Neither of us is a perfect being, Jane said, with no trace of venom. Then, less benignly, I, of course, am not the one with a history of such lamentable suitors.
I almost laughed aloud. You forget, I’ve read your biography. Plenty of “history,” as you say, was hinted at for you, dear Jane. Just because the intimate details of your romances weren’t recorded for posterity doesn’t mean they didn’t exist.
A moment of stone-cold silence followed. My history lacked the outrageous drama of yours, she retorted.
Well, she had me there.
Yet, at Mark and Seth’s union, five years later in Toronto, I felt sure I was not in the midst of some new romantic melodrama. I felt sure I’d matured greatly. And I felt sure that what I was now experiencing with Andrei was merely a part of the relationship process — the next step, if you will, on my own road to eventual holy matrimony.
That bright, late-May afternoon, with Andrei as a member of our merry crowd, I scanned the congregation from my place at the podium, under a billowing white canopy, and read into the microphone a selection from Gibran’s The Prophet.
“When love beckons to you,
follow it…
And when its wings enfold you,
yield to it…
And when it speaks to you,
believe in it…
Think not that you can direct the course of love,
for love,
if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.”
I looked into Mark and Seth’s eyes, aglow with what I’d undoubtedly call love, and I smiled at them both. Then I stepped down from my perch of honor and wound my way back to my seat next to my Slavic boyfriend. He spread his palm over my bare knee and shot me a wink.
My old roommate Kim, who was sitting on the other side of me and struggling to keep her three little ones from whining or crawling under the seats, nudged me once and said, “Nice job.” Then she hissed at her husband, “Grab Jordan! Don’t let him eat the grass!”
Tom, who was the parental bookend further down the row, snatched up their nine-month-old son, pried the fistful of crabgrass from his little hand and stuck an arrowroot cracker in the kid’s mouth.
Kim and I laughed. Tom grinned at us. Andrei’s hand slid a few millimeters up my thigh. Jordan gummed the cracker and gurgled while Mark and Seth exchanged rings.
It was a near-perfect moment, and I could feel in my nerve fibers that I should be next. That I should get to have this crew all around me again — a year from now, perhaps — only Andrei and I would be the ones up in front of the crowd, pledging our vows and our intention for a shared future.
I impulsively turned to Andrei and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. He responded by slipping his fingers under the hem of my tasteful rose-colored dress.
“Not here,” I whispered in panic.
“Where then?” he countered.
“Nowhere now! This is a wedding — ”
“Then afterward. At big reception.” He squeezed my thigh for emphasis before releasing me, and I tried to block out an unwelcome wave of dread.
Mostly, I loved sex with Andrei but, lately, it’d been getting wilder. Louder. Kinkier. And increasingly less discreet. We did it once in the employees’ bathroom at the Shop-N-Save. We did it with handcuffs. Twice. He insisted we try it blindfolded, under the stars, at the park, before midnight one Tuesday. Thank God we didn’t get caught.
But here I glanced around us, almost frantic. Where could we go so he could get his fix? And that was exactly what it felt like — a kind of addiction — especially when we were trapped in not-very-sexually-conducive moments like these, and I was stuck trying to arrange something to tide him over for a few hours. I wanted to be able to socialize for at least part of the reception. I didn’t want to be biting my lip in a dark closet somewhere to keep the other guests from hearing my screams of rapture.
However, since this was an outdoor wedding, our options were limited.
“I’m not doing it in the port-o-potty,” I informed him. “And our hotel is a half-hour’s drive away.”
He nodded. “How about car?” Then he paused to reconsider. “No, too easy.”
“Too easy?” I imagined the logistics of getting in a position even remotely comfortable in that tiny car. And his Volkswagen had a stick shift.
“Too easy for people to see us,” he explained. “Maybe there is good place on other side, by workers?”
There was a small building, not far from where the reception garden was, where the caterers could organize their trays before bringing them out. However, service people swarmed that area and everything else was pretty much open air. We had tents or canopies covering us but, since the day was cool yet very clear, there were few hiding places.
“I guess we can look,” I said, wanting to please him but not knowing if it’d be possible. “I doubt we’ll find anything really private, though.”
He shrugged and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I know we find something.”
A cheer went up around us, and I realized that our negotiating had distracted me. I’d missed the announcement of Mark and Seth’s permanent couplehood.
I stopped whispering with Andrei and joined in the clapping. I saw a line forming to greet and congratulate the new pair.
“Let me talk to Mark and Seth for a few minutes, and then we’ll figure out a place, okay?”
He studied me with those intense gray eyes, his expression one of assessment rather than of passion. “Okay,” he said just before I turned away to shake hands with the grooms.
Seth gave me a jolly hug and Mark kissed my cheeks, both sides, when I offered them my congratulations.
Mark leaned in. “You caught yourself one hunky Russian dude, babe. I couldn’t help but stare at him when the two of you got here.”
I grinned. “Yeah. I’ll introduce you to him later when we have more time to chat.”
Mark raised his blond eyebrows. “I’ll hold you to that, Ellie.”
“But remember,” I told him. “You’re a married man now. No flirting.”
He shot a look at Andrei, who seemed to be people-watching from his chair. “Oh, don’t worry about me. You’d better keep a tight rein on him, though. The flock thinks he’s delicious.”
I followed Mark’s gaze and saw immediately that he wasn’t kidding. There was a small tribe of single women — Canadian, I think, none of whom I knew — who kept eyeing Andrei and sending flashes of carnal interest his way. To Andrei’s credit and to my heart’s relief, he smiled at the women, but conversed with no one.
I walked back to Andrei and sat down next to him again. “Alrighty. We’re clear for a while. Did you figure out a good spot?”
To my surprise, he shook his head and said, “Maybe now is not best time. We can wait for after dinner.”
Grateful, I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks. Yeah, we’ll be better able to slip away unnoticed then.”
“Yes.”
Although Jane chatted constantly throughout the dinner — commenting on the meal, on the variety of outfits, on the reception guests and on Canadians in general — Andrei, by contrast, was unusually silent. He’d send an occasional heated look my way, though, and he seemed to be enjoying the spirited conversation Kim, Tom and their brood of antsy young ones brought to our table, so I figured the long drive and active weekend had begun to take their toll.
“Callie, put the fork down. Down!” Kim cried. “Do not stab your brother with it.” She motioned to her husband across the table. “Tom. Stop her.”
Tom, who’d been picking rice-cereal clumps out of little Jordan’s hair, reached around Callie’s quieter twin, Zack, and grabbed the offending utensil. Two-and-a-half-year-old Callie gave him a demonic glare and snatched up her spoon. She aimed it menacingly at her baby brother. Baby Jordan responded with a shriek and soon the whole table was in an uproar.
“Remind us to get a sitter next time,” Tom said to Andrei and me with a sheepish grin.<
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We laughed, and I couldn’t help but wonder yet again what it would be like to be parents with Andrei. I could see him holding our baby, cradling the infant in his large arms ever so gently. I was nearly moved to tears by the image. I caught his eye and tried to convey my devotion with a glance. His look telegraphed tenderness. I hoped that was what he felt. I hoped, in fact, he felt the dawning of commitment.
This is a rather romantic setting, is it not? Jane observed. In spite of the bevy of youngsters.
They say there’s nothing like a wedding to bring a couple together, I replied.
Jane laughed. “They” say a great many things better left unspoken. Think for yourself, Ellie. Do not rely on the professed wisdom of others.
I rely on YOUR wisdom, Jane. Would you suggest I start ignoring you, too?
She sniffed. I believe you already do that routinely.
Well, that shut me up.
A few minutes later, the cake was brought out. Andrei nudged me with his knee. “I have idea.”
I watched in anticipation as Mark and Seth cut their cake — complete with two grooms atop it — and the photographer’s camera flashed to document the occasion. The caterers began passing out slices, and we were one of the first tables to be served.
Andrei stood up and snagged both our plates of cake while Kim and Tom tried to keep their children from smearing the frosting on each other and themselves. “Excuse us,” he said. My preoccupied parent friends scarcely noticed our departure.
“This way,” Andrei whispered to me. And, little sheep that I was, I followed him without a second thought.
He led me back toward where the catering trucks were, and he pointed to a small one. “That is one big cake came in,” he informed me. “Workers are too busy now cutting pieces and serving. Truck is empty.”
“Oh,” I said, but I was thinking, How resourceful of him.
“Come.”
The back doors flapped open in the breeze, so he lifted me inside and locked them shut behind us. With the doors closed, it was pitch black.
“Take off pretty dress, Ellie.”
My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, but I glanced around, trying to see the inside of the truck anyway. “Here?”
One of his hands groped my breast. “Yes. Here.”
I was only just beginning to detect shadows and could now perceive Andrei’s silhouette in front of me. He was still holding the cake plates, both in his right hand while his left continued to caress me.
I unzipped the scoop-necked dress, shivered and stepped out of it. Then I placed it carefully on a box or a crate or a something, away from us. When I stood near Andrei again, he dipped his finger into the frosting and smeared it on my chest.
“Yummy,” he said as I gasped. “This is how I want to eat cake.” Then, as his fingertips decorated my body with white cake and frosting, he began to sing to me, low and slow, half in broken English and half in Russian, in between licking off his designs.
I locked Jane out of my mind (best for all concerned) and what followed was raunchy, wild, highly erotic and unbelievably weird.
Every second that ticked by I wondered if someone would swing open those doors. I wondered how I’d keep pace with Andrei when we were married and together every night. And I wondered how my body could respond with such explosiveness whenever we touched.
What began as a fog of confusion, though, cleared into sky-blue certainty: This must be special. A rare connection. A sign.
And Andrei’s lyrics in the midst of his sexual fervor brought E. M. Forster unwittingly to mind. “Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height,’” I quoted to myself, giggling at the juxtaposition.
“What is funny?” Andrei asked me.
I kissed him hard. “I’m just happy. You make me happy.” And I meant it. As offbeat as our relationship had been, I could feel the completion of my life just beyond my grasp. This time, I’d reach it, and I’d “live in fragments no longer.”
He returned the kiss, nipping a bit more, too, but he said nothing until we heard voices outside.
“Who is here?” he whispered.
“Oh, shit!” I jumped away to slide again into my dress, and Andrei hastily re-zipped his pants.
The truck’s back doors jerked, but didn’t open.
“It’s locked,” a male voice said. “You got the key?”
“Nope. Where’s Val? She should have one,” a lady answered. “You wanna wait here while I get it?”
In the dark, Andrei shook his head, as if telling the man to say no, but even in deep shadow I could make out the broad grin on his face. My heart pounded in my chest like we were tangoing on landmines, but he was enjoying this. No, loving this. I held my breath. We were such different people, Andrei and I. But opposites attracted, right?
The guy outside answered, “Nah. I’ll go with you. I can grab a few more trays then.” I heard their voices grow softer as they walked away.
We managed to slip out of the truck unnoticed, but on our way back to the table Mark materialized, a blond Adonis in a black tuxedo.
“Well, here you two are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Been wanting to meet you.” He held out his palm toward Andrei, and the men shook hands.
I spoke too fast, I knew, explaining with wild hand gestures how we’d been out taking a walk…because, um…it was such a lovely area and the weather was so mild. Mark shot me a sharp look and Andrei glanced around as if searching for an escape route. I pressed on anyway, eventually making the official introductions.
Andrei spoke up then. “This is very nice ceremony and dinner.”
“Thanks. We’ve been looking forward to this day for ages.” Mark sniffed the air. “Hey, did you guys get any cake? God, I’m smelling it everywhere.” He paused and looked around. “Hmm. Anyway, I think they’ve got a few pieces left on the table if you missed out.”
We assured him we’d tried it.
“Good,” Mark said. “So, Andrei — ” He got the devilish glint in his eye that I remembered so well from our college days. “Tell me, what are your intentions with our young Ellie? Should Seth and I have reason to expect a cake-filled celebration for you two anytime soon?”
Andrei looked momentarily confused, no doubt trying to reconcile the way we’d conducted ourselves over the past half hour in regards to “cake” with what Mark had really been asking. “We see in time,” he said finally.
Mark cocked a brow. “Well, just keep us posted, will you?” Then he shook hands with Andrei again and leaned in to plant more kisses on my cheeks. “You smell tasty, El,” he whispered in my ear. “Hope it was fun.”
My eyes widened at this, and I tried to look innocent, but from the expression on my friend’s face, he wasn’t buying it. He winked at me, waved to Andrei and strode off grinning.
“He knows,” I said, closing my eyes. “I don’t know how, but he figured it out.”
Andrei shrugged.
Then I looked down at my dress. It was on correctly, but a streak of white frosting marked my chest like an insignia, just above the plunging neckline. “Oh,” I said.
Andrei rested his hand on my shoulder and patted me. “I missed a spot.”
“Guess so.” I tried to fight the embarrassment as I brushed away the smudge with the tissue he handed me, but it was a losing battle. Andrei was unconcerned, probably even proud of his sexual exploits. I was still a geek at heart.
But I had a great lover now. One who’d stand by me. I had a reason to change.
I took a deep breath, determined to be cool for once in my life. The words that emerged from my mouth, however, were anything but.
“So, about what Mark said — ” I began. “We haven’t really talked much about the future…” I trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint and finish the thought.
He said nothing.
“Um, well, do you have some kind of a plan in mind? A sort of time frame for getting more involved, you know?”<
br />
He gave me a blank stare.
I waited him out this time.
“It is wedding now for other people,” he said. “We talk more when we go home.”
In an odd way, I took this as symbolically encouraging. He didn’t want to mix up our own wedding plans with those of others. He wanted our marriage to be distinct from the events around us. Something just the two of us would construct.
Throughout the dance that night, I watched him carefully. Everything I thought and felt, he confirmed by his actions. He sat back and relaxed, allowing me to chat with friends as he absorbed the atmosphere in reflective silence. We danced together several times, but on the few occasions when some other woman approached him, undoubtedly to beg for a waltz or a two-step, he always politely turned her down.
I considered this proof he was mine.
Twenty-four hours later, on the eleven-hour drive back to Chicago, I napped in the passenger seat while Andrei sped us home. I was exhausted from the busy weekend, pleased to have seen my old college friends again and relieved Andrei didn’t suggest stopping at a roadside 7-Eleven for a quickie. One happy girl.
“I am caring deeply about you, Ellie,” Andrei said after I woke up.
I grinned at him. “I feel the same way about you. You know that.”
He nodded. “Yes. But here is problem. I want to be with other women.”
I blinked, aware the Michigan landscape was going by far too fast and maybe I’d missed something in the blur. “Sorry, um, what?”
“I am wanting to be with other women. You know. Talking? Dating? Fucking?”
Something inside my chest turned to lead. “What?”
He sighed. “I know you are not wanting to hear this, but I care about you. I remember what you said long time ago. If I am wanting to cheat, you say, I should break up with you.” He looked me in the eye, which wasn’t a real bright idea given his driving speed. “I am doing this. I must break up with you now. It is your wish.”
“No!” I ground out. “It’s not my wish. I don’t want our relationship to end. Andrei, I — I love you.”
According to Jane Page 16