by D. Love
The day passes in a blur of activity, new faces and laughter. I’m not feeling up to much of anything. The nausea won’t completely leave, and I keep thinking about the blood.
It can’t be a good sign.
So I sit back most of the day, content to watch Mom interact with her friends. She has a blast meeting all the wonderful authors and listening to all the panels. She does a few laps around the center to collect as much swag with half-naked men as possible. I guard her precious treasures from my seat in the corner while she circulates to find more.
I’m exhausted by the time we made it back to the room in the afternoon.
"Mom, would you mind if I lay down for a while?"
The dreamy look she’s worn most of the day flips to one of concern.
"Are you okay, honey?"
"I’m fine. Just want to rest a little."
"I’ll tell the girls that –"
"No, Mom," I say firmly. "You’re going with your friends."
She hesitates.
"I promise to text if I need anything."
She relents, swearing she’ll only be gone for an hour. I don’t know how long she’s gone. I lie down and fall asleep fast. I awaken a few times to see it’s dark outside. Mom keeps checking on me, feeling my head several times and asking me if I need water. She also wakes me up once to give me my pills. I’m disoriented each time I wake up, not entirely certain if I’m dreaming or awake. Each time, I fall right back to sleep.
When I’m finally able to wake up for real, it’s seven in the morning. I’m filled with energy and very hungry. Mom always says those are two very great signs. I’m hoping I was just tired from travel and that my condition isn’t worsening.
I hop in the shower. Hot water can be soothing, when it runs down your body and helps all the muscles relax. I get out of the shower refreshed and ready to hit the big day. Today is Saturday. We’ll be attending an awards ceremony tonight, which is the highlight of the conference. We’ll be glammed out to the max tonight, looking like models, as Mom says.
I exit the bathroom and see relief wash over Mom’s face.
"Rye, are you alright? What happen yesterday?" she asks.
"I’m fine, Mom. I just got a little tired from all the travel, but now I am all rested up and feeling much better. Please stop worrying so much. You’re here to enjoy yourself, remember?" I reply.
"I will always worry, Rye. Please, never again ask me not to!"
"Okay, Mom," I say. I hug her quickly.
She studies me for a long moment. I really do feel good, and it must show, because she relaxes. The happy smile returns.
"We have to meet them for breakfast!" she says.
I pretend to groan. She laughs.
Thankfully, no one says anything at breakfast about my bad day yesterday. Everyone is acting as if everything is wonderful. The hot topic this morning: our dresses for tonight. We’re still discussing dresses, shoes and hair when we all climb into the rental cars to go to the convention again. We’ll leave early this afternoon to prepare ourselves for the magical night at the awards.
We spend another great morning and afternoon at the convention. I feel healthy all morning, strong enough to go to lunch with the girls again and actually do some talking this time. I’m in such good shape, I even look forward to the awards ceremony, a type of event I’d probably normally avoid. I’m too self-conscious about my appearance, now that my body has started to grow weaker, to wear a dress or even to want to put on make-up.
Mom and I make it back to the hotel with a group of others and take quick showers, so we can talk to Em and Katy via Skype before we get ready to go. Em appears on the laptop screen and begins talking a mile a minute about Rily, telling us how Angie takes her naps with Rily in the afternoons.
"Rily! Come on, baby. Come over here and say hi to your grandma," Em shouts to the dog we can’t see from the camera angle.
"You’re a puppy’s grandma," I say to Mom, snickering.
"Not Nana. You, Mama," Em corrects me quickly. "You are Rily's grandma, and Nana is her great grandma."
Mom laughs at me. I shake my head.
"I love you, Em," I tell her. "But we’re gonna talk about this grandma thing when I get home."
"Say goodbye to your grandma, Riley!" she says cheerfully, ignoring me. She’s giggling as she pushes the end chat button.
Someone knocks on the door, and Mom answers it. It’s Jodie, with a friend.
"This is my friend from Australia. She’s a hairdresser!" Jodie says. As usual, she’s super-excited, though right now, I have no idea why.
Jodie directs her friend over towards the table to set her stuff up and get busy.
"You first, Dee!" she orders, clapping her hands together.
I find it odd that Jodie travels with her hairdresser, but it must be nice, right? I smile as Mom takes her place in the chair. The hairdresser works fast, and Mom’s hair is done in no time. It’s pulled up in a bunch of blonde curls on top of her hair that cascade down the back of her head. She’s absolutely radiant.
Excited, she heads into the bathroom to put her make-up on. Immediately, she starts yelling about how hot she looks.
We all laugh, and then I take my turn in the chair of wonders, hoping the hairdresser does half as nice as hers. It’s thinned out quite a bit, probably from the chemo treatments. I’m hoping she can still make me look pretty.
I sit anxiously, afraid to look at Mom and Jodie’s expressions. I’m always afraid of seeing pity or sympathy or something that reminds me that I can no longer really take care of myself. She finishes, and finally, I risk a look at my audience.
Mom and Jodie stand nearby, staring at me with their hands over there mouths. I have no idea what to think and hop up, rushing to the bathroom to see myself in the mirror.
My hair is pulled to the left side of my head with beautiful curls draping over one shoulder. On the right side, the hairdresser twisted the thinning hair into happy curls at the level of my jaw line. Red satin ribbon is intertwined with my curls. My make-up is beautiful, the earth tone palette transforming my face from pale and sickly into healthy, vibrant. My cheeks are pink, as if I’ve just finished a quick walk, and my eyes are huge and bright. She managed to bring out the blue and somehow make my eyelashes look long and luxurious. Even the warm, berry shade of lipstick compliments my features.
I am admiring myself when Mom brings my dress in the bathroom.
"You need help putting this on?" she asks.
"Thank you, but I can handle getting into my dress," I reply.
"I’ll get dressed in the bedroom. Holler if you want help."
I step into my dress then slide it up my body, so I don’t mess up my perfect hair and make-up. I reach around to zip it up and then stand there in front of the mirror.
My dress is a red, floor length gown with a halter-top that ties around my neck and a silky scarf draped down my back. There are sequins starting at the bottom right side of the dress that curve all the way to the top.
For once, the mirror is kind to me. I barely recognize myself. I look so different. I don’t see the woman dying of a tumor staring back at me. Instead, I see a beautiful young woman who makes certain to live each day to its fullest, and whose face reflects the beauty of the moment. I don’t even notice the port in my arm.
I am beautiful.
I step out of the bathroom to find the population of women in the suite had tripled during the short time I was in the bathroom. Several of them gasp then proceed to describe me as breathtaking, beautiful, elegant.
"Hang on!" Mom yells, hurrying to the bedroom. I’m expecting her to have her phone or camera in hand when she returns. She comes back with a small black box.
"What is it?" I ask curiously.
"Jett wants you to have something special for tonight," she replies.
I open the box. Inside, a pair of diamond earnings that sparkle with almost otherworldly light. I start to tear up.
"No, you will mess up your masc
ara!" one of the girls cries with such emotion, I laugh.
I put the dangling earnings on and glance at my Mom for her approval. She’s dressed in her gown, too, and looks stunning tonight. Her floor length, black dress fits perfectly and makes her blonde hair and bright eyes stand out.
"Mom, you look so beautiful," I tell her.
She touches my cheek, tenderness in her gaze. "Rye, today, you are the one who is shining and beautiful."
The room is silent, as if it’s just the two of us. I glance around at all the wonderful souls who have become Mom’s second family. Most have pools of tears in their eyes. Self-conscious, I try to find something to say to get the focus off us.
"Let’s go party," I manage at last.
A chorus of yahoos goes up from the others, and off we go.
We arrive at the hall where the ceremony is being held. I’m still marveling over how a dress and accessories can make someone feel good about herself. I had a good day.
No, today was a great day for me, and now, I’m a princess. I can’t remember the last time I thought of myself as anything other than a drain on those around me. This trip is turning into something special for me, as well as my mother.
The ballroom is filled with smiles and laughter but most of all love. The lighting is romantic and soft: candles and strand lights. All the tables have beautiful centerpieces with tea lights in them. There is what looks like a dance floor in the middle of the room, outlined by candles. The tables surround the dance floor while a lectern and raised dais are at the front of the room. The walls are draped by black, velvet curtains to cover all the windows. The room is magical, a fascinating combination of dark and light, and calming.
A stunning woman approaches me.
"I’m Regina," she says. " A photographer from Mae I Design."
"Rye," I reply.
"I’d love to take your picture. Is that okay?"
Taken aback, I murmur my assent.
She poses me by a marble post and starts shooting away. I’m a little embarrassed to see we’re drawing a crowd. Like I’m famous or something. Soon my Mom finds us and hugs Regina, leaving me no doubt that Regina is one of her online friends, too.
"Can I jump in a shot or two?" Mom asks.
"Yes!" Regina beams.
We take pictures, until a woman’s voice comes over the speakers and instructs everyone to take their seats prior to the ceremony beginning. Mom and I head to our table and join Jodie and a lot of the other girls.
Once everyone is in their seats and the room is quiet, the speakers start. Award after award is given to the authors, whose names I know vaguely from my talks with Mom. The atmosphere is positive and cheerful, and the speeches a combination of emotional and funny. I’m surprised by how little I notice the night passing. It’s enthralling to see such talented people and I’m happy to laugh at the jokes.
Finally, the convention coordinator announces that only more award would be given tonight – after a short break.
"Good timing," Mom tells me. "It’s time for your medicine."
I follow her to the bathroom and take my pills. They normally remind me of how weak and sick I am. But tonight, all I have to do is look in the mirror at the beautiful woman smiling back at me for my mood to improve.
If Jet was here, today might be the best day of my life.
We return to our table, just as the speaker starts talking again.
"If I may have your attention," she says. Instead of being at the stage, she’s in the middle of the ballroom, on the dance floor.
Talking quiets once more as we prepare for the final award and speech. I twist in my seat towards the dance floor and blink twice. My whole world seems to stop, and I begin to wonder if this is a dream.
Standing on the dance floor in a black tuxedo gazing back at me is Jett.
I look away then back.
Yep. It’s him, but I have no idea what he’s doing here.
Chapter Twenty: Jett
Here I am, ready to unravel my surprise. I’ve been preparing for weeks for this very moment, anxious and excited, scared yet determined. I can’t take my eyes off Rye; she is the most precious piece of my life. She looks absolutely incredible tonight in a crimson dress. Her dark curls make my fingers twitch for want of seeing if they’re as soft as they appear, and her face glows with earthy beauty and health.
I must have stared at her for a full minute before she noticed me. She looks twice, as if unable to believe I’m there, and her face goes blank with shock. I start to speak, when the convention coordinator thrusts a microphone into my hands. Foolishly, I realize Rye probably can’t hear me without it in a room this big.
I clear my throat nervously, take a deep breath and begin.
"Rye, not long after we met, you asked me what I wanted from you," I say. The room grows silent, and all eyes are on me. "I told you then that I wanted today only, that no matter what today holds, I knew I wanted to spend it with you."
Her hands are over her mouth, and she’s starting to cry. It’s getting harder for me to talk. My throat feels like it’s closing, and warmth pricks my eyes. I clear my throat again, needing to finish my speech.
"If you ask me that same question today, I would tell you this: I still want today only, but I want it with you as my wife."
A tear slides down my cheek. My hands are shaky as I set the microphone on the ground. My heart is pounding so hard in my ears, it drowns out the sounds of the air conditioning. I walk over to Rye, take a deep breath to settle my nerves, and kneel in front of her.
She’s shaking, tears streaming down her face and over the hands still over her mouth.
I pull the ring out of my pocket. It’s a simple gold band with TODAY ONLY engraved on its surface. To each side of the wording is a diamond.
"Rye Silcox," I say loudly, "will you marry me?"
She is silent and still for a long minute, before her gaze slides to her mom. Dee’s beaming smile is full of happy tears. Rye swallows hard, her hands dropping to her lap. They’re trembling with emotion I can see in her eyes as she faces me again.
"Yes. I will marry you, Jett." Her voice is almost too soft to hear.
I place the ring on her finger then stand up, pulling her with me. I kiss her with a joyful passion I never before experienced, wanting to convey the extent of my love and happiness with my lips. Rye’s response is just as hungry and eager.
Someone clears her throat, and I gently pull away from Rye.
"Thank you for accepting me, Rye," I whisper. She’s crying too hard to respond.
I’m not about to let go of her and wrap an arm around her. Suddenly, we’re surrounded by women congratulating us. Dee is the first to shower us with kisses and hugs. Once more, a line forms behind her, only this time, they won’t be trying to tackle me.
"If you can’t handle BBQ, I’m more than willing to help," Jodie says as she approaches. "I love running my French fries across BBQ meat."
I have no idea what that means, but I laugh, and so does Rye, who assures Jodie that she’ll let her know.
Regina, the photographer, rescues us from the crowd of women to pose for pictures. Rye is laughing and glowing by the end of the night. I’ve never seen her happier, and I can’t help thinking I’ve created an incredible memory for her.
After the evening of celebration ends, I let Dee know we’re leaving.
"Alright. Be careful with Rye, and have a safe trip," she says, a little worried.
"Safe trip?" Rye echoes, puzzled. "What do you mean? The hotel’s a few blocks away."
"I don’t want to wait to get married," I reply. "I want to take you to Las Vegas and marry you now."
Surprise crosses her features, mixed with a flush of excitement. Then her face falls.
"Oh, but, Mom, don’t you want me to have a big wedding?" she asks, turning to her mom.
"This is perfect. You guys will go to Vegas, and we’ll have a huge reception with friends and family next weekend."
"What about Em?"
"Em will be fine, Rye," I answer. "This is part of her surprise, too. When we left, she had a mom. When we get back, she’ll have a mom and dad."
Rye’s smile is brilliant. "Let’s do it."
I bend down and scoop her up into my arms then head towards the door. The catcalls and propositions begin anew as the crowd breaks into talk and laughter once more.
"BBQ, if Rye doesn't fulfill your dreams, I put my number on your speed dial," Jodie shouts.
"Give us a little strip dance first," someone else says.
"Rye share your meat," chimes in a third woman.
"Get me out of here," I whisper for Rye’s ears only.
We both giggle, and I walk faster. If anyone else is going to tackle me tonight, it’ll be Rye, not one of Dee’s sweet but wild friends.
"We’re only going to fly out, stay a night and come right back." I explain my plan when we reach the outside. "We don’t have enough of your medicine with us to stay longer, and I want us to begin our family life with Em." I set her down and open the door for her.
"Okay." She’s grinning. "Oh, but wait. I don’t have a ring for you!"
"Check my jacket pocket."
She reaches into it and withdraws a small box. Opening it, her smile returns. I bought the rings as a pair, and both are etched with the words Today Only. She clutches it as she sits in the car. I jog around it and slide into the driver’s seat.
Rye leans over to me and rests her head on my shoulder. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her, and I’m proud to say that I helped make her feel that way.
The next two days pass fast. We catch a flight to Las Vegas and head straight to the courthouse for a marriage license Monday morning. We’re the first people in line. It takes all of five minutes to obtain the paperwork, and we head directly to one of the many twenty-four hour chapels.
We get married in a perfectly manicured garden, surrounded by beautiful ornamental plants. The garden is enclosed by Italian cypress trees and tall, statuesque white pillars that render the setting intimate, secluded. The chapel calls this the Daytime Garden Package. It’s not a huge, fancy wedding, but it’s important to me that Rye has some kind of wedding.