by Amanda Tru
“Should I call an ambulance?”
“Probably.” She turned and framed Travis’ face in her hands, kissing him long and hard. “Thank you.”
He looked around and laughed. “Probably didn’t need my help with these guys.”
“I absolutely did. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Travis stood back as Traci spoke to sheriff Hughes and Tiny. Despite a tank top, shorts, and flip flops, she exuded confidence and professionalism in recounting precisely what happened, without emotion, and without apology.
He couldn’t express how proud he felt of her. For years she had trained with him. Most people took Taekwondo lessons to get into physical shape, to stretch themselves beyond boundaries, to experience a level of discipline they wouldn’t otherwise experience. He knew Traci came to class to learn, then to know how to take what she learned and apply it to real-world situations, to develop the skill to restrain and overcome bigger and stronger opponents. Despite never having a reason to use her martial arts skills up to that moment in her career, she hadn’t even hesitated. She’d used all of her training perfectly.
He was still personally fighting off the adrenaline. He hadn’t had actual physical combat with an opponent intent on doing him harm in years. As a rule, he would rather walk away than engage, but obviously this time he’d had no choice. He only had to avoid delivering killing blows.
He didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t heard them through his open window. She probably could have fought off all three of them, but maybe not. He whispered a prayer of thanksgiving again as he thought about what could have happened, what didn’t happen.
When she turned to face him, he felt his heart skip a beat, and then his pulse rate started skittering. In about twenty-four hours, she would be his wife, one with him, his partner in life, the one he could find by his side in good times and in bad. His wife.
He smiled at her and walked toward her. “All set?”
“Yeah. They’ve got it from here.” She held her hand out, and he took it in his. “Still want to get lunch?”
Lifting her chin with his finger, he moved her head right and left and examined her face. “You, my love, are going to have a black eye. And likely a swollen lip and cheek.”
Her tongue darted out of her mouth and touched the cut on her lip, and she gingerly prodded around her eye with the fingers of her free hand. “I can feel it.”
He paused, waiting for more, but nothing came. With a laugh, he said, “That’s it? No worry for tomorrow? No concern for pictures?”
Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Tomorrow?” But as she said the word, her eyes widened, and her voice trailed off. “Oh man. My mother is simply going to kill me.”
Stealing a quick kiss, careful of where his lips hit hers and avoiding the injured area, he said, “I love you.” Keeping her hand in his, he lifted his free hand to wave at the sheriff. “Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to see you tomorrow.”
Sheriff Hughes nodded. “I wouldn’t miss this wedding for the world.”
Traci slipped her bag over her shoulder, and they walked down the street, hand-in-hand. She smiled up at him. “Have I thanked you today for jumping in and helping me?”
“Well, yes, you have.” Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips over her knuckles. “I’ll have to think of a way you can repay me.”
Her laughed floated around them. “I am so thankful you were there. I don’t know what would have happened.”
“I think you might have more than a black eye.” He squeezed her hand. “Though I believe you would have eventually won. Or held them off until the cavalry, otherwise known as Tiny, arrived.”
Her dialing 9-1-1 gave the emergency operator a chance to understand the need for help and to ping her call. Because of the phone number, the call went out as an officer needs assistance, which brought the county and the city to the scene. Certainly, an exciting event for little Charula in Cooper County, Kentucky.
“Maybe. Three on one, though. I’m thankful it was in daylight and that you were around.”
They stopped at the diner door. Betsy called out as they entered, “Well, if it ain’t Big Trouble in Little Charula. And me without my popcorn.”
Travis laughed and waved. “This girl here is the real star. I just provided backup.”
They walked to their usual booth in the relatively empty diner. The lunch crowd had come and gone, and the dinner crowd hadn’t started arriving yet. The daytime waitress Laurel approached the booth carrying menus. He noticed her hair matched the bright pink lighting along the ceiling.
“You’ve gone pink,” Traci observed. “I like that better than the green.”
Laurel fingered the shaggy bangs. “Yeah? I don’t know. I got used to the green.”
Traci looked at Travis. “I know what I want.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Laurel didn’t hand the menus over. Instead, she looked expectantly at Traci who said, “Burger. Loaded. Extra mayo. Chips.”
Laurel nodded then looked at Travis. “Chili topped baked potato with cheese and sour cream. Coleslaw on the side. And we’ll both just drink water.”
Traci sat back against the bench. “You going to tell me where we’re going tomorrow yet?”
He grinned. “Tomorrow night, we’re spending the night at a hotel near the Louisville airport. I didn’t want to have to watch the clock during our actual wedding.”
“You know what I mean. I mean, where to after the airport? Why won’t you even give me a hint?”
“What would the fun be in that?”
In searching for adventurous honeymoon ideas, he’d found a zip-lining trip through the jungles of Costa Rica. He even found a resort in the middle of the rain forest. Michele had helped him by purchasing Traci an entire wardrobe suitable for their honeymoon and packing for her. Traci had surrendered her passport with a frown and a not-so-subtle threat that he better not have planned a cruise. As if he would try to contain her on a floating line-dance party.
He planned to reveal his agenda once they boarded the plane to Miami. And, because they had Miami as their first destination, he knew she would likely assume cruise all the way until their boarded their flight to San Jose.
She snarled. “How am I supposed to know what to pack?”
With a wink, he said, “You’re already packed.”
“You went into my house?”
“Of course not. I had a partner in crime who took care of all of the little details.”
She barely spoke above a whisper. “My mother?” Her cheeks flushed, and she strangled out the words. “You let Michelle Winston pack for me? If there’s anything zebra-striped in there…”
He thanked Laurel for the water she delivered. “You need to trust me, Traci. Trust that I know you.”
With a raised eyebrow, she finally nodded. “Fine. Whatever.” The clipped tone shored up the lack of “fine” in her heart.
Travis lifted his cup in her direction. “You’ll be very happy. I promise. If not, then I will concede that it was a mistake—but only then. Right now, I know in my heart you’re going to love our honeymoon.”
“And it’s not a cruise?”
Laughter barked out of his chest. “I love you and cannot wait to marry you tomorrow.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Whatever.” The glare didn’t last long as she giggled and grinned, obviously no longer able to *maintain the facade.
The bruise under her eye had started to darken. “You want some ice for that eye?”
She relaxed and shook her head. “I kept the one the paramedics gave me on it for a while. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do at this point.”
“Except get with my cousin Ava and get makeup tips.”
“Oh, she’s doing my makeup tomorrow, so we’re good.” She waved a hand over her face. “I wouldn’t know where to start. She did my makeup for our prom and once for some senior picture day thing I had
to do. She knows I’m going in with total ignorance.”
Surprised, he said, “I didn’t know that. Interesting how our paths crossed before they crossed.”
Traci shrugged. “Small town.”
Before he could reply, Laurel appeared with their plates in each hand. “I’m starving,” Traci exclaimed, unwrapping her silverware from the napkin.
“Enjoy,” Laurel replied, and Travis breathed in the spicy aroma of the chili as he and Traci bowed their heads to pray over their meal.
Michelle grabbed Traci by the chin and moved her head to the left and the right. “I swear, Traci, I honestly feel like you did this on purpose.”
She turned and looked in the mirror, approving Ava’s job on covering up her swollen black eye. There wasn’t a whole lot they could do about the split swollen lip.
Traci shifted to break her mother’s hold. “You think I got jumped in an alley by a group of drug dealers so I could ruin the big day?”
“I do. Just so you could make sure that some part of you was in this ridiculous charade.” She defensively crossed her arms over her chest as Traci turned and stared at her wide-eyed.
“Ridiculous charade?”
“That’s what you called it!”
“When?”
Michelle reached down and snagged a tissue out of the packet on the table next to her. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, preventing any accumulating tears from falling and ruining the perfectly applied makeup. “When you were in eighth grade. You came home and saw me putting something in the butterfly book, and you started a fight with me about it.”
Eighth grade? Seriously? All words fled her brain. She blinked, trying to come up with something that would dispel her mother’s hysteria. “You’ve waited a full decade to cry about that on my wedding day?”
She watched as the hand holding the tissue fisted and hoped she’d managed to stop whatever emotional plummet they had started to take. “Of course not,” Michelle clipped out.
“Good.” Holding the silk robe closed at the neck, she crossed over to her mom and pulled her into her arms. “I love you. Having this wedding was my decision, a gift to you for all the sacrifices you’ve made in your life for me. I hope today is the happiest day for you.”
The door to the pastor’s study opened, and Dorothy Branch came in carrying a bulging garment bag the size of a medium kiddie pool with the logo of Branch’s Bridal on the front of it. “Here we are!” She shut the door and used one of the coat hooks on the back of it to hang the dress. “I so wish we’d had time to try it on one more time, but I brought a sewing machine in case there’s some last second disaster.”
Traci felt a little bit of nervous excitement at the sight of the zipper coming down on the bag. She couldn’t identify the feeling. “I don’t think there’s going to be a disaster.”
Several minutes later, Traci stood on a small step stool while Dorothy dashed all around her, fluffing here, tugging there. She faced the mirror across the room. Despite her personal objections to the idea of wearing such an expensive amount of material, Traci knew the dress fit her exactly as it should. She ran her hand down the center of the bodice, fingered the lace, brushed against the collar. She thought she’d feel ridiculous. Every time she’d put it on, she had felt ridiculous. But, today, with her makeup on, with her hair up, with the heeled shoes, somehow, she felt beautiful, like a fairy tale protagonist in a storybook.
“We’re good,” Dorothy said, then held out her hand. Traci carefully stepped down, wobbling a bit in the heels. “You are amazing. Let me show you where the back hook is, Michelle.”
Behind her, Dorothy and her mom practiced hooking the train to a place under the bow in the back so that it brushed the ground instead of trailing three feet behind her. She knew they’d do that on the way to the reception.
“Fair warning. I’m shedding these shoes the second I leave the church,” Traci warned. “I just don’t want either of you surprised when you see me at the reception, and the dress is dragging on the ground.”
“I will have no objection,” Michelle smiled. She stood back and clapped her hands. “Oh, so beautiful. More than I imagined.”
A tap-tap on the door brought in her mom’s cousin, Courtney. She held the hand of her daughter, Victory, who wore a dress with a purple bodice and a tulle skirt that shimmered in purple and silver and blue and made her think of mother of pearl. Courtney had braided her brown hair and twisted around her head, with little blue and purple paper butterflies affixed all around.
“You are going to steal the show,” Michelle grinned, bending so that she was at eye level with Victory. “Dorothy made you the most beautiful dress ever,” she said.
Victory grinned and spun in a circle, letting the skirt swing out. Then she reached over and touched Traci’s silk sleeve. “Pretty,” she said.
Traci straightened and grabbed the white basket from the table, fluffing out the purple bow. “Are you ready for your most important job?”
“Yes!” Victory clapped her hands and reached for the basket. “My brother has the rings, but I have the best job ever.”
“Yes, you do.” The basket contained purple and white silk rose petals. “Make sure you remember to spread out the petals. That way, everyone knows where I’ll be walking.”
A tap on the door brought Travis’ sister, Jessica into the room. She wore a loose-fitting cream lace dress and a pair of brown ankle boots. Her curly red hair was pinned up on the top of her head, and she let curly strands fall all around her face. When she saw Traci, she stopped short. “Oh, Traci, you look amazing.”
Self-conscious, Traci ran her hand along her waist. “I do?”
“Seriously. Travis is going to fall over when he sees you.” She pulled a phone out of her pocket and snapped a picture before Traci could object. “No worries. I won’t show him. Anyway, I need the boutonnieres for the guys. I should have put them into a separate box.”
Traci opened the box that contained their bouquets and saw the clear plastic packages for the boutonnieres. They had made one from a white rose with a lilac spray, and two from purple roses with white dusty miller sprays. She knew the name of the white flowers because Travis’ sisters had carefully schooled her during the decision-making process. “These?”
“Yep.”
She grabbed them and walked back to the door, turning to look at Traci again. “I’m so excited for you two. I can’t believe this day is finally here.”
Traci picked up her bouquet, surprised at the weight of the purple roses accented with lilac and white dusty miller sprays. Glittery silver butterflies danced through the blooms. She picked up the white and purple roses bouquet and handed it to Michelle. “Ready, mama?”
“Just about.” Her mom walked up to her and accepted the bouquet, then put a hand on her arm, looking into her eyes. “I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry we’ve spent such a portion of your life at odds over trivial things. What you’ve done for me here, I cannot even express how much it means to me.”
“It means a lot to me, too.” She meant the words with all of her heart and hoped that she conveyed that.
“I know.” She squeezed Traci’s arm and said, “Let’s pray before we go out there.”
Traci bowed her head, and her mother’s words surrounded her. “Father, thank you for my daughter. Thank you for taking something I did wrong and turning it into a beautiful gift to this world. Touch this marriage, God, fill it with love and laughter, and keep Traci and Travis constantly putting you ahead of them, so that as they grow closer to you, they grow closer together.”
When they raised their heads, Traci looked down at Victory and said, “Let’s do this.”
“Oh, yeah,” Victory declared and rushed to the door.
Unconventionally, Traci and Travis both wanted their mothers to stand up for them when they got married. In the absence of a father to give her away or a father to serve as his best man, they felt it honored the women who had raised them and who supported and loved them
unconditionally.
Michelle in her classy purple gown and silver shoes stepped onto the aisle first, followed by Victory and her little brother. Once the three of them reached the front of the church, Traci walked through the doors, along a floor carpeted with silk flower petals. She walked alone, unaccompanied, head high, concentrating only on not stumbling in the stupid high heeled shoes.
About halfway down the aisle, she realized she wouldn’t fall and relaxed slightly, let her gaze focus on Travis. The look of love, affection, and desire on his face took her breath away, and one step faltered slightly before she regained her balance. He wore a gray tuxedo with an ivory vest and ivory necktie. Pinned to his lapel was the white rose with the spray of lilacs.
When she reached the bottom of the stage, he rushed down the steps and took her hand. As soon as he was next to her, she relaxed entirely. “Thought you could use a hand climbing these stairs,” he murmured.
“In these shoes, you probably ought to carry me.”
He chuckled, and soon they stood in front of Gary Dixon. He opened the wedding with a prayer, gave a brief sermon on love, God, and the biblical plan for marriage, then turned to them for their vows. Travis spoke first.
“Traci, I never imagined God could create a perfect companion for me. I love your zest for life, your desire to push yourself in physical fitness, and your service to our community. I vow to love you, cherish you, protect you, provide for you, and lead you in the way God has instructed me is pleasing to Him.”
She hadn’t heard his vows before now. As he spoke, the words went through her heart and resonated with truth and love. She felt an unexpected sting of tears in her eyes as she looked up at him and smiled.
“Travis, I fell in love with you the day you kicked me in the chest and didn’t apologize. Knowing that a man could respect who I was as a human being first meant a lot to me. Knowing we shared a love for God and could serve God together sealed the deal for me. I vow to love you, respect you, and submit myself to you in a way that brings honor to God and our name.”