* * *
Lucy and I sat in the front of a big theater that Mr. Peterson had managed to talk one of his clients into letting us use. It was an old, 1930s theater with a giant stage flanked by gaudy carvings in deep green and brown wood.
The ceiling was exquisite with grooves that went around in swirls, highlighted by lights criss-crossing the patterns they made.
The chairs in the theater were all removable, so we were able to use the entire thing for our reception. Round tables held giant floral centerpieces and people were buzzing around the big buffet off to the left side. We didn’t get an open bar, because neither Lucy nor I were old enough to drink yet.
“You’re my husband!” Lucy squealed in my ear as we walked in to another round of applause.
“I am so happy right now,” I answered, pushing her curls behind her shoulders so I could see the soft curve of them. We heard everyone in the theater clinking silverware against their glasses, signaling us to kiss. We obliged willingly and we were hooted and hollered at.
After everyone had eaten, the DJ started speaking and everyone settled down to listen. He was leading into our first dance, which I had been extremely nervous about. Lucy had dragged me to dance lessons. The dancing part wasn’t so bad; I actually did a better job than she did. But just thinking about dancing for a whole three minutes in front of all these people was like a slow, torturous death.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to call to the stage Mr. and Mrs. Johnson to share their first dance!” The DJ had a calming voice which encouraged me to move, holding Lucy’s hand, silently begging her not to do anything too silly to draw even more attention to us.
As if every eye in the room was not glued to us, anyway.
”To be Loved” by Jackie Wilson started playing and I took my wife in my arms, doing the steps we had practiced so many times. We moved perfectly together. It felt good to dance with her, lead her around on the dance floor, watching her eyes sparkle and see her long arms extend when I spun her out. She was stunning: so fluid, so remarkable. As Jackie crooned, “to be loved, what a feeling!” I felt myself forgetting where my feet were. All I could focus on was Lucy’s beautiful face and how amazing it was that I was looking into the eyes of my wife.
At the end of the song we climbed the steps to the head table, where Isaiah patted my back.
“Dude, your new nickname is Dancing Queen.”
I shook my head and watched all of our family and friends take our place on the dance floor, to start dancing to a popular hip-hop song. I was going to respond with some snide comment but Isaiah had completely forgotten that I existed. He was consumed with watching Evelyn dance.
He put his fist under his chin and cocked his head to the side. His jaw went slack and his tongue rolled out like that wolf in the old cartoons. I was half expecting to see him bashing himself over the head with a giant mallet.
I didn’t even have the heart to make fun of him, he was so out of his element. Isaiah sat there and watched Evelyn for ten whole minutes. Each new song made him look more and more pained, like he wanted so badly to do something but couldn’t figure out what or how. Finally, I spoke.
“Isaiah, just ask her to dance!” I shoved him and his head snapped up, out of his Evelyn-trance. He started sputtering something so incoherent it was obvious he was arguing with himself about arguing with me before he even started telling me off.
Right on cue, a slow song began. His face become so completely defeated it almost alarmed me, but I knew just how he felt. When he saw my smirk, though, he stood up resolutely. His slight limp carried him over to the other side of the table where Evelyn had just sat to wait out the slow song.
She looked startled when she saw him standing next to her with his hand out. Her eyes were gazing longingly at his fingers but she had a cautious look in her eyes, like she wouldn’t be surprised if he snatched it away the second before they touched and yelled, “psych!”
He didn’t move his hand however, and when she placed hers in his, he held it tight. Isaiah led Evelyn slowly out to the dance floor and, to my complete surprise he grabbed her waist, pulled her into him, and started rocking back and forth in perfect time with the music. He was smiling at her. I elbowed Lucy and pointed; she gasped when she saw them together. You would think, by the way that Isaiah treated Evelyn in public that the two of them would look awkward trying to figure out the way the other one moved.
But it wasn’t anything like that. The two of them moved in sync, perfectly. I thought back to the prom and I realized that had been over two years ago. Evelyn had been Isaiah’s little pet ever since. (Or maybe it had been the other way around).
Isaiah placed his hand on Evelyn’s face, bent down, and put his lips gently on her mouth. She swept his hair away from her face and tucked it behind his ears, then held his cheek. It looked like something they had done a million times before. It was a calming thing to watch actually, like seeing two old married people. As the song ended, he kept her hand in his, walked her back to her chair, and then limped back to his own seat. I just looked at him, not saying a word.
“Oh, shut up.” He started eating his food silently.
Lucy and I had to walk around to greet, and thank, everyone in the room. It wasn’t so bad. A few years ago I would have considered it punishment, but how could I complain now, with my stunning wife beside me? I was surprised that so many people asked us how we met. It gave me an idea of what to say during my speech, right near the end of the reception.
After a series of clinking glasses and kissing, I was handed the microphone. It was against everything in my nature to stand up and talk in front of all of these people, but I couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It was time for some public thanks.
“Lucy and I want to thank you all for coming to our wedding.” Everyone applauded and I felt my embarrassment start to rise. “A lot of people asked me tonight how I met this stunning girl.” I looked over at Lucy, who was smiling so kindly at me that I felt my throat close up and my eyes get watery. I didn’t care. I knew my voice was cracking. I was just going to go with it.
“The truth is, Lucy saved my life one day, at a lake where she was ice skating.” I reached my hand out to her and she grabbed onto it. “She had fallen into that frozen lake and I wanted to help her. At one point, I had to let go so I could get a better grip, and she begged me not to leave her.” Tears were actually running down my face, now. Lucy’s hand squeezed mine. She was crying, too.
“I knew, in that moment, that I wasn’t ever going to leave her. Either we were both getting out of there or we were both going down, together.” I put my hand over my heart and repeated what I had said earlier, looking straight at my wife. “Lucy, you saved my life that day.” I dropped the microphone on the table, and scooped her up in my arms, holding her against me in an embrace that I wanted to spend the rest of my life perfecting.
It was true, every single word. We had been up and down in our relationship, both of us alternating between drowning and rescuing, both of us trying to keep the other afloat. We hadn’t done it on our own – we had been afforded a huge amount of grace.
I buried my face into Lucy’s neck and offered some silent thanks for her, for my family, and my friends. My old life was gone, and my new life had officially begun.
31. LUCY
I sat in the middle of the large theater with my dress half way up my right thigh and Isaiah yelling at David to take my garter off with his teeth. I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I already knew he would never, in a million years, do something like that. Even the suggestion looked like it was causing him some kind of physical pain. He shot a look at Isaiah, the usual daggers that said “I hate you.”
It really was the most adorable, amazing thing when David was embarrassed. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity so I hiked my dress up a little bit higher. His silent laugh rolled through his shoulders but didn’t escape from his tightly closed mouth. He quickly reached up and pulled my garter off.
His fingers were rough and stained with chalk from what was now constant sketching and drawing. They were strong, with a few calluses: worker’s hands. The trail his fingernails left on my leg as he pulled the garter from my calf itched. My husband stood up, looking like he had defeated our attempts at embarrassing him, and looped the little piece of lace around his finger a few times. Then he winked at me.
My heart gave a little flutter, filling my stomach with butterflies. The David of today was so different from that seventeen-year-old boy I had been so obsessed with. That boy was unsure, insecure, and untrusting of anyone, especially himself. No one had been able to see what I had seen in that boy, but I remember clearly the passion I saw in his eyes when we were alone. That longing to break free of whatever prison he was forced into. His heart was so pure for being so broken that I had to know him. I had seen his potential, the man he could become. And now a man even greater than I had imagined was standing in front of me.
Now, today, a twenty year old man who was confident and sure of himself was winking at me. He embraced his shy side and brought out that passion for life that I had always suspected, and that he had kept hidden for so long. I still had no idea how I had snagged him, in the end. My actions did not merit one bit of the goodness that was on my plate these days. It was purely God’s grace that I was so lucky; I was more sure of that then I was of anything else. As I pondered how little I had done to get myself here, and how much a higher power had blessed me, David squared up for the garter-toss.
He turned his back to all the single men who had gathered out on the dance floor. With one giant swoop, he flung it over and behind his shoulder. It landed perfectly in the middle of the group. For David, it was effortless for him to be so dead-on every time he tried to do something. There was a mad dash for the tiny lacy thing and then up came Johnny, looking like he had won the lottery, swinging my garter above his head.
“It’s your turn.” David helped me up out of my chair and kissed me on my nose. I wanted so badly for this whole shindig to be over with so I could spend some time alone with him.
Evelyn ran the “spare” bouquet over for me to throw. I wound my arm up three times, then flung the little bundle full force into the crowed. It went completely over everyone’s heads. The entire group of girls backed up to catch it. It was so funny to see everyone scrambling around, trying to be the final victor. I had to sit down from laughing so hard.
One of David’s cousins caught it; she paraded around with it over her head. The wedding photographer got a picture of Johnny and the Cousin together and took a picture of them holding their prizes. I looked over at David, who was fidgeting with his watch and doing his nervous hair pat thing he did.
I was always a little bit mesmerized when I watched him fiddle with his intensely pitch-black hair; it was like pure silk that fell around his face in waves.
“You okay?” I asked, coming up from behind him and putting my arms around him.
“I’m definitely okay,” he said, smiling at me, the right side of his lip going up farther than his left. “It’s almost time for us to leave.” He looked over my head, probably at nothing. I giggled nervously and he turned his attention back to me to kiss my nose.
“What?”
“Nothing, just excited.”
“So am I,” he spoke quietly, patting the hair on the back of his head again. I hadn’t seen him do that in a long time; he was nervous. His amazing face wasn’t giving anything away, as usual, but I knew him well enough by now to know when he was over-thinking something. His eyebrows would meet in the middle and his thin top lips would tighten around the edges. All that was happening, as he looked everywhere but at me, and I stared straight at him. I buried my head in his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” I whispered into his ear and I felt his body relax in my arms.
“You.”
Oh heavens, was this party over yet?
“Girl, it’s time for you guys to go!” Jennika came up to me with Lydia in her arms. She looked panicked, like if we didn’t leave right on time something was going to explode.
She and David were perfect for me, two perfectionists. I grabbed Lydia out of Jennika’s arms and held on to my baby girl tightly, feeling a rush of guilt that I was going to be leaving her for a few days. She hugged me back and kissed my cheek. I felt the saliva from her teething mouth drip down to my ear. I wiped it away and held her little hand up to my face. This girl was such a miracle. To think that her father, her birth father, wanted me to just abort her. And then, when I thought of how incredibly difficult it would have been to raise her alone. Thank God for David, he had wanted her before I had even made up my mind, but he had talked it over with me like it was the most important thing in the world to both of us. He had wanted us to make the right decision more than even wanting Lydia to be in our lives.
He was such an amazing father. From day one, Lydia was his daughter. He never believed any other thing, and neither did she. He was the most selfless person I had ever met in my life. And, as much as he had changed, that one thing about him had always been consistent. I wanted to be like him.
“How you doing?” David asked me, putting his big hands on Lydia’s brown curls.
“I feel awful for leaving her!”
“Me too, but she’ll be okay with your parents for two days. She probably won’t even know we’re gone.” He smiled wryly, and was right. She was so independent. I don’t know where she got it, but she was perfectly happy being passed around, and having sleepovers at her grandparents’, and having some random person at church holding her.
I kissed her and handed her back to Jennika who left, making me feel like the worst mother in the world. Not even the prospect of what that evening might have in store made me feel better about leaving Lydia. I felt David’s hand slip into mine and he raised it, kissing the wedding ring he had given me, the one that had belonged to my grandma Lucy. She had also been married to a David. They had been my mother’s parents and I wished they could have seen this, and that they could have met my pretty little Goth boy.
Isaiah, Johnny, and Evelyn ushered us up to the wings of the theater, to a large box seat that must have been for presidents when this place was open for shows. It was a level higher than everyone else in the room, and a perfect place to make our escape without having to say a separate goodbye to all of them. We waved happily to the crowd and they cheered and waved back.
I felt an adrenaline rush and my sorrow about Lydia melted away when I saw everyone waving and clapping. Isaiah and Johnny had raced back down and were now wolf calling and heckling us.
We left the theater from the special exit for whoever was important enough to sit in that box. Our limo, already packed with our bags, drove us to the hotel room that David’s father had gotten us for the evening. It was on Big Mountain, and had a fireplace, a Jacuzzi outside, and a giant living room and bedroom. It was one of the nicest places in this town.
I started bouncing up and down in my seat, unable to contain my excitement about being David’s wife. It was like time had finally slowed down enough for me to really realize it. It had finally happened! We were married!
I turned around and took a long at him, realizing that I hadn’t acknowledged him in a while, just being in my own little Lucy world, but he looked perfectly content. I guess he was used to me spacing out and doing or saying anything on my mind.
He looked like he was deep in thought again, anyway. His green eyes brightened when I looked over at him and he opened his arms for me to come and snuggle. When I obliged, he put his arm around my shoulder and I felt his cool lips press against the top of my head. I thought about mentioning that there was a privacy glass, and we were married, but he started talking before I let that thought go any farther.
“I’m freaking out right now, Luce.” He held me tightly so I couldn’t get up and look him in the face. I knew that he had been worried about our wedding night, but I wasn’t sure why. If only he knew how much I wanted to
be with him his worries would disappear and be exchanged with deep blushing and absolutely adorable stammering. Then that would send me into a complete frenzy and the night would really get going.
“I am, too,” I said, feeling stupid, acting like the blushing bride. Was I allowed to act that way? I felt that way. But I also felt like I didn’t deserve this night and this amazing man who was determined to respect me and keep his word.
“Come on, I’m counting on you to be my hyper girl and not let me have time or energy to feel self-conscious.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said, feeling a shot of excitement. I rested my head against his chest, giving up on trying to look at him. A familiar love song came on the radio; it filled the car with a calming melody. To my great pleasure, David started harmonizing with it. I wanted to melt against him. I loved the sound of his voice. It was deep and raspy, such a contradiction to his delicate features.
There was no other way to put it, but David was a pretty boy. He had a narrow face that went down to a perfect point at his chin. His green eyes were deep, like they could see through to your very thoughts. They were surrounded by thick eye lashes. The lashes weren’t long, but there had to be hundreds of tiny little black strands, like he could lose ten a day for the rest of his life and he would still have a ridiculous amount. His skin was a golden tan, a natural tan. He wasn’t one to go out sunbathing; I imagined if he was fond of the sun he would almost look Hispanic in the summers. I felt his thick chest rise and fall with the words he was singing to me.
His strong arms were still holding me down so I couldn’t turn around. I pinched his leg and he released me easily. Then he smiled at my dumb expression.
“What?” he asked me, looking around like someone had said something that he hadn’t heard.
“I was just thinking that if you had been raised by my parents, you probably would have been the preppiest guy in high school!”
“Now, why would my new wife say such mean things to me?” He glared, which made me laugh.
My Stupid Girl Page 44