Our Family Wedding III: Best Man

Weddings.

The air is steaming with the sweet aroma of desperate women. I don’t know what it is about happy weddings that creates sad, lonely, ready-for-anything women. They are everywhere, and they are always trying to prove something. It’s funny that by June every year you can already spot the serial wedding-hounds. Like Daisy - Lord bless those endless legs - and her exotic frienemy, Jummai. It would be awesome to get them together in one room. That would be a party. And then there were the older women who prowled weddings looking for fresh blood to make them feel young again. Those were the ones who let loose with such abandon that would make their younger competition blush. Almost everything I know, all the tricks that have women coming back to beg for more, I learned from an older woman.

Speaking of older women, it is taking a lot of restraint not to wink at The Mother of The Bride as she sits over there primly, doing her darnedest not to look at me. But her respectable attire does not fool me one bit. There is a feisty nymph inside those respectable motherly clothes. But this is not the time or place. Not that I really want to, but I never do what I should. Or is it that I always do what I shouldn’t. For now, I put my lustful thoughts aside and turn my attention with the rest of the guests as they rise up to welcome The Bride.

The glowing, blushing bride.

My girl.

I have known her since high school when she was a sassy little know-it-all, and many years later I still feel that intense sense of protectiveness towards her. Even now, I want to snarl at every man in the chapel and growl, "Mine. She's Mine."

The same way I almost did when my best friend proudly announced to me that he was going to make her his wife. I held back then, thinking that he was baiting me into admitting what he had hinted at all these years – that I was in love with her. Besides, she was not remotely his type, and everyone knew he was still disgustingly in love with the ex-girlfriend who dumped him and fled to Europe. Wonder what happened to her... It was a huge shock when she came to me with stars in her eyes and told me she had decided to date him, saying how sooooo perfect he was. I could not believe my ears, I never imagined someone like her could be remotely interested in someone like him and I truly regretted introducing them.

She had just graduated from business school and had come for a short visit, to relax and catch up. I think deep down I was hoping that now that she was all grown up, something would blossom between us. Unfortunately, my best friend had shown up uninvited to talk about his runaway girlfriend and see if I had any new information about her. It was a funny story really: he swore to everyone that he had done nothing wrong and that he was in love with her, but her family protected her from him like he was the devil. After many weeks, the subject was tiring, and I just wanted him gone. So, I did the selfish thing and asked her to take him to a local bar while I finished up some made-up work I brought home with me. I knew she would not be impressed with him and would find an excuse to get rid of him soon enough. But something must have happened that night because a complete change came over him and he started to pursue her like crazy... and now, in less than a year, they are getting married... and I am still surprised by it all.

I look at her smiling and glowing as she floats down the aisle and I literally stop breathing. It's no secret by now that I am in love with her. I have always loved her. But when someone has so much power over you, you do everything you can not to fall into their hands. Because then they can really hurt you. The more I loved her the more distance I put between us. And now it is too late; because how do I say to the only person I have ever loved "I love you, but I slept with your mother six months ago, because I wanted you..." I feel the sting of something that feels very strangely like tears as I realize I am losing her forever and I look away. 

The mistake I make is looking sideways at my best friend.

The look in his eyes as he watches her coming down the aisle is cold, calculating, almost hateful. If I did not know him, I would say he had the look of a killer, and even though he is not looking at me I shiver a little.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses, to join this Man and this Woman together..."

Who is this man?

I have known him very well for years. And even when he has been away in school or taking care of family business we have managed to stay in touch. And I owe him my life: after my parents died and I had no one, his family took me in as one of them. They are responsible for my education, my comfortable life, everything. But they have always had their secrets. And as I look at her over his shoulder, I feel the cold hands of fear squeezing me so hard that I can hardly breathe. I cannot, will not, let her marry this stranger...

"Now, if anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace..."

I open my mouth to speak, and before the words are formed in my mind, I hear them echo throughout the chapel "I DO"

No one is as surprised as I am...

Coming up: Our Family Wedding IV (Mother of the Bride)

Our Family Wedding II: Groom

Once upon a time I had given up hope that good things could happen to me…

Really good things.

But as the doors of the chapel open up to let in the radiant sun and her, I realize that everything I want is right there at the end of the petal-covered aisle, in a dreamy dress that makes me think of a field of flowers, a hammock swaying lightly in the breeze, a lazy summer day in a French village. She is the girl of my dreams, my answer, my whole world. I watch her face light up as she walks confidently, a princess claiming her kingdom, and my heartbeat dances. It is finally happening. This woman with her beautiful mind and gorgeous body and infectious smile is about to become mine. Her smile slips for a second and I follow her gaze to the middle of the room to some guy. He’s a nobody, someone she cheated with early in our relationship. I knew, and it was over almost before it started.

It is the only time she ever cheated. I made sure.

It is good to know that I know everything about her, all her secrets, just the way it should be. I should have him escorted out after the ceremony however, just because I can. I dismiss him and turn my attention back to her. She really is beautiful, and I knew from that first day I met her that I would do anything I could to make her mine. And here we are. It feels like everything is finally going to be alright. She steps up beside me and squeezes my hand as we face the priest.

The priest smiles at us and pats our shoulders. I cringe inwardly. I do not like priests....

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God..."

God. Yeah right. For me, there has only been one reason ever to get married. God has nothing to do with it. Or maybe he does. Meeting her when I did was definitely a miracle.

My best friend had talked about his beautiful, spoiled little rich princess friend forever. At first, I thought he had a thing for her, he could never shut up about all the things she did while they were in high school, and all the time she was in her private college far away. But he insisted over and over that she was not his type, and was too quick to shove us together that first day at his apartment. Just the miracle I needed...

No one here knows that I am the Black Sheep of my family. The Fallen Heir. The disgraced son. Only my mother's pleading and my father's pride have prevented it from becoming a national scandal. I could just picture the headlines: "Oil Magnate's Son disowned and banished from Family Business" "Family Secrets: What Really Happened Abroad?"

Luckily, I have been spared the public humiliation. But as much as we present a united front to the world, my father has ensured that I will have to depend on him for as long as he lives or face the world with all that I have done, with no hope of ever having the kind of money I am accustomed to. The money that is my birthright. How I hate the sanctimonious bastard! 

Sure, I made some mistakes; I got caught up, I did some dangerous things. That's what young men do. The drugs are only for fun, an escape to free my head of the tediousness of too many years of school. At first the arrests were minor, overnight. A bar fight here, a drunken misdemeanor there. A warning phone call from the old man, a tearful, pleading visit from mother dearest. Always, the news was covered up quickly, the records quietly buried. Until that one night. I still swear he was alive when I left him on the sidewalk, bloody and whimpering. But the cops showed up later at my condo with warrants and handcuffs: Everyone had heard me threaten to kill him. Everyone saw me beat the crap out of him. No one saw him move after I left. Manslaughter. I got 7 years because my father got the best lawyers money could buy, and served 4 years for being the best-behaved inmate anyone ever met. But it was too late. He had cut me off, without him I was as good as a pauper. No education, living under his roof and taking scraps from his lofty table, a hired “son”. 

So, I had to marry a princess, someone with an empire waiting to be taken over. The first few did not work out. They always ran, saying I was too angry, too violent. And then her. The first-born daughter of one of the few men whose wealth could rival my father's. He would need a capable son-in-law, and I vowed I would be that man. It was not hard to explain away my spotty past; our family has holdings in many corners of the world and it only made sense I would be off getting a true education in business. My family would never reveal their secret, and the truth was too far-fetched for anyone who wasn't looking to imagine... It was a whirlwind romance, but who could blame us? I am a man in love. She is smitten. Her sappy parents are happy. My family is relieved and too eager to help me at my game. Everybody wins... 

"Now, if anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace..."

I scoff. Who would dare mess with me now? Until I hear the words, barely above a whisper, "I DO" 

I turn around with a murderous glare in my eyes...

Coming up: Our Family Wedding III (Best Man)

Our Family Wedding I: Bride [re]

Something Blue is really really tight...

I wiggle a little as the elastic band of the pale blue garter digs into my left thigh. Serves me right for letting my jealous little sister pick out my wedding lingerie; she must have picked a smaller size on purpose. Now I am really looking forward to the garter-toss, not just because of the magic of having my future husband touch me intimately – in front of everyone we know. That is the part of the ceremony I have looked forward to since we agreed not to be intimate a whole month before the wedding. But first, I have to get married.

The string quartet strikes the first chords of the wedding march.

There's a smile and a thumbs up from the wedding planner.

Daddy smiles proudly as he kisses my forehead and pulls the tulle veil over my eyes, and we move towards the aisle, just like we practiced.

Glide. 

We step into the doorway of the chapel hall and I scan the crowd quickly. My eyes stop on someone and the music in my head screeches to a clanging halt. I feel like I have tripped over my dress but a glance at the guests show nothing is amiss. 

Glide. 

"How DARE he show up at my wedding?!" The smirk on his face tells me he knows I am uncomfortable, and he is fine with it. This was an invitation his inner imp would never turn down. I turn my nose up inwardly and continue to move. Our fling only lasted a minute, a long long time ago, and unless he has pictures, I will be denying any claims he ever makes. Plus, he’s not the only one here. Of course, I have a Past. But, since then, I have had bigger problems to worry about. 

I smile at everyone, but I avoid making eye contact with those on the groom's side of the aisle. Something about the way they look at me. 

Everyone is smiling. Except Velda. I wish Velda would smile one day in her life. But even her ever-sour and disapproving face cannot dampen my bright mood today. 

Glide. 

I see some people dab at tears in their eyes, sweet. And I ignore the catty looks from the high society witches, all of them beneath me but invited today, just to keep the peace. 

The Best Man seems to have tears sparkling right there on his impossibly long lashes. I look away from him quickly. The flower arrangements look absolutely gorgeous, Mother sure deserves a medal. Everything looks wonderful. Everyone looks wonderful.

Finally, when I cannot take it anymore, I look at Him. My Groom. The Man of My Dreams.

He looks so handsome. And ecstatic, and only slightly… terrified?

As I step beside him, I take his hand and squeeze reassuringly, and we face the priest together.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today...." 

The words take me back to another wedding, only six months ago... I was standing in the bridal party for one of my best friends when I started to feel like I would faint, right there on the marble floors of Our Lady of Fatima. Nausea rolled over me in waves. I was so frightened that it took a minute to realize what was happening. Morning Sickness. Only it was 3pm on a sunny afternoon in front of hundreds of guests at a huge society wedding. I concentrated with all my strength to hold my smile in place and not give in to the urge to run out of the hall and find the nearest restroom. Inside I was shaking. A wedding was not the place to do anything without getting everyone's attention. I looked around at all my friends in the hall and realized I could not tell anyone what was happening to me, not with the high stakes involved. Good thing my fiancée was away on a business trip. I survived the long wedding ceremony and attempted to sneak into the bathroom two times during the exhausting reception to heave out my already empty stomach. Hours later, I escaped with wedding-planning excuses and drove to a pharmacy far out of town to purchase as many different brands of home pregnancy tests as I could find. Later that night, I sat on the bathroom floor shaking my head in disbelief as all six of them told me what I had known and ignored for weeks. 

Pregnant. And not quite sure whose it could be. 

It was a chance I could not take, not now that I had found The One. So, I did the only reasonable thing: I took an unplanned shopping trip alone, and I got rid of it. Quietly. I never told another soul. No one would ever know now...

The priest drones on. "Now, if anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace..."

I smile nervously at my husband-to be as I congratulate myself and my now-empty belly again on averting another disaster... 

Until someone breaks the silence... "I DO"

Coming up: Our Family Wedding II (Groom)

Awakening

Eerie. Quiet. Tranquil. 

A world forever changed.

Did we truly conquer you?

Lands trimmed by necessity;

Shaped for life, for being;

Dimmed, renewed, blue.

Hearts awake, again;

One heart torched to compassion anew.

We hear you in the silence,

We see you in the dawn-dew;

O what a time to be a-stirring.

We marvel in your morphing,

Applaud you in your purifying;

Would that we may learn from you

To go to sleep, and dawn again,

Awake

and new.

Locked Out

Something about those eyes looking back at me.
They say everything, and still nothing at all.
So what are you doing here?

So many places I try hard not to go.
Is this real? Are we us?
Should I stay?
What do you want?

It’s easy to think you have the key to someone.
Because it’s worked so well in the past. Yeah
I could swear. I know you.
I have tasted your fear and I have your secrets.
But still never enough.
So what are you doing here?

Shadowed hallways and pleas that choke us.
Say sorry, mean it and dammit change.
Give me time. Give us space.

It’s funny the second you closed those eyes.
I’m breathing again, living truly.
It’s not you, it’s not us.
I’m just so finally worthy.

Of me.

So what are you still doing here?