by Zeia Jameson
He was thrilled.
I was thrilled.
However, I think Livy was something other than thrilled.
I followed Jenna into the room where Livy was. All of our guests were surrounding her as she was lying there on the floor in a gorgeous dress.
Shit. I’m not supposed to see her before the wedding!
My mother is fanning Livy’s face. Maxwell looks up at me with much concern.
I see Livy’s eyes open and look around at everyone circling her. “What the fuck is going on?” she says. My mother laughs and kisses her on the forehead. My mother loves Livy’s matter-of-fact demeanor.
“You passed out, sweet girl. Probably just nerves. Best it happen now than when you are standing at the altar, in front of everyone. “
Livy looks at me and then her eyes lock on Maxwell.
“No. That’s not it at all.” She sits up and rests on her elbows. She points at Maxwell. “This man says he’s my granddad.”
Maxwell does not respond. Livy looks around the room and eyeballs Joe first. Then Sara. Finally, she tags me.
“I found him, Livy,” I say. “I thought it would be important to you if he was here today. And maybe even if he...walked you down the aisle. If you wanted.”
Livy sits up farther and then stands. Her eyes shift to Maxwell. He nods. Then she looks back at me. “Jeremy?” she starts. “Is this...is this for real?”
I go to her.
Fuck bad luck. That shit’s overrated.
I hug her.
“Yes. I had some friends try to find him. I knew he meant a lot to you. I went to visit him and told him all about us. All about you.”
She looks into my eyes for a long time. Then she wraps her arms around me. “Oh my God, Jeremy! This is the most amazing...” She begins to cry into my tux jacket. I never intended to make her cry. “Thank you, Jeremy.” She looks up at me with dewy eyes. “Thank you. So much.” She kisses me. I am pretty sure that is bad luck too, but everyone in the background is clapping and cheering so it can’t be all bad.
She releases me and turns to Maxwell. She wipes her eyes. “I can’t believe you are here. I never thought I’d see you again. Thank you for coming.”
Maxwell tilts his head. “Oh, Livy. I never thought I’d see you again either. After your mother ran off with you that night, I tried to find you but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t.” Livy hugs him. “I know,” she says, “I’m glad you are here.”
Everyone allows Livy and Maxwell their moment. Then my mom claps her hands and says, “Ok, now. Let’s get these two married!”
Maxwell says, “Yes! Let’s! Livy, you and I can catch up later. This is your day. Now, Jeremy suggested I walk you down the aisle. But I understand you are very close to Joe. It’s your choice, of course.”
Livy looks at Joe. She never intended on anyone walking her down the aisle. Now she has two contenders waiting on her to decide. She shifts her gaze between the two of them.
“Why not both?” Livy asks. “There is no way I could decide. I’d be honored to have you both do it. That is if you’re up for it.”
Joe nods. “‘Course, kiddo. It’s your day. Whatever you want.”
Maxwell nods as well. “It’d be my pleasure.”
***
19
Livy
The wedding
Jeremy found my grandfather. No words could ever describe my gratitude.
Jeremy is my hero. He gave me a piece of my past back. A good piece.
The ceremony was beautiful. Rosalie, Maggie and Jenna did a phenomenal job of making everything gorgeous but still simple.
I asked Jeremy if we could write our own vows. Usually, when I hear that people want to write their own vows, I consider it the dumbest idea on the planet. Just repeat after the minister and get on with it. However, as much as I pitched a fit about vows being unrealistic, I figured that if we said things from the heart, it would be less likely that we’d break the vows down the road.
Jeremy had no problem with my request.
Standing there facing Jeremy, I was up to bat first. I had words planned but the bombshell of a grandfather that Jeremy just landed on me made me rethink my whole spiel.
“Jeremy, I spent many years thinking I was happy. But you walked into my life one day and proved how wrong I was. Since the day I met you, you have shown me nothing but love, just as you promised you would. I trusted you and gave you my heart. You have sheltered it and nourished it and now my heart has completely transformed. You’ve shown me what love is and how it heals. And even up to this very day, where we promise to commit to each other for our eternity, you have shown me just how far your love can reach.” I look over at my grandfather. “You don’t have to prove anything to me anymore. You love me and I understand. I understand. I promise to love you back, each and every day. I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy, so you can always proudly call me your wife.” I say the final words looking directly in his eyes. He smiles.
“Livy, it only took you about thirty seconds to steal my heart. And you did it without even trying. Everything about you is magical. I’m not going to stand up here and profess ‘til death do us part or ask you to obey and honor me because I know that’s not what you want to hear. What I will tell you is that everything about you is unique. And everything about you, I love. All the parts. All the pieces. I will do whatever it takes to make sure I put a smile on that gorgeous face every day for the rest of my life, because that is what you deserve.”
His words were simple. He promised to make me happy. A single vow. An effortless declaration.
***
20
Jeremy
Halfway through the honeymoon
We’ve spent five days in Aruba. Mom suggested that we both go to the beach, since neither of us had ever been. A coworker of mine suggested Aruba. There was an all-inclusive resort that he took his wife to for their anniversary. He said it was magnificent.
And it was.
It was stunning.
White sand. Blue water. Tropical flowers and wildlife. Sunsets and waterfalls.
It was like nothing you could appropriately describe with words or pictures even. You had to live it first hand to truly understand the beauty.
However, my favorite part was just being with Livy. We spent most of our time lying in a hammock, limbs entwined and talking about stupid, random stuff like we have a tendency to do.
“What do think would happen if Mike Myers found himself in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?” Livy asked one afternoon while in our comfortable lounging state.
“Do you mean Mike Myers or Michael Myers?” I ask.
“I forget, which one is which.”
“Mike Myers is Shrek. Michael Myers is the dramatically disgruntled dead brother that wants to kill his sister and everyone in his path along the way.”
“Ah. Michael Myers, then.”
“Isn’t Michael Myers technically a zombie already?” I ask in response.
“Hmm. No. I think he is undead but his actions are driven by evil. The zombies are just dead and infected with some unnatural microbe that keeps them moving and upright.”
“Well if that’s the case, Michael would singlehandedly wipe out the zombie infestation. Evil always prevails.”
“Good argument.” She twists her head to look up at me. She brings her arm up and curves it around the side of my face and top of my head.
“What if...one of the zombies happened to take a chunk out of Michael? Would he turn into an infested zombie and lose his evilness or would the zombie that bit him turn evil?”
I take my hand and run it through her hair. Then I move her hair away from her neck and arch down to kiss it. Her head tilts back into my chest and she giggles slightly.
“What if…” I say, “I were to bite you on the neck right now? What would happen?”
I kiss her again and her arm around the side of my face tightens slightly. She giggles again.
“Depends,”
she exhales. I kiss her neck again and she lets out a slight moan, “are you an evil dead murderous zombie guy?”
My heart is racing as I kiss her again. And again. She reaches between us with her other hand and gently squeezes. “Nope. Definitely not dead,” she confirms.
I plant both of my feet into the sand. In one swift move, I have her on the ground, in the sand underneath me. I kiss her and she puts her hands in my hair, pulling me closer to her. My lips move from her mouth to the side of her face, to her jaw, neck and chest. My mouth suddenly cannot get enough of her and my hands are making their way beneath her bikini top and bottom.
Making love to my wife in the sand has definitely become my most favorite thing to do.
***
21
Livy
Honeymoon
Making love to Jeremy...my husband...in the sand is by far my favorite new pastime. Yes, there is a lot of aftercare involved with getting sand out of places sand should never be, but that is all totally worth it.
Jeremy and I are married, and I am happy. I never thought this day would exist. I never thought I could be this happy, let alone with a guy, let alone with a husband. I have never felt so free and uninhibited as I do in this moment on our honeymoon. We have done much of nothing besides lie around and talk and feed each other fruit.
There was also a new experience with champagne a few nights ago in the insanely huge Jacuzzi bathtub, which proved to be something we’ll have to try to make a repeat performance of once we make it back to our normal lives in civilization.
I never want to feel anything else but as happy as I feel right now.
***
22
Livy
Three years, five months and four days later...
It is hard to describe how my life is right now.
If I had to use only one word it would be abso-fucking-loutely-fantastastically-amazing.
Being married is nothing as my previously negatively clouded brain envisioned. It is seven hundred times better. I get to wake up next to a beautiful man every day. One who adores me. And I use the word adore because that is how I feel every second I am with my husband. Adored. Not smothered with ooey-gooey, sickening, gushy, touchy feely stuff all the time. But every touch, every word, every glance we exchange is filled with what I can now comfortably describe as love.
My heart is overflowing.
A year ago, Jeremy decided to branch out and open his own business. The startup was difficult for him but he worked very hard and finally achieved what his original strategy for his entire career was—to be his own boss. He was home a lot less but I knew his work gave him satisfaction and made him happy.
I continued volunteering for the shelter and a few months after Jeremy and I got married, I was asked by Macy to come on board as a paid employee to organize a program to help battered women and their children get back on their feet. The shelter administrators had some strategies in place, since I donated the money to them, but they just couldn’t get proper traction on details. So, I agreed to help. I knew I had to. Because seeing an ostensibly broken woman smile after she’s been assisted in making a step in the right direction gave me an elevated sense of purpose. Joe was right all those years ago. I was meant to do something besides tend bar. I wasn’t really changing the world, but I was helping people who had a hard time finding a way to help themselves, and I felt like I was making a difference even if on a small scale.
Although Jeremy and I both stayed very busy with our jobs, we always made sure to carve out time for each other. Often, Jeremy would come home, late at night, well after I had gone to sleep, and wake me with kisses. I never once denied his request for 2am sex. I never wanted to. Being awakened by his gentle, calloused touch and his hard-at-work-all-day scent always pleasantly raised me from even the deepest of sleeps. No event of the next day that may have required a good night’s sleep ever took priority over being caressed and held by the man I called husband.
On a number of occasions, Jeremy and I traveled. Yes, I was busy at my job when I was there, but I had the fortunate flexibility of a lump sum in my bank account and an employer who didn’t necessarily need my input eight hours a day, five days a week. I could take time off when I needed to, for however long I wanted. Macy always vocalized that the administration of the shelter felt very fortunate to have me on board to help when I could and that I should never feel any pressure or guilt when I wanted to take extended leaves of absence. My position was open ended.
On the other hand of my marriage, however, was Jeremy. He worked himself to the bone in an effort to prove that he was good at being a company owner. He took oversight on everything, nearly to the point of micromanagement. He couldn’t let anything slip through the cracks. He couldn’t fail. I took it in stride. I understood his point of view. He took a big leap and I supported his decision. He wanted his dream to come true and I was adamantly on board. I didn’t really have any dreams to follow. My dream had come true the moment I stepped on that bus when I turned eighteen. I had made it out of the hell my life had been for so many years and in the process, I had picked up a few people in my life that really mattered to me. Especially Jeremy. I never set out to find someone to spend a future of bliss with. I realize how truly blessed I am and I have no complaints with how my life unfolded. But truth be told, I missed Jeremy a great deal. He worked long hours and weekends. He was consumed. However, there was no way I was going to do something so selfish as show any signs of how much I missed him because I knew it would make him feel guilty. And I didn’t want him to feel guilty for pursuing his dream.
But we did make it work. We always made sure we ate dinner together at least twice a week, one of those nights being at home with take out and a DVD, or something we had recorded on the DVR. We took a shower together every morning, without fail, so that if nothing else we could at least talk about how our days might play out. Every Sunday, Jeremy made us breakfast. Every single Sunday.
It was always very exciting when Jeremy announced that he had to travel for work, because I always got to go with him. We hadn’t taken a true vacation since our honeymoon. Once, one of Jeremy’s clients offered him a house for the weekend on the coast. We took full advantage of the offer, and it was delightful, despite the fact that Jeremy spent most of the time wining and dining with the owner of our weekend getaway house, who conveniently had a second home just a few paces down the shoreline and opted to take up residence in that home the very same weekend. Jeremy said it was the way of the business.
The extended travels though were much more one-on-one for us, and resembled as much of a vacation as anyone could have while still working. Being the boss, there were a lot of conventions, trade shows and seminars Jeremy had to attend. That is what he told himself, anyway. He probably could have had someone else go in his stead, but I didn’t argue. I was happy to pack up and head off to New York, or Seattle, or Dallas whenever he felt his presence was necessary. I enjoyed traveling and seeing new sites. And I enjoyed mostly that I got Jeremy all to myself. Traveling seemed to be the only time Jeremy would turn work completely off. Aside from attending whatever event he was in town for, all other minutes he gave to me. Back at home, even when looking me in the face in the shower every morning, discussing our to-do lists, or sitting across from me at Sunday breakfast, enjoying the French toast, or sitting on the sofa next to me, cuddled and catching up on episodes of Breaking Bad, I could tell his mind was always in work. It was only when we were far away from our home that his focus returned back to me fully. I took and enjoyed what I could because I loved Jeremy with every molecule of my heart, and seeing him succeed at his business was part of what made me happy. Because it made Jeremy happy. It exhausted him, but it made him happy.
~~~
While Jeremy and I were cocooned in our own little married-life bubble, the world outside of it continued to turn.
Joe met a woman named Vicky when he was out shopping for fertilizer for the garden that he shouldn’t be working i
n. It gives his back fits but after I fussed at him about it, he told me to mind my own business, so I did. He was bored and needed to fill his time with something productive. Vicky was working at one of those massive do-it-yourself stores the day Joe stepped in to shop. She helped him find something he was looking for and I don’t know how she was able to strike up a conversation with him, because he does not take too kindly to talking to strangers, but she did. Now, Joe and Vicky are quite…friendly. They see each other every day. He likes to cook her dinner. He even got her a gift for her birthday. It’s pretty serious.
Sara is doing well also. It took her five months to acclimate to Connecticut. She really hated it at first, but then she got submerged into her job. So submerged, she didn’t take notice of the man working in her research group that was so very desperately trying to get her attention. His name is Craig, and Jeremy and I met him one weekend when he and Sara came to town. From Craig’s account, Sara didn’t even notice that he existed for the first two months that she worked there. Apparently, they had to do research together and she was so devoted to her part of the research that she didn’t even notice the way he watched her from across the room when they were working during the same shifts. After he realized there may be no end to Sara’s obliviousness toward him, Craig decided to strike up a conversation with her about a local deli nearby. But even then she still didn’t get the hint. He finally just came out and asked her out and she was very surprised. She accepted, however, and had a wonderful time on their first lunch date at the deli. So much so, that they went out again for an official nighttime dinner and dancing date. He seems to be a really great guy for Sara. He treats her well. They have a great deal in common. He makes her happy. They’ve officially been a couple just about as long as Jeremy and I have been married. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t put a ring on it soon.
