Neighbors

by Ashleigh Royce

  “I have a nice pair of pearl earrings I can wear,” I add.

  “Okay, ‘something old’,” she says. “Now all we need is something blue.” She taps her chin with her index finger. “Got it! Come with me.”

  The rest of the week has me crazy with cleaning the house and scrubbing everything. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re going to have the wedding in the house or if I’m nesting early. Joey tells Dylan that I’m always this obsessed with cleaning and he has less than a week to get out of the whole deal. I don’t find my brother’s comment humorous.

  The Friday night before the wedding, my parents, and Joey and Cheryl meet us at the restaurant where Dylan proposed to me. We’ve reserved the back room. Tracy has been flirting with Kyle since he walked in.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” my mother says when I introduce my parents to Stuart and Maria. Stuart is so sweet as he engages my parents in conversation. Maria rolls her eyes and stares off to the side. Apparently, she feels the people who are here to support Dylan and I are beneath her. I wonder, What does Stuart see in her?

  Dylan’s brother Michael is working a tour, so he won’t be able to join us, but says he wouldn’t miss the ceremony on Sunday. “I can’t believe my brother is lucky enough to be marrying such a great girl,” is his statement. I confirm my judgment. He’s a sweetie.

  Dinner is fantastic and everyone is having a great time, everyone except Maria. She excuses herself and heads toward the ladies’ room. I decide I should go talk to her. I’ll offer her an olive branch. After all, we’ll be family now. Yeah, wait until she finds out she’s going to be a grandma.

  Inside the restroom, I wait until Maria is finished in the stall and washes her hands. “Maria, I hope you’re enjoying your dinner. They have awesome food here.”

  She applies a fresh coat of lipstick and smacks her lips together. She doesn’t turn to look at me, but addresses me through the mirror. “Well, it certainly isn’t Le Cirque, but it isn’t bad.”

  I inhale and hold my breath for a few seconds before I begin. “Um, Maria, I was hoping we could start over. Since we’re going to be related now, I thought we could be friends.”

  She stops fiddling with her mascara and looks at me, still through the mirror. Her glare is scary. I hold my breath. “Well, I guess we’ll have to pretend for the sake of family functions, but I don’t see us spending much time together.” Her head finally turns and she looks me up and down. “We don’t exactly shop in the same stores, Melissa.” She returns her attention to the mirror. She adjusts the shoulders on her silk blouse, then turns to leave. She stops at the door and faces me. “Good try though.” And then she walks out the door.

  I grab her before it closes and haul her back into the ladies’ room. Her expression is wild. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses.

  “Maria, look, I know that you and Dylan dated a few times and it didn’t work out. I also know that you shot your arrow a little higher after that and landed Stuart. I don’t know what your dynamic or you’re motive is, nor do I care; that’s between you and Stuart. But I’m really trying to be friends with you here. Why won’t you even try?”

  Her eyes narrow and her mouth shifts into a sinister grin. “Melissa, I wouldn’t be so quick to judge people. You barely know Dylan. You don’t know anything about his past or what he‘s done.” She purses her lips. “You don’t know what’s good for him.” She sneers at me. “And it isn’t for you to decide who I should be friends with.” She pulls her arm from my grip. “Besides, you don’t know that he’ll stay with you. I’m sure he’ll tire of you one day and then you’ll be looking for a replacement, just like I did. But I’ll have him back, one day.” She lifts her chin up and walks out of the bathroom.

  I ask my reflection, Is she fuckin’ kidding me?

  It’s then that I realize she’s right. I don’t know anything about Dylan’s past or if he’ll tire of me.

  Twenty-Six

  I return to the party, but I’m affected by what Maria said. She’s sitting across the room, staring at me with an all too knowing grin. I take the empty seat next to Kyle. My plan is to talk to him to find out something about Dylan’s past.

  “Hey, Melissa. Getting cold feet yet?” he asks before taking a swig of his beer.

  “Nah, but I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about this stranger I’m going to marry in a couple of days.” I laugh to make it seem as if I’m joking, but really, I’m not.

  He laughs too. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  I start my inquisition. Because Kyle is a little buzzed, his guard is down. He’s more than willing to tell me about Dylan’s younger days. “Yeah, in high school he was a kick-ass pitcher.” Although he’s slightly wasted, Kyle apologizes for his harsh language. “He was all district champion until he tore his rotator cuff. Surgery took him out of the running for the scholarship he was aiming for. He was taking a lot of pain medication. He went to physical therapy four times a week. He worked at being better. The fact that he couldn’t play as well as he had before was hard enough for him, but then his mom was diagnosed with cancer. He plunged into depression.”

  Kyle takes a moment, no doubt to remember Mrs. Townsend. “When she died, Dylan spiraled downward. His addiction crossed over into heavier drugs. It was hard to watch it.” Kyle stares off into his memory. “Stuart and Michael got him into rehab. Part of his therapy was to help build homes for less fortunate people. You know, to appreciate that life is not all about him. He liked helping other people. It changed him. He applied to trade school and graduated top of his class.”

  My eyes open wide, my mouth agape, as I ingest all that Kyle spills. I had no idea. Dylan never told me any of this. But I never asked. Idiot! You were so wrapped up in your own insecurities you didn’t even bother to think that he might have some of his own secrets.

  I’m about to ask more questions, when my parents walk over. “We’re going home, Sweetie. It’s been a long day.”

  “Okay, Mom,” I say. Then notice Joey and Cheryl are behind them. I guess they’re leaving too.

  “We’ll see you on Sunday.”

  “Okay, Dad.” I hug everyone before they go home.

  When almost everyone is gone, Dylan goes with Stuart to settle the bill. Stuart insists on paying for the evening as a gift to us. Tracy bounces over to me. “I think I’m getting through to Kyle. He seems interested.” Her smile takes up most of her face.

  I smile back. “That’s great, Trace.”

  “Say, you okay, Mel?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I worked today and it’s late.”

  We hug and she leaves, with Kyle. Dylan and I go home.

  * * *

  Dylan lies beside me in bed. I can tell he’s just about to drift off, but I’m wide-awake. I can’t sleep knowing all of the new information Kyle shared with me. “Dylan?”

  “Mmm?” It’s a groggy response.

  “I talked with Kyle this evening.”

  “Mmm.”

  “He told me about what you went through.”

  “Mmm.”

  “When you had surgery on your arm, and… your mom.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I didn’t mean to dump all of my past information on you without wanting to know about you. I’ve been selfish. I just want you to know that I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

  He rolls over and puts his arms around me. “Don’t worry, Melissa. We have forever to talk about it. I love you.” He gives me a tender kiss and then closes his eyes. It’s then that I notice a small tear in the corner of his eye. It glistens in the moonlight that filters through the window.

  * * *

  I work all day Saturday. At the end of my shift, Eileen and Gladys take me to the local bar where we meet Tracy. We chat like teenage girls at a slumber party and giggle at everything. It’s really nice and I have a great time.

  I’m home by eleven. It’s the night before t
he wedding and Dylan insists on staying at his dad’s house. He wants to keep the tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony. Sunday morning, Tracy comes over early to help me with my hair and make-up. She’s wearing a beautiful black dress that contrasts against her almost white skin. A rhinestone hairclip holds back a small lock of her black bob. Her make up is perfectly balanced. I know she wants to look nice for me, but I think she’s aiming on gaining Kyle’s attention.

  I’m only three and a half months pregnant, but I’m still experiencing morning sickness.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Tracy says from the outside of the bathroom door. “It’s a beautiful November day. The leaves are beginning to turn and the yard is filled with color; decorations provided by Mother Nature.” She laughs. “Everything will be great. You’re getting hitched to a really great guy. He loves you, Mel. You’ve nothing to be anxious over.”

  I open the door and walk into the bedroom. “I’m not anxious. Well, yes, I’m anxious, but that’s not why I’m throwing up.” I take Tracy’s hand in mine and drag her onto the bed next to me. Her face twists with confusion. “Now don’t over react.” I pause. “Promise?” She nods. “Tracy?”

  “I promise,” she blurts.

  I stare at her, making sure she’s sincere. “Tracy…I’m pregnant.”

  “What?! You are?!” She squeals and hugs me.

  “That’s one of the reasons why we’re getting married so soon.”

  “I thought it was because there was no reason to wait; you weren’t doing the big dress and millions of people-thing again, and you’ve been living together for a few months already…”

  “Well, in another few weeks, I won’t be able to hide it.”

  Tracy leans over and gives me a tight squeeze. “Oh Mel, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Trace.”

  She gives my arm a light smack. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend.”

  “It all happened so fast. And when I called you the other day, when I found out, you couldn’t talk. Your boss was on the rampage.”

  “Well,” her voice softens, “you’re telling me now. That’s all that matters.” She’s wearing a ridiculous grin. “Aunt Tracy,” she says over and over. “I like that.”

  I smile. I like it too.

  “Okay, let’s get you dressed so we can get the show on the road.” Tracy fixes the gossamer curls she’s made in my hair and then helps me into the simple ivory dress I purchased for the occasion. I hear the doorbell ring.

  “I’ll go find out who’s here,” she says. I can hear her excitement. And then she’s out of the bedroom. My mother’s voice radiates through the house. It gets louder as I hear her walk up the steps and into the bedroom. She stops in the doorframe and places a hand on her chest. Her eyes soften. I know what’s coming next.

  “Oh, my baby,” her voice is shaky. “You look beautiful!”

  I can always count on my mother to make me feel special. She walks up to me and squeezes me to her chest. Then she holds me at arm’s length. Tears spill down her cheeks.

  “Melissa, I’m so happy for you. Dylan is such a wonderful man.” Her tone changes to a harsher one. “Much nicer than that last piece of filth you were married to. Dylan will make a good husband and father.” She adds the last piece as a hint that she wants grandchildren.

  “I’m glad you said that Mom. Why don’t you sit down?”

  You know that saying, ‘You could have knocked her over with a feather’? Well, that was what came to mind after I told her that both of her wishes were coming true.

  “Is that the reason you’re getting married?” she asks.

  “No, he asked before he knew.”

  The information makes my mother smile. “But is that why you’re getting married?”

  “No, Mom. I love him.” Her smile widens. I decide to change the subject. “Where are Daddy and Joey?”

  “Everyone is downstairs.”

  I hear the doorbell ring again. Tracy comes into the room. “All the guests are here.”

  “Gladys and Eileen?” I ask.

  “Here.”

  “Kyle?”

  Tracy smiles. “Yes, Mr. Yummy is here. Although, I might make him disappear right after the ceremony.” Her mischievous grin tells me what she has in mind.

  I roll my eyes and continue the checklist. “Dylan’s brother, Michael?”

  “Yup.”

  “Stuart and Maria?”

  “All here.”

  “Okay. Then I guess it’s time that I get hitched.”

  Tracy and my mother walk ahead of me to the top landing of the staircase.

  “Oh, is Dylan here?” I ask.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he calls up from the bottom of the steps.

  “Don’t come up,” Tracy yells.

  “I won’t. I won’t.”

  Tracy gives me her serious-business stare. “Okay, when the music starts, you walk down the stairs, slowly, okay?” She stresses the word ‘slowly.’

  I nod. Then my mother turns toward me and gives me a big kiss and a hug before she walks down the steps. I peer down and see my father waiting for me. The music starts. Tracy pats my belly and then hugs me before taking the stairs one at a time. When she reaches the bottom, she turns and gives me a ‘thumbs up.’

  I’m not sure if it’s the baby or the butterflies, but there is definitely fluttering going on in my middle. I begin my slow descent.

  Thoughts of the first time I had done this fill my head. When I walked down the aisle to marry Greg, it didn’t feel right. I always had apprehension about it. I should have known then. But now, I know this is right. There’s no trepidation or anxiety. I love Dylan and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.

  At the bottom step my father offers his arm. I loop mine through his and he escorts me through a small crowd. Surrounded by the faces of all of the people I love…and Maria, their smiles confirm what I’m feeling; that this is right.

  The Justice of the Peace is standing at the far end of the room, Dylan next to him. He’s wearing the charcoal suit he wore to the Night Under the Stars ball. He’s very handsome. I think about how I’d like to peel him out of it. A flash of heat fills my cheeks and I look down to hide my face. Now I know what all those blushing brides are thinking about.

  My father escorts me to Dylan’s side, gives me a small peck on my left cheek, and presents my hand to him. Then he steps back next to my mother. Dylan leans over and kisses my right cheek.

  “That part is later,” the Justice of the Peace jokes.

  “Oh, sorry. I couldn’t help myself,” Dylan says. There’s laughter amongst our family and friends.

  The ceremony is brief. We recite the vows we wrote ourselves. Kyle hands us each a simple gold band, which we slip on the other’s hand. The Justice of the Peace finishes the ceremony. Then he turns toward Dylan. “Okay, now you may kiss the bride.”

  “Thank you,” Dylan says. He cups my face in his hands and moves close. My body sings. I’m eager for his lips. We connect. They’re warm and soft. My head fills with the most wonderful feeling as we kiss for the first time as husband and wife.

  Cheers fill the small living room and we move to the dining room, which is decorated with white crepe paper streamers and silk, multicolored leaves. Glasses of champagne are handed out and Kyle makes a beautiful toast to our future and good fortune. Tracy hangs on his every word. She is definitely going for that after this party.

  Everyone fills their plates with catered food and enjoys the moment as they share in our happy occasion. My parents glow as they refer to Dylan as their new son-in-law.

  Stuart mingles with guests from both sides. Maria sits in a chair, sipping champagne and staring at Dylan. Don’t pay attention to prima donna extraordinaire.

  Before long, the sun disappears into the horizon, and our guests disperse. Tracy stays to help clean up and then leaves with Kyle. Way to go, Tracy.

  After I say thank you and goodby
e to my best friend, I close the door and look for Dylan. I check every room. He’s not on the main floor. I climb the stairs and find him in the bedroom. He’s already under the blanket, presumably ready to start our honeymoon. In his hands are two glasses with sparkling amber liquid. There’s a bucket with a bottle peeking from the top.

  “I can’t have champagne you know,” I say.

  “It’s not champagne; it’s apple cider mixed with club soda.”

  “Oh. You think of everything.”

  “I try, Mrs. Townsend,” he says. I like the way that sounds.

  I walk toward the bed, but stop just before my knees touch it. I stare at my new husband. Reaching up I pull out the fancy clip that’s held my hair in all day. My blond curls fall to my shoulders. Then I place my hand behind my back, I pull the zipper to my dress down, and lean forward so that it falls over my arms. It drops to the floor revealing the blue lacy corset and garter Tracy insisted be my ‘something blue.’ Dylan’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Quickly, he puts the two glasses down on the bedside table and lifts the edge of the blanket to give me a small hint of what lies beneath. He pats the open space on the bed next to him.

  “Come here, Mrs. Townsend. I want to make love to my wife.”

  “With pleasure, Mr. Townsend.” I snuggle next to him and he cloaks me with the blanket. Light kisses caress the tops of my breasts above where the blue corset holds me in. His deft fingers work to unhook it. As he unwraps me, my hand searches under the blanket for my own prize. I find it as he gets the last hook undone.

  His mouth travels from my lips to my left breast. He takes it in his mouth and sucks. I’m tender and the sensitivity pulls down in my groin. He flicks my hardened nipple with his tongue. I’m so aroused.

  I fish for him, and when I find him, I take hold. He gasps and I feel his firmness in my hand.

  His mouth moves to the other breast and his tongue is busy again. I jerk and pull at him as I try to reel in my own excitation. His teeth graze my hardened nipple. It sends a shock wave through me. My back arches and I squeeze him. He moans and swivels his hips.