by KD Robichaux
I unlatch myself and bend down close to my beautiful girl, holding out my hand for her to see the ring. “Look, baby. I’m crying because I’m so happy. Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”
“Really? Just like Cinderella?” she says, her eyes wide.
I chuckle and kiss her chubby cheek. “Yep, just like Cinderella. And just like Belle and the Beast too. You know that’s Mommy’s favorite,” I try to get her on a different subject, so she won’t be worried about my tears anymore.
“Yep! I think Avary’s favorite is Jasmine and Aladdin, because she never cries when I watch that movie,” she tells me seriously then turns and runs over to my dad, who’s holding her sister once again, and she runs her hand gently over Avary’s soft hair. “Is Jasmine your favorite princess, baby sister?” Josalyn asks her, and Avary lets out an excited squeal, kicking her legs and making Josalyn laugh as she turns to me with a proud look on her face. “See?”
“I think you’re right,” I reply, and seeing her attention is now distracted by PopPop, I turn back to Jason.
Looking down at me with that smirk still in place, he asks, “How about we gather up our babies and head on home? I think it’s about time to seal the deal with some engagement sex.”
“Engagement sex? Is that the same as make-up sex? Because you totally owe me some of that too,” I tease.
“What do I owe you make-up sex for?” he questions, linking his arms around my waist and pulling me toward him with his hands on my ass.
“You’ve been a douchecanoe all day today!” I hiss. “You totally owe me.”
“Wow, engaged not even five minutes and you’re already calling me names and making commands.” He shakes his head, and then bursts out laughing when I punch him in the gut.
His face turns soft as he looks back down at me, and I hold him tighter as he confesses, “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick today, babe. I was so scared something or someone would fuck everything up. I wanted everything to be perfect. And then at the very last second, I realized I was about to drive off and leave the ring.”
I smile, understanding that’s what he must’ve had to run back into his parents’ house for before we left. “Well, it all turned out perfect. I had no idea. It was the best surprise ever. I seriously thought maybe you’d propose on New Year's, because you know that’s my favorite holi—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “And that’s exactly why I didn’t wait until then, because you would’ve been expecting it.” He grins.
“Sneaky bastard.” I lean up and kiss his lips, and then Buffy orders us to pose for some pictures, which she and Jason’s mom snap several of.
I hold back my laughter when my dad pulls Jason into a big hug, not a man-hug he’s used to getting from other men, and my face softens when Jason hugs him back just as hard. “I promise I’ll take care of her,” I hear him say, and it takes everything in me not to tear up again in front of my kids.
Soon, we gather up the girls’ gifts, Avary’s diaper bag, and my purse after giving rounds of hugs and kisses, wishing each other a Merry Christmas. When we load up the car and back out of my brother’s driveway, I take a second to soak in the Christmas lights decorating his house, knowing this moment in time will be saved in my memory for the rest of my life.
Lying in bed, still catching our breath from the engagement/make-up sex we just had, I look at the ring on my finger, where they’re twined with Jason’s. Keeping my voice as serious as I can, I lay it on him, because that’s just how we are, and I love it. “So…wait a minute. Are you telling me you didn’t get my Victoria’s Secret Limited Edition scent, fucker?”
When he doesn’t make a sound, not even a little laughter, I look up at him with my head on his chest, seeing he has his lips pulled between his teeth, and he’s looking everywhere but at me. Then his eyes come to mine, and he mumbles, “Whoops,” to which I reply with a poke to his ribs.
“I swear to God, if one of my presents in the morning isn’t a bag full of body goodies, after I’ve been reminding you for over a month, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He chuckles, squeezes me to his side, and places a kiss on top of my head. The last thing I hear before drifting off to sleep is him whispering, “My sexy fiancée. I love it when you get all feisty.”
Fiancée is my last conscious thought, and then I’m fast asleep.
Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog
April 8, 2010
Let the record state that I wanted to elope. I would’ve been perfectly happy taking a nice little getaway to Vegas, doing a quickie wedding at a little chapel like Marky and Kim did, and then spending a few days going to shows and relaxing by a pool.
But alas, Jason roped me into planning a full-on big-ass wedding, because unlike me, he had “never been married before, and it’s going to be the only wedding I ever have, because I don’t believe in divorce, so I want to do the whole, big shebang.” And with those beautiful brown puppy-dog eyes looking down into mine, that’s how the cookie crumbled. Since this wedding was mostly for him, though, I made him help me with every aspect, right down to the dress, because I felt I should wear the dress he would want to see me in. Plus, he proclaimed to be the wedding-dress-picking-master, having picked “the one” for a couple of his friends before.
I found a couple I liked on DavidsBridal.com, planning to go try them on the next day, and showed them to him on the site. He came across one he absolutely drooled over, but when I saw what the model looked like who was wearing the dress, I told him, “Sorry, baby, that model has curves for days. The dress won’t look that good on me, because I don’t have those tits or that ass.” He shrugged and said he’d go with me to see the dresses in case there were any in the store they didn’t have on the website.
I tried on the dresses I’d written the style numbers down for, but none of them flipped my skirt. We were about to leave, when Jason called from between two rows of fluffy puffs of white, “Babe! I found that dress I liked! And they have it in your size!”
I sighed, but turned around and walked to where he was, grabbing it out of his hand after he took it down from the tall rack. “I’ve already forewarned you it’s going to look ridiculous on my flat chest. No making fun of me when you see how terrible it looks after seeing it look so good on that runway model,” I griped, but he just swatted my ass as I turned to walk back into my dressing room.
I slipped it on over my head, buttoned the halter around my neck, and zipped it up to where it only reached a third of the way up my back, fitting my body like a second skin. When I looked into the mirror, I shook my head at my reflection. In the words of Captain Jack Sparrow, there’ll be no living with him after this.
The dress was perfect.
The one.
And he had picked it out off a website.
Fuck.
When I exited the dressing room, he didn’t even bother hiding his smirk, knowing he had been spot-on, and when I stood up on the pedestal under the spotlight in front of the giant mirror showing my every angle, I watched as the smirk changed into a different look altogether. One that made me feel like a goddess.
Yep, this was ‘the dress.’
Having only two classes during this last semester of my college career, I had enough time during the day to plan the entire wedding, which we set for April 17th. Mom’s church was booked for the ceremony, the Knights of Columbus hall was reserved for our reception, and we will be having Angelo’s Italian Kitchen catering it. I found a wonderful woman, Tanya, on Craigslist offering her photography skills for free if we’d sign a release for her to use the pictures in her portfolio, which I thought was an incredible deal. My bridal portraits she took turned out beautiful, so I know she’ll be able to capture our wedding perfectly.
Calla lilies are the running theme of my all black-and-cream wedding. Jason’s mom and I, along with Aunt Pat and several of their church friends, have spent countless hours putting together the decorations for the pews and centerpieces. I found a fantastic sale on fake calla lilies at Hobby Lo
bby for all the décor, but we’ll have real ones for me and my bridesmaids’ bouquets and the men’s boutonnieres.
One of Mom’s friends, Miss Patsy, recommended a DJ she’d used in the past, who also offered things like a disco ball and laser lights, and after interviewing him and seeing some of his past events in pictures, we hired him right away. Miss Patsy was known in the church for being an amazing cook, and she offered to cook all the food for our Rehearsal Dinner. That, I’m very much looking forward to. We’re having it right in the Robichauxs’ living room. Mom swears up and down the living room is big enough to fit several round tables and chairs into the space, so I have full faith there will be enough room for the whole wedding party.
We had so much fun going to get the guys fitted for their tuxes. I instantly fell in love with Jason’s childhood friend, Big John, who lived up to his name full-heartedly. When thinking of that guy, five b-words come to mind: big, beautiful, black, bald, and bearded. We became instant friends when we discovered each other’s mutual love for all things nerdy. I may not be a big gamer like him, but he was highly impressed with my knowledge and fondness for superheroes, vampires, and all things supernatural. Jason’s work-buddy Bubba would be our other groomsman, to match my number of bridesmaids. Logan would be flying in from California to be our best man, but he didn’t need a tux since he’d be wearing his fancy Marine uniform.
First, we went to eat lunch at Black Eyed Pea, Big John and my blossoming friendship growing exponentially when he discovered my love of soul food, being from North Carolina. There were a lot of black-jokes being tossed around between the boys, which made me terribly uncomfortable. I never joke about things like race because I’d never want to offend or hurt anyone’s feelings; it’s just who I am. But when Big John started throwing in his own, the tension left me. I didn’t join into the banter, but I certainly laughed at what they were saying, trying to top each other with their inappropriateness.
Then we went to Men’s Wearhouse. That was an adventure. Finding a tux to fit Big John’s 6’3” 450-pound frame was quite the feat. Jason was determined to have the fancy coats with tails, and it was hilarious watching the crazy men turn into little boys playing dress-up.
Buffy drove herself, Renee, and Brooke down to my side of town to go to David’s Bridal to find their Bridesmaid dresses, but seeing how the least expensive dress was $125, and knowing I was on a strict budget and that I didn’t want to put any of them in jeopardy by making them buy a dress they’d only wear once, I decided to go out on my own to find something more fitting. They just needed to be nice ‘little black dresses’, so I didn’t think it would be too hard. I ended up hitting the jackpot, finding two of the same super cute black tiered dresses in Renee and Brooke’s sizes for $15.00 each at Ross, and then after sending Buffy a picture of them, she found one just as nice for herself. It’s different than the ones I picked, but I actually like that they won’t match, since she is my matron of honor.
My mom and dad will be here in a few days, and then we’ll have the wedding rehearsal and dinner the night before the ceremony. It’s been very stress-free. I don’t know why so many women turn into bridezillas while planning this stuff. It’s been nothing but fun for me. Of course, having so much help from Jason’s mom and all her church friends has made it that way. I can’t help but snigger to myself each time one of them says something like, “Oh, I’m just so happy Jason found a good girl to make him settle down,” or “We never thought he’d be the family-man type,” or “Who knew he’d be the first of all his friends to get married and have babies. We thought he’d be the last, if it ever happened at all.” It made me feel like one of my romance novel heroines, the good girl who tamed the bad boy.
Well, I better get off here. We're going to Spec’s to place our order for the bottles of wine and the keg for the reception.
A keg at a wedding reception…
Only in Texas.
April 17, 2010
Today is the day I’ve fantasized about since the early months of 2005, when I fell for my soul mate and let my mind wander to that dangerous land of What If. During those days, I had no idea of the crazy journey I would go on in order to finally arrive here. On that rugged and treacherous path, I fell into sinkholes, the lowest of low-points in my life, but also came across mile-markers with picturesque views I would never want to un-see. And without those heartbreaking miles, I don’t think I would appreciate reaching my destination as much as I do at this moment.
I woke up this morning beside my fiancé, and kissed him, knowing the next time we were in that bed together, it would be as husband and wife. Up until then, we had broken almost every tradition. He had picked my dress; we stayed together the night before the wedding… and who knows how many more. But that is when the rule breaking would end. When I left the house with my mom and my little girls to meet my hairdresser, bridesmaids, and Tanya, the photographer, at the church in the bridal parlor, I wouldn’t see Jason again until I was walking down the aisle. We met this morning two hours before everyone else was supposed to get here, since Angie was giving us all intricate up-dos.
Another amazing find, I met her at my school. She’s in the cosmetology program at San Jac. I don’t have any hesitation going to the women training to be stylists, because their every snip of the scissors has to be approved by their instructor. Plus, a haircut, highlights, wash, and blow-dry is only $40.00, compared to the outrageous prices some of these fancy places charge. I had been assigned Angie for my trim and highlights a couple of months ago, and she did such a great job that I asked her if she was any good at doing up-dos. She showed me some of her work, photos taken for class assignments on mannequin heads and a few people, and they were all gorgeous, so I came back to her to do my style for my bridal portraits.
When I asked her to do it once more for my actual wedding, plus Buffy, Renee, Brooke, and my mom’s hair, she jumped at the opportunity, needing this kind of event as a credit for her cosmetology license. As instructed by Angie, we all showed up with ‘dirty hair’, which she said was much easier to style than a freshly washed mane.
Wearing jean shorts with my lacy white and baby blue garter around my thigh, and a button-up pink plaid shirt so I wouldn’t have to pull one over my head and risk messing up my do, I applied my makeup in the brightly lit dressing room of the parlor while Angie pinned, curled, and sprayed every strand into place. When she was finished, I handed her a bundle of miniature porcelain calla lilies that she wove through one side of the style. I’m just not a veil kind of girl.
The rest of the ladies each took their turn in the hot seat, Angie styling their hair while I did their makeup, recalling the rules I’d learned during my pageant days, making sure our faces wouldn’t look washed out under the bright lights. When all of us were done being made up and primped, Angie gave us hugs and left, because she had another bride’s hair to do that afternoon.
“Did you bring the stuff?” Buffy asks conspiratorially, raising her eyebrow and glancing down at my hands.
“Yeah. We need to get it on before Jason’s mom comes in. If she catches us before it’s all done, she’ll throw a hissy until we wipe it all off,” I say quickly, rummaging through my makeup Caboodle until I find what we need. We hurry out of the dressing room and into the main room of the parlor, and I run over to the door to lock it. “Whatever you do, do not open this door. Especially if it’s Jason’s mom. Everyone allowed in here right now is already here, so please don’t unlock this door for any reason until we’re done getting dressed and ready.” The girls around me, including Tanya and her assistant, all nod.
“First order of business… this.” I hold out the gleaming bottle of black nail polish for everyone to see, and the first thing I notice is the mischievous look in my niece’s eyes.
“You know she’s going to shit herself, don’t you?” she asks, receiving a stern, “Brooke!” from my mom.
“What? It’s true.” She shrugs.
“You’re in a church, Tadpole. Watc
h your language,” Mom tells her, reaching over to swat her playfully on her butt.
“That’s why we have to hurry up and get it on and dry, then get completely dressed, bouquets and all. That way she can’t make us take it off. We wouldn’t want to risk getting nail polish remover on our dresses, now, would we?” I smirk.
I love my soon-to-be mother-in-law. God knows I do. But that little woman can be one controlling, opinionated bulldog when she wants to be. If she knew I want all my bridesmaids and I to have matching black nails, which I think looks super cute against the cream-colored calla lilies, she’d throw a hissy fit. Shit, she even gave me hell when she saw it on my toenails last night, knowing I’m wearing open-toe heels today. I was able to cool her jets a little by telling her no one would see them since my wedding dress is floor-length, leaving out the part it would soon be on my fingers as well.
We all sprawl out in the middle of the floor, my babies thinking it’s hilarious that all the grownups are down on the ground with them, as they giggle and crawl all over us while we try to carefully apply the polish to our nails. Avary reaches for my garter and tugs, making little grunting noises as she tries to get it off me, so I slide it down my legs and put it around her like a headband.
As each chick finishes getting painted and dry, they move into the dressing room to change into their dress and heels. I wait as long as possible after mine are done, making sure they are completely dry before attempting to get into my ivory dress, which Buffy helps me step into, trying our best not to wrinkle the freshly steamed satin. When the halter is clasped and the back is zipped, I sit down so she can buckle my strappy cream shoes, the low heels easy for even me to walk in.
Suddenly, the door handle to the parlor jiggles, and we all hold our breath as if whoever is out there will somehow be able to break the lock. When there’s a light knock, Buffy goes over to it to move the dark piece of fabric covering the small, narrow window and peaks out. It must be someone important, because she closes the curtain back and opens the door.