Where It All Began

by Lorana Hoopes

  It was nice having my mom around to talk to. We hadn’t really spoken much since college, though I couldn’t really remember why. After getting her up to date, we decided to call it a night.

  The next day, I took my parents around the town. There wasn’t a lot to see in Mesquite, but we found some antique shops my mother loved, and some trails that kept my dad’s interest for a time. We stopped for barbeque as a late lunch before heading back to the apartment.

  Once inside, my parents each got out a book to read, while I went to take a shower to freshen up. As I pulled on a soft yellow dress, my throat grew dry at the prospect of meeting Henry’s family. Because he rarely spoke of them, all sorts of images played in my imagination.

  Promptly at six pm, the doorbell rang. I gave myself one last glance and shuffled to the door. Henry stood looking uncharacteristically stiff in a blue button down shirt. Behind him was an older man who was clearly his father as the resemblance ran deep. He was also dressed smartly in a blue dress shirt and slacks. Henry’s brother, a younger version of himself, stood to the left of his father, but it was the woman who stood out to me. With her short hair, suit, and severe expression she seemed such a contrast to Henry.

  “Come in,” I smiled, opening the door wide to allow passage. The group shuffled in, and I wiped my sweaty palms down my dress as I shut the door behind them. Introductions were made around the room, and then a tense silence descended. Sylvia, Henry’s mother, checked her watch, while David, his father, and Anthony, his brother, dug their shoes into the carpet. My eyes darted to Henry for some clue as to what to do.

  “Well, I’m hungry,” Henry said, breaking the tension. “Who’s hungry and wants to join me?”

  “I’m famished,” my mother spoke up, and the tension fizzled for now.

  “I’d offer to make something, but my kitchen table barely seats four, and I don’t have extra chairs, so . . . out?” I suggested.

  Everyone agreed, and since neither of us had a car large enough to hold seven people, we decided to take two cars to the restaurant. Henry and his family piled in his car, while my mother and father came with me.

  We drove in silence, until we pulled into the parking lot of a fairly upscale restaurant. I wrinkled my forehead hoping Henry knew what he was doing because I didn’t have the money to afford dinner here.

  Henry spoke to the hostess, and after a short wait, we were shown to a table. Henry held out my chair as normal, but before I could sit down, his mother spoke up.

  “Stop doing that. Is she broken? She can get her own chair.”

  All conversation stopped as a silence fell on the group. Henry’s father stared down at his feet. I glanced up at Henry in surprise, but he mirrored his father’s embarrassment. My own father stiffened, the strain of holding his tongue evident on his face. My mother put a hand on his arm, and he relaxed, but his eyes remained on me to see what I would do.

  “It’s fine, ma’am. I actually like it,” I smiled.

  Henry’s mother scowled. “It’s women like you who will set us back years.”

  “I’m sorry?” My eyebrows raised at the tone. How dare this woman who didn’t even know me, attack me?

  “Equal rights. You know women get paid less than men. We have to prove we are equal and not pulling out your own chair shows weakness.” Sylvia pulled her own chair out and sat down, not even glancing at her husband.

  My face flamed, and a fire licked up my belly. I splayed my palms on the table to control their shaking. “I happen to think that it was just a nice gesture. I don’t think Henry was trying to say I was weaker. I thought,” I said pointedly, “that he learned such manners from you.”

  Sylvia scoffed. “Not from me, my dear. I never let him do such things for me. I tried my best to instill in my children that men and women are equal and deserve the same rights.”

  “Yeah, and look what that got us,” Anthony spoke up softly.

  Henry shot him a look, and Anthony dropped his eyes to the table. I considered one brother then the next; what did that mean?

  Another tense silence descended. Whatever implication was in Anthony’s words had at least quieted Sylvia. She surveyed her menu, silently, as did Henry’s father. Henry sat down next to me, and I turned questioning eyes on him, but he shook his head slightly to indicate that now was not the time.

  “Well, I think I’ll be having the steak,” my mother spoke up, trying to change the mood.

  “Yes, me too,” my father added, and while the topic lightened to food and drink, the damage was done. Sylvia and I shared a terse silence the rest of the evening. When I wasn’t deciding if I wanted this woman to like me, I was trying to decipher what secret the brothers were sharing and if it would impact our wedding and our future.

  When dinner ended, the waiter brought the check. “Will one check be fine or would you like me to split it up?” he asked, looking at each of the men.

  “Actually, I’ll take that,” Sylvia said, snatching the bill. While I was grateful – as I didn’t have the money to cover it – I wasn’t sure if Sylvia was doing it to show off her money or her “equality.” Regardless, I was relieved I wouldn’t have to return in the same car with her. After hugging Henry goodnight and promising to meet up later, I climbed in the car with my parents.

  “Well, they seem lovely,” my mother said with a fake brightness. My father and I both whirled to face her.

  “Sylvia seems horrible,” I sighed. “What am I marrying into?”

  “Perhaps you should have found out more about them before accepting the proposal,” my father suggested softly.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, my mother interrupted. “The thing to remember is that you are marrying Henry and not his mother.”

  “But she’s bound to be a part of our life.” I backed the car up and began the short drive home.

  “I’m curious how Henry turned out so chivalrous,” my father murmured, “Did he serve in the military?”

  “Yes, a short stint in the Air Force,” I replied, “but I think a lot of his behavior has to do with God. I’ve been attending church with him, and most men there are very respectful of women, just like Henry.”

  “Tell us more,” my father said, and I found myself kind of excited as I rattled on about the church and all that I had learned. I still didn’t believe God would forgive me, but maybe if I enlightened my parents, they could be saved. Telling them about Jesus gave me a sense of peace as well, and by the time we reached the apartment, I had almost forgotten the tense evening.

  The Joining of Two Lives

  The next few days were filled with so much last minute preparation that I never did get to ask Henry about the secret with his brother. Surely it couldn’t be that important or Henry would have told me, so I let it go a little longer.

  Though the rehearsal dinner had been a little stressful, there had been so much going on that Sylvia didn’t have time to be overly assertive, and before I knew it, the morning of my wedding day dawned.

  I woke with butterflies zooming around my stomach. After showering and dressing, I wandered into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

  “Are you ready?” my mother asked, turning from the coffee pot and holding a mug out to me.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be.”

  “Don’t worry, I was too.” She sat down at the table, and I took a seat across from her and listened as she replayed her wedding day. Though I had heard some of the story before, I had never listened as intently as I did now. I just wanted some consolation that I wasn’t crazy; that butterflies were okay; and that I wasn’t making a mistake.

  My father came in a few minutes later, but after pouring his cup and staring at me briefly, he left the room.

  “What’s up with him?” I asked my mother.

  “He thinks he’s losing a daughter,” she smiled and took a sip of her drink, “and it’s hit him kind of hard.” I sat back in the chair and crossed my arms. My father had never show
n much emotion, so I certainly hadn’t expected my impending nuptials to affect him. “You’re his baby,” she continued. “Though he hasn’t always shown it, he really loves you.”

  “Huh, I never would have thought.” My mother tossed me a wink, and we finished our coffee in silence.

  A few hours later, we parked in the church parking lot, and my mother helped me pull the dresses and supplies out of the trunk. My father grabbed his suit and pulled me in for a fierce hug. As I drew back, my eyebrow raised at him. I couldn’t remember the last time my father had hugged me.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said, emotion coloring his voice. He sniffed loudly, drew his shoulders back, and walked off to join the other men getting ready on the other side of the church.

  I shook my head as my mother and I entered the church through a side door. A white door on the left sported a handwritten sign: “Bride’s Room” and we entered. The room held a few chairs, a small table, a full length mirror, and a clothing rack. I hung the wedding dress on the rack and set my shoes down in a chair near the mirror. Raquel flew in a few minutes later.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she threw her purse in the corner. “Greg decided he had to do some last minute rounds. He does this all the time; I don’t know if we’re going to make it. He’s always working so long.” She began unzipping her garment bag, seemingly unaware of my mother and I staring at her. “What?” she asked when she finally noticed the silence in the room. Suddenly her face shifted, and she clasped her hand to her mouth, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to jinx you. You guys will be wonderful together.”

  I sunk down on the chair and dropped my head in my hands. “What if I’m wrong? What if I shouldn’t be marrying him?”

  Raquel came over and touched my shoulder, “Hey, from the time you guys met, you have seemed perfect together. He treats you like a princess. I can’t imagine you finding anything better.”

  I stared up at my friend who evenly returned the gaze. Something in her serious expression calmed my nerves. “Okay, you’re right,” I said, pushing myself up. “Let’s get ready for a wedding.”

  Raquel smiled and hugged me and then turned to slip her dress on. I pulled out the white satin dress and took a deep breath. This was really happening.

  After removing my street clothes, I slipped on the milky satin and then sat to put on my makeup. Raquel, in her dark blue dress, came over and helped pull my hair up and attach the veil. My mother also had on a dark blue dress with a maroon flower pinned on.

  When the makeup was completed and the hair was in place, I stood to admire the final look in the mirror. Though the dress was simple, the white stood out against my caramel skin. The butterflies begun another loop around my stomach, and my heart pounded a double step in my chest.

  “Are you ready?” my mother asked, lightly touching my shoulder.

  I nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” I picked up the bouquets I had brought in and handed Raquel’s to her. While there weren’t very many blue flowers, we had added what we could and then filled the bouquets with the deepest red roses and whitest baby’s breath we could find. We exited the door and turned right towards the small sanctuary.

  The doors were closed, but my father stood outside them, picking lint from his tux and shifting his weight from side to side. He pulled me in for another hug and sniffled in my ear. I patted him awkwardly on the back, not sure what else to do for a man who had never shown much emotion. The doors opened slightly, and Greg and Anthony slipped out.

  “Are you ready ma’am?” Greg asked, holding his arm out to my mother. She nodded and squeezed my hand before placing it on Greg’s arm. My father and I stepped to the side, out of sight, and he opened the door and walked my mother down the aisle. The music coming from the sanctuary hit home again how real this was, and my throat dried up. A minute later, Anthony took Raquel’s arm, and they disappeared inside as well. The music changed, and I signaled to my father that it was our turn.

  “You look beautiful,” my father said in a shaky voice, “and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that enough.”

  His words brought tears to my eyes which I quickly brushed away. “Thank you, daddy. Are you ready?”

  He nodded, and I hooked my right arm in his. As we stepped onto the maroon carpet, my eyes sought Henry who stood at the front with Anthony and the pastor. I barely registered the friends sitting on either side of the aisle as my heart sped up in my chest. The room grew quiet, but the sound of the beating of my heart thundered in my ears.

  “You look like a princess,” Henry whispered, taking my hand as I stopped next to him at the end of the aisle in the small Baptist church.

  I fidgeted, touching the simple white dress, “It’s not much, but I didn’t want to start our marriage in debt.”

  “Better than this maroon tie,” he said as he winked and leaned his head in close to mine.

  “It looks handsome on you, and besides it was the compromise for German chocolate cake, remember?”

  The pastor cleared his throat to get our attention. Heat flamed up my neck and ears. Henry’s face colored as well. We turned to face the pastor.

  “Dearly beloved,” he began, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Henry Dobbs and Sandra Baker. They have made a commitment to each other and stand before us today to publicly declare that commitment. Henry James Dobbs, do you take Sandra Elaine Baker as your wife, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

  “I do,” he said and squeezed my hand.

  “Sandra Elaine Baker, do you take Henry James Dobbs as your husband, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

  “I do,” I breathed softly.

  “Do you have the rings?”

  Anthony pulled the rings from his tuxedo pocket and handed them to Henry.

  “Repeat after me, Henry. With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Henry repeated the words and slid the ring on my finger. Then he handed the other ring to me. I too repeated the words and slid the ring on his finger.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Henry leaned in and touched my lips with his own. It felt different this time, more real, more serious, and my arms wound around his neck. I had completely forgotten about the people in the room until applause and cheering erupted. My face flamed as I pulled back. Henry must have felt the same pull of desire I did because the need was visible in his eyes. I smiled softly and took a calming breath. We turned to face the crowd, and then hand-in-hand, we rushed down the aisle and out of the sanctuary.

  I pulled him towards the room I had changed in. As the door shut behind us, Henry pushed me against the wall. Passion enflamed his kisses, and his hands roved up the sides of my waist. My breath grew ragged as desire flooded my body. Heat radiated through me, and then a coldness descended. I opened my eyes to see Henry pulled back, panting.

  “We should wait until after the reception,” he said in a halting cadence.

  My body screamed “no” but the thought of all our guests waiting for us flooded my mind. Even if we were quick, we would be longer than normal, and everyone would know what we had been doing. The dampening effect was immediate. Though the desire remained, the intense need lessened, and I nodded.

  “Besides,” he added, “I don’t want my first time rushed and in a church.”

  A blush crawled across my face at the thought. “You’re right.” I smoothed my dress as Henry readjusted his tux, and we exited the room. Holding hands, we walked down the hall to the kitchen area where the reception had been set up.

  A small kitchen attached to a large open room, where tables had been set up and covered with maroon and blue table cloths. As we entered the room, a cheer erupted. Friends gathered around us to issue congratulations. After a plethora of hugs and handshakes, we made our way to the center table. A buffet had been set up with sandwiches an
d fruit, and though I was hungry, I could barely eat.

  As I sat at the table, nibbling on a sandwich, I examined the room. Beautiful flower arrangements in reds, blues, and whites sat atop the tables, and white Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, creating a soft, romantic glow. I couldn’t believe the transformation. A glance at Henry sent another blush heating across my face. The thought of what was coming after the reception kept jumping to my mind.

  When most of the guests had finished eating, the music began. Henry took my hand and led me to the floor. As I gazed into his eyes, the rest of the room faded from sight, and for a moment, it was just the two of us. When that song ended, my father stepped up and took my hand. His eyes were still red and watery, and I wished I knew the words to say to him. He smiled down at me as we swayed to the music. Across the floor, Henry danced with his mother, who, for the moment at least, appeared happy. When the song ended, I headed back to the table, but Anthony met me before I got there and asked for a turn. Agreeing, I returned to the floor with him.

  “You’ve really made Henry happy,” he said. “I haven’t seen him this happy since Camilla died.”

  I turned my head up at him, my brow wrinkled. “Who’s Camilla?”

  “Our sister. Didn’t Henry tell you?”

  I shook my head and sneaked a glance at Henry. “What happened?”

  He sucked in his breath, and his eyes darted around. “I’m not sure I should say if Henry didn’t tell you, but she died five years ago. Henry took it hard. That’s when he moved away and found religion. I guess it helped him heal.”

  “So the rest of your family aren’t believers?” I asked.

  Anthony shook his head. “I doubt mom ever would; she considers it a weakness, but I’ve thought about it, and I think dad has. It sure seems to give Henry something, a peace or something, you know?”

  I nodded; I knew exactly about that peace as I had seen it in him myself. Unsure of what to say next, I pondered how Henry could have failed to tell me about his sister. Was that why his demeanor changed whenever he discussed his family? The music ended, and, after thanking Anthony, I returned to Henry, more questions than ever coursing through my mind. Time seemed to crawl from that point on, but finally the end of the reception neared.