by Julia Wolf
“We’re going to Japan if I survive the marathon,” Charlie corrected.
“Do you think I’d let a little thing like your untimely death keep me away from Japan?” I asked.
“You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Miss Eliza.”
I grabbed his hand across the table and held his gaze. “We’re going to rock this marathon, Charlie.”
He furrowed his brow. “You sure? Because I was pretty damn done after twenty miles today. I don’t know if I could have run over six-point-two more.”
“We’re in this together. When I get tired, you’ll push me. When you get tired, I’ll push you. I know as long as you’re there, I’ll be able to do it,” I said.
I’d considered signing up for a marathon for years. Even when Charlie and I signed up for this, I hadn’t really believed we’d go through with it. But now, after almost two months of training with him, I was pretty damn confident in the two of us as a team.
“I thought I was the one known for my pep talks. You have me convinced. I won’t die on marathon day and I might actually finish it.”
“That’s the spirit!” I laughed.
We walked up Main Street after dinner, swinging our intertwined hands between us. When we got to Charlie’s building, we stopped at his steps.
“Don’t even think about not coming up,” he warned.
“Are you sure? We’ve spent the entire day together. You’re going to get tired of me.”
“Eliza, are you kidding? I already told you I like to listen to you breathe. Is there any other way I can make it clear how much I want you here?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “That’s pretty clear.”
He stroked the back of my hair. “And if I do get tired of you, I’ll just kick you right out on your hot little bum.” Before I could swat at him, he squeezed me tight against him. “But that will never, ever happen.”
“Never say never,” I said.
He growled. “Never.”
I laughed, and we walked up the steps to his apartment, which was quickly feeling more
like home to me than my own apartment. And I knew that had a lot more to do with
Charlie than his big comfy bed. Although, the bed didn’t hurt at all.
Twenty-Two
I’m going to throw up.
I leaned against the bathroom counter taking deep breaths, filling my lungs with air and exhaling every bit of self-doubt I could. It wasn’t working, but there was no way I would let Rachel see what a mess I was on her wedding day. So, I was hiding while she got her hair done by one of the stylists from Salon 410.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Eliza?” Frannie said.
“Just a minute,” I called.
“Let me in. I have champagne.”
I steadied myself, sucking in another deep breath, then opened the door.
Frannie walked in and clicked the door shut behind her, then she turned and surveyed me. She must have not liked what she saw because she shook her head and sighed.
“Is it time for tough love?” she asked.
“Give it to me straight. I don’t need another pep talk. I need you to give me the business.”
She handed me the flute filled with champagne and waited as I took a long sip. Frannie stepped into my space and gripped my shoulders just hard enough to get my attention.
“You’re fucking up,” she said.
I raised a brow. “I am?”
“Yeah, you are. Rachel’s out there, a bundle of nerves, getting ready to marry her dream guy. She needs a pep talk, and not from me, because I’m not good with all that ooey-gooey stuff. She needs you, her BFF, the hopeless romantic. And you’re in here, wallowing in your own shit instead of being with her on her wedding day.”
I blinked. “That was intense.”
She laughed and pulled me into a hug. “Did it work?”
I thought about it for a long moment. Puking no longer felt imminent and my breaths were less gasping.
“I think it did. Thanks, Frananas.”
We hugged for another beat, and then she whispered, “P.S. You’re going to rock the shit out of your songs. You are awesome and amazing and talented, and I love you.”
I pulled back, tears threatening to ruin my freshly applied makeup. “Thank you, Frannie. I needed that too.”
We walked out into the living room of James’ childhood home that had been turned into a mini salon for the day. Rachel was by the window, her own champagne glass in her hand, with Anna behind her, pinning her hair. She held her hand out to me when she saw me.
“You okay?” she asked, gripping my hand in hers.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. How are you? Ready to become Mrs. Silver?”
“So ready. But why am I so nervous? I’m a thirty-two-year-old divorcee. This isn’t my first wedding. How do I convince my stomach of that?”
I looked over my shoulder. “Frannie, we need music, stat!”
“On it,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“Rachel, you’re marrying your dream guy today. Your actual, literal dreams are coming true. How many people can say that?”
She sniffled. “I don’t know. Not many?”
“No, not many. You and Joe are in my top three love stories. Your love is beautiful and inspiring, and today is just the beginning,” I said. I’d just upgraded them to the top three, because after all, it was their wedding day and I couldn’t think of too many other love stories better than marrying the guy from high school who you just couldn’t forget, even through heartbreak and distance and fourteen years apart.
“Who’s number one?” she asked.
I smiled sheepishly. “I’m…uh, saving that spot for myself.”
A grin spread across Rachel’s face and she squeezed my hand. “Oh, Eliza, this is why I love you. And I have a feeling you’re going to be adding your love story to that spot very, very soon.”
“I think so too,” I said. I smiled at Anna over Rachel’s shoulder. “This is going to be you soon too.”
Anna smoothed a hand over her very pregnant belly. “We’re engaged, but I’m not in any rush. First, I have to birth this human, then we’ll see if I still want to marry Will.”
Rachel reached behind her and squeezed Anna’s arm. “When you’re ready, I’ll do your hair and Frannie will babysit.”
Frannie looked up from her phone with wide, terrified eyes, and we all fell into a fit of giggles, which was exactly what we needed.
“I’ve got your song. Because Joe is no scrub,” Frannie sang.
Then, she turned on TLC’s “No Scrubs,” and for those four minutes, we sang every word and held our champagne glasses high in the air, and everything was right in the world.
The universe must have been smiling down on Rachel and Joe because it was an absolutely perfect late-spring day. I went out first, down the aisle of white rose petals, keeping my focus on the chuppah at the end. It was stunning, an arch made of sticks and twigs with burlap ribbon and sunflowers woven throughout.
My upright piano was off to the side. It had come from the farmhouse, and it was a well-loved instrument with a lovely sound. The top was decorated with candles in mason jars and small arrangements of colorful flowers I couldn’t even begin to name interspersed between them.
I sat down on the bench and smoothed my dress over my legs. This was really happening. Could a heart actually leap out of a chest? Because it felt like mine was going to. It’s not like I could run away since there were several grassy fields between me and my car. Not that I would run away, of course. No, no, I would never do that.
Probably.
Movement caught my eye, so I looked over my shoulder. Charlie was waving at me from the second row, and when he saw me looking, he gave me a huge cheesy grin and two thumbs up. I shook my head and blew him a discreet kiss, which he caught and mimed putting it in his mouth and chewing it up. A small laugh burst out of me just as the rabbi walked up to the chuppah. He smiled kindly at me, and I straightened up in m
y seat. Showtime.
The rabbi nodded, signaling it was time for Joe and his parents to begin their processional. I inhaled deeply, put my fingers on the keys, and played “Creep.” I kept my eyes on the piano until Joe and his parents were under the chuppah with the rabbi. I’d practiced so much, I could play this song with my eyes closed. So, I watched them hug and move to the side so Joe could wait for his bride.
I moved on to “Nothing Compares 2 U.” Frannie walked with Joe’s brother and they each went to their side of the chuppah. I knew the moment Joe saw Rachel start down the aisle. His breath hitched and his eyes were suddenly full of wonder. He didn’t take his eyes off her for her entire journey to him.
When she finally joined him under the chuppah, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. I was done playing for now, so I let the tears I had been blinking away the entire time fall.
Rachel and Joe had a traditional Jewish ceremony, one I’d seen many times, but never between two people I cared so much for. Toward the end, they both repeated the Hebrew phrase “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li” and then in English, “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.” Tears glistened on both of their cheeks, but the smiles on their faces told the true story. This was love in motion, in bright flaming technicolor.
Joe kissed his bride, and then he stepped on the glass, and we all yelled, “Mazel Tov!” That was my cue to play the final song, “You’re My Best Friend.” Why had I been so nervous? Every single person’s attention was on Rachel and Joe—even mine. It was impossible not to look at them. All my nerves were gone and left behind was a brimming heart.
Charlie met me with open arms at the end of the aisle. I walked right into them and let myself be wrapped up in his warmth.
“You were beautiful,” he said.
“You ate my kiss,” I said.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating his chest. “It was delicious.”
I stepped back and took him in. Everyday Charlie was handsome as hell, but Wedding Charlie, in a fitted, three-piece navy blue suit, was so dashing and dapper, I wanted to melt into him. So I did.
“I did it,” I said in a low, slightly trembling voice.
“I never, not for one millisecond, doubted you, Eliza.”
“I know, and that means so much. It’s the self-doubt that’s the kicker, though,” I said.
“I think you kicked self-doubt’s ass today. You fuckin’ left it in the dust,” Charlie declared.
“Well, we’ll see.” We started walking toward the tent where the reception would be held.
“That part in the ceremony, the ‘I am my beloved’s’ bit…” he started.
“Yeah?”
“I liked it. It resonated with me. It’s like I’m not yours and you’re not mine, but we’re each other’s. I really feel that.”
“Isn’t it nice? I’ve heard it said so many times, but this was the first time I’ve really believed it. Ani l’dodi v’dodi li. Even in Hebrew it’s lovely.”
“It is,” he agreed.
We entered the tent and found Frannie and James near the bar.
“Girl, my pep talk worked!” Frannie said as she hugged me.
“I think it was the tough love. God, weren’t they dreamy?” I asked.
She let out a long sigh. “The dreamiest. They make me almost believe in marriage.”
I scoffed. “It’s not like marriage is the tooth fairy! You can’t not believe in it.”
“She has a point,” rumbled James, and Frannie tugged his beard.
“See? Marriage isn’t so scary if it’s to the right person,” I said.
Charlie slid his arm around my waist. “I highly recommend not marrying someone you’ve only known for a few weeks. Only fools rush in, as they say.”
I turned to face him. “I have a hard time picturing you rushing into a relationship.”
Charlie tapped my nose. “Ah, but you only know the older, wiser me. I’ve learned the best things come to those who wait.”
“You’re quite the sweet talker over there, Charlie,” Frannie teased.
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “He’s the sweetest.”
Charlie kissed the top of my head. “Only for this lady.”
We ordered drinks and found our seats at one of the three long, rectangular tables. Charlie was doing his best to draw James out, asking him about his latest app while Frannie and I discussed the reception decor. There were flowers everywhere, mostly sunflowers, but there were also splashes of pinks and reds and greens. It was so very Rachel, and even though it was nothing like the wedding I’d planned for myself in my head since I was a little girl, I loved it all.
With little fanfare, Rachel and Joe entered the reception for their first dance. The lead singer of the band asked the guests to circle around them on the dance floor. I stood between Charlie and Frannie, our arms around each other as we swayed to the music, watching our best friend dance with her new husband. Rachel and Joe both looked so intensely happy and in love, it was almost hard to look at them straight on.
When the song ended and flowed into the next one, Charlie pulled me into his arms.
“I didn’t get a chance to dance with you last weekend,” he said.
“Well, here I am,” I said.
The song wasn’t slow, but we made our own rhythm, rocking together.
“Have I mentioned I like this dress?” he asked, spinning me, then pulling me back in.
“Oh, this old thing?” I grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket. “And this suit, why have I never seen you in a suit?”
He grabbed my hands and pressed them between us. “Ha…well, a suit wouldn’t exactly fare well when I’m painting, but I guess I could start wearing them to teach little kids how to play drums.”
I kissed him softly. “Charlie.”
He rubbed his nose on mine and hummed. “Eliza.”
I kissed him again. “Am I a rebel yet?”
“Hmmm...I think we’re still working on it. I’m going to have to take you on a lot more adventures.”
“What if I told you I think you are an adventure?” I asked, my head resting on his shoulder.
“Nah, I’m just a guy, Eliza. A guy who’s completely obsessed with you and wants to break you out of your shell. But still just a guy.”
“You’re still obsessed with me?”
“Oh, you have no idea. Seeing you play today in front of everyone, seeing your passion come out through your fingertips, drove me even deeper into my obsession with you. God, I wish everyone could see you like that.”
“You’re sweet, Charlie, but today nearly killed me. My phobia wasn’t magically cured. I just focused on Rachel and Joe instead of myself and I was able to do it.”
“I just think—” he started.
I cupped his scruffy cheek. “No, Charlie. It’s just not me. This is who I am, the girl who plays piano in a small-town music shop and in her friend’s living room. I don’t want more than that.”
He leaned into my hand and exhaled slowly. “Eliza, who you are, the girl who breaks into my shop to play piano, is more than enough. You’re perfect. I just want you to be the happiest.”
I smiled at him. “I’m so very happy. These last two months with you…”
“I know.” He kissed me tenderly. “Me too.”
Charlie and I stayed on the dance floor for a few more songs, only taking our seats because I was starting to get hangry.
Charlie held me close throughout the reception. Even while we were eating, he always had one part of his body touching mine. A leg pressed to my thigh, his arm around my shoulder, a pinkie hooked with mine under the table. And I reveled in it, never wanting to let go of him.
We were sitting with my back against his chest and his arms around me, lightly stroking my belly through my dress, watching Rachel and her mother, and Joe and his mother, dance. Charlie leaned down and kissed my temple, and he lingered there, pressing his cheek to the side of my head. I had never felt so well-loved than in that simple gesture.
I knew then I was no longer drifting, I was no longer falling, but I had landed firmly in love with Charlie. Did he love me too? I didn’t know if it really mattered. Maybe he was still falling, or maybe he’d landed. I knew he cared about me deeply, though. He was always showing me that. Being in love with Charlie was a gift to myself. I was content and at peace in his arms.
Rachel snuck up behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Love you, E.”
Tilting my head back, I smiled up at her. “Love you too, Mrs. Silver.”
“Can we take a walk for a minute? I need some air.”
After I kissed Charlie’s cheek and we dragged Frannie away from James, we picked up Laurel on the way out of the tent.
“Goats?” she asked.
“Goats,” Rachel said.
So, the four of us, in our fancy dresses and high heels, walked across the lawn to see James’ goats. We heard them mehhhing before we saw them.
“Can we pet them?” I asked.
“Hell yeah, we can. You guys want to go in with them?” Frannie asked.
Rachel looked down at her white dress. “Maybe not.”
Frannie reached into the bodice of her dress and pulled out a few quarters. “Well, in that case, I came prepared!”
“Why do you have quarters in your tits?” Laurel asked.
“Listen, I’ve been around the block with these goats a few times. They’re very fickle in their affections. But give them food and they will love you forever. Or until the next person with food comes along.” Frannie dropped a quarter into a little gumball machine, only instead of bubble gum, it was filled with goat food. She handed some to each of us and the goats nibbled it right out of our hands through the fence.
“How does it feel?” I asked Rachel.
She sighed. “I feel like I’ve been living in a dream for a year now. It’s strange how every little thing is just falling into place. And normally, I’d be waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I’m just...not. I’m in this, fully experiencing loving this man.”
