just gave him her silly-Judy smile.
“What’d you need to talk to me about, John?” I said, searching for my cigarettes.
“I have something I think you’d like to have for tomorrow,” and he spoke with a serious voice. I looked him in the face and sat down on the sofa. He followed me over and sat down too, reaching in his coat pocket and handing me a folded handkerchief. I looked at him and accepted it, setting it on my lap and opening it. When I got to the middle, I saw two rings.
I looked up at John. “These belonged to mom and dad,” and he nodded.
“If you’re really serious about this marriage, Jurnee, I know they’d want you to have them.” I looked at the rings, my eyes tearing. I set them down on the table and stood up holding my arms out to John. He stood and held me tighter than ever before. I did my silent cry into his shoulder. I didn’t hear a knock but Judy must have. When I finally composed myself and pushed away from John, I saw Irish standing by the front door, smiling at me.
John stepped away and walked over to Irish, hugging him too. When they finally separated, Irish pulled what looked like a blue address book from his coat pocket and handed it to my brother. Neither one said a word.
John walked to the front door, turning to me, “Be safe and I’ll see you when I do. I love you, Jurnee,” and he closed the door behind him.
Judy, Irish, and I stared at one another. I went to the table and picked up my parents’ rings. I smiled at Irish and he walked over and kissed me on my forehead. I reached for Irish’s hand and slipped my dad’s ring on his finger. We both looked at it. He took my mom’s ring and slipped it on my finger. It fit, and I began to cry. It wasn’t my moment cry. It was an overwhelmingly happy one. I reached out for Irish, then Judy, and we group-hugged. Tomorrow was going to be a good day, I thought.
Irish and I were at the court house at eight o’clock and on the road to Vegas by ten. We didn’t turn on the radio once during our six-hour drive. He answered all the questions I had about his family, the blue book he’d given John, his bad habits, and our plan for moving to San Francisco. It seemed he already knew way more about me than I did about him. We laughed so hard we shed tears about some things and grew sad about sensitive subjects as well. When we realized we were only two exits from the Vegas Strip, we grew quiet. Maybe it was the excitement, mixed with a little nervousness, but we stared straight ahead at the tall buildings. Irish finally pulled off an exit, promising to take us to the Strip. We had both agreed that we only wanted to make our marriage legal right now. We could always have a real ceremony later if we wanted it. Passing several chapels with signs offering every type of wedding imaginable, Irish and I continued down the Strip, smiling expectantly.
“Tell me when to stop,” he said.
I smacked his shoulder and laughed. “No, this was your idea, Buster, you pick. I just decided to come today to get out of the house,” and we laughed. He pulled into the parking lot of a little white chapel called Wedding Bells and we stared at it.
The car parked, he turned and looked at me, smiling sweetly. “This is your last chance to run like hell, Jurnee.”
I touched his nose with my finger. “I did mention that I snore, right?”
He laughed. “I’ve heard you, believe me, and I’m still here.” He came around, opening my door and we stood looking at the chapel door. “We aren’t going to get hitched standing here in the parking lot, now are we?” and we headed for the front door.
When we walked inside several other couples were already there. Some wore wedding dresses and tuxedos. One couple even wore silly costumes. A woman approached and held her hand out to me. I looked at her and took a step behind Irish, allowing him to handle this matter. I was definitely feeling very much out of my comfort zone, and Irish explained to the consultant that we were only interested in a quick ceremony as we needed to return to San Diego this evening. She led us to a room off the main foyer. It was empty and looked like a miniature version of a traditional church. The woman left us, promising to return shortly. We smiled at each other when she left the room, giving each other big animated silly eyes.
“This is probably when I should reveal to you that I’m really a man, huh?”
He began tickling me. I was laughing so hard the room became silent between my gasps for air. “You shouldn’t have told me you were ticklish, now should you?”
The consultant returned and we tried to look serious. “If you two want to fill out this form, we should be able to get you married and on your way back home,” she said smiling at us.
When she left, we sat down like adults and began answering the questions on the single-paged form. I held the clipboard and asked Irish questions I was unsure about. When the woman returned, she was accompanied by a man I guessed was going to perform the ceremony. He took the clipboard and our certificate, and we were legally married ten minutes later.
After we kissed, Irish whispered in my ear, “We’ll do this right later,” and I hugged him.
When we got back to the car, neither of us spoke; we wore ridiculous I-can’t-believe-we-did-it smiles.
When we were on the freeway heading home, Irish turned to me, reaching for my hand. “You belong to me, Jurnee Ciara,” and he wore a devilish grin.
I squeezed his hand and smiled back. “Um no, we belong to each other.”
He shook his
head no. His smile grew huge and looking into my eyes he said, “Today I get to say that you belong to me, all day, at least until midnight. It’s a guy thing, Jurnee.”
I giggled at him. “Okay, if that makes you happy” and I squeezed his hand again.
He turned and looked at the road now. “It does, very much,” he said, smiling.
We stopped once on the way home to buy fuel and eat a meal. I counted eight times that Irish found ways to work my wife into his conversations.
I smiled and laughed. He’d really turned out to be my prize, I thought, and maybe the best birthday present I’d ever received.
We exited the road for Irish’s property, even though we thought Paris was probably there. Irish had to fly to San Francisco the next day to sign papers and take care of business for his dad. When we pulled off the main road and onto the private drive, a huge paper sign was hanging on the closed gate. Irish stopped the car and we both stared. Welcome Home Irish and Jurnee was printed in huge purple letters. Pictures of wedding bells hung on either end of the sign.
We looked at each other and laughed. “I’m guessing everyone knows,” Irish said.
Much to our surprise Paris wasn’t there when we drove to the house. We dropped our bags on the sofa and headed for the kitchen. On the counter was a coffeemaker I was sure had not been there earlier. I looked at Irish.
“My wife likes her coffee in the morning,” he said smiling.
I shook my head and grinned at him. We’re now at number ten with the wife references, I thought. I opened the refrigerator and saw food. And wine! I turned to Irish, holding the door open, “How...when...who put food in here?”
He grinned at me, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I figured that we’d be busy with our honeymoon celebration but we’d still have to eat.”
I shut the door and stared at him. Any past moments I’d once thought were my happiest didn’t hold a candle to the way I felt right now. I didn’t feel lost or scared or unsure. I felt safe and loved, but mostly certain that trusting him was probably the best decision I ever made.
I Made You My First Page 14