I had to smile back at him. His face was so serious. The sound of Nick coming up the steps from the garden broke through my thoughts. Standing almost on tiptoe, I kissed him quickly on the mouth. “You already do.”
* * *
The wedding day dawned fresh and bright. It looked as though we were going to avoid the rain, and Sarah would have her wedding pictures outdoors after all. We had come downstairs early, to get some breakfast before all the craziness began. But we hadn’t been sitting there long before the doorbell rang. Nick got up from the table to answer it, and came back in the room with a tallish blond man with a vaguely athletic air. It was one of his friends from work who had offered to come over and help him get ready. His large gold band seemed to be part of his somewhat fleshy hand, set there in the skin. He came in the room and caught sight of Tristan, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, reading the papers. He blinked. “I’m sure, aren’t you…” rose and died on his lips, as Nick made the introductions.
Tristan, as ever, was unflappable. “Andrew. Nice to meet you. Any friend of Nick’s is a friend of mine,” he laughed. “Nick and Sarah are nice enough to let us stay here for the big event.”
I shook his hand too, and Andrew leaned down for a quick peck on the cheek, friendly. “Happy to meet you.” I didn’t realize I was examining him until Andrew looked quizzically at me. “Or again. You look so familiar. Did we meet on that dreadful Thames boat cruise for Nick’s work do? The one where they ran out of drink, and there was a staged mutiny to make them end it early?”
Andrew laughed. “Oh god, that nightmare. What a laugh that was. We threatened the captain with everything we could think of, including all jumping off into the Thames at once. On only one side of the boat.” He let out a loud laugh and peered at me again. “Ah right, Lily. That Lily. Of course.”
I could feel Tristan tensing up, even at a distance. I looked over to him, but he was already getting up. “That Lily. Yes, absolutely. The one and only. Well, nice to meet you. We’ve got to go get ready ourselves.” I said some pleasantries to Andrew about the weather, then went over to Tristan. He was now standing by the sink, with his tea mug in his hand, asking Nick if he needed any help. Nick glanced up at me, then away, then back to Tristan. “No, no, you two go on. The cars will be here in two hours. That’s enough time, isn’t it?” He gave a wave to Andrew who was unzipping his suit bag. He turned to me and gave me a big hug. “Lily, I’m terrified. She loves me, right?”
I hugged him back. He really was nervous if he was actually touching people. It struck me that it was the first time we’d really made contact since the breakup, so many years ago. I patted him on the back. “You’re finally making an honest woman of her. She’ll only love you more. Once you get through this and don’t tread on her dress, that is.” He looked stricken. “It’s just nerves. You’ll both be fine. It’s a big day.” He looked pale. “You’re doing the best thing. You’re the right kind of nervous.” I took Tristan’s hand. “Now we’ve got to get ready. Thank god Sarah picked a simple dress, otherwise I’d make you late.” Now Nick looked somewhat sick to his stomach. “Kidding! You’ll be fine. It’s all good. If you need us, we will be upstairs.”
Nick managed to recover enough to wink at me. “I wouldn’t want to catch you…I mean disturb you.”
“Nick! On your wedding day? Aren’t there laws against that kind of thing?”
And just like that, Nick was back to his old self, all hint of emotion banished. “All the more likely you’ll be breaking them, my darling Lily. Now shoo. Andrew here is an old hand at this and has promised me between his sartorial skills and his flask, he’ll get me through this.”
Behind me, Andrew laughed. “Got it right here. Never too early. Dutch courage, isn’t that right?”
I gave Nick a kiss on the cheek. “She’s a lucky woman. Good luck today, Nick. I mean it. I’m glad the two of you found each other…for real.”
“Thanks Lily.” He shook hands with Tristan, who was a looming presence at my side. “Tristan. Thanks for being here.”
“Good luck mate.” He put his arm around me, and we headed to the narrow staircase leading to the upstairs.
I stopped at the bathroom again. “I’m just going to splash water on my face. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I’ll come get you if you take too long.” Tristan grinned. “It’s showtime.”
A few minutes later, I was going up the stairs to the very top of the house. “I’m washed and pressed, ready to get dressed,” I sang out as I opened the door to the little attic room that Tristan and I were in. Tristan was resting on the bed, completely naked except for a pair of black briefs that just grazed the tops of his hip bones. The rest left little to the imagination. It wasn’t only the inky black color of the soft fabric clinging to every turn, each shape, every line, until you weren’t sure if it all was responding under your gaze, or if it was pulsing ever so slightly with each breath he took, every vein in his body swelling and rising on every heartbeat, it was the way he inhabited his body, so casually, as if he were unaware of the effect he could have. I pulled my gaze away and followed the graceful sweep of his long legs, crossed at the ankle. His wrists were crossed just above his head, and his eyes were closed. It looked as though he were declaring himself, and his wants, simply waiting for someone to make what he wished for come true. Tristan breathed in deeply, and the smooth expanse of his torso rose and fell, the muscles stretching over his ribs, all flexing under his silken and pale skin.
I didn’t want to break the moment. I wanted to stand there and look at him, a living portrait, one that told me all I wanted to know about what I needed and where my boundaries were on this earth. I watched his stomach rise and fall, his breathing steady. I needed to disturb him though if we were to be on time. I was tempted to blow the whole thing off. We would just stay here all morning, watch the sun move across the wall if we weren’t watching each other, until evening came. We couldn’t.
“Tristan,” I whispered. “We should get dressed now.” I watched as a slight smile spread across his perfect mouth, making me wonder if he had been asleep at all, or if he had known the whole time that I was there watching him. My bet was on his constant watchfulness. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked at me.
“No.”
I stared back at him. Were we going to stay here, miss the wedding? I wondered for a moment what I would do if he wanted to. Would I miss my friend’s wedding? “No?” I asked.
“I don’t want to see you dressed. Yet. Or you me. It should be a surprise. An unveiling. Something special.” Tristan’s voice was low and deep, halfway between a command and plea.
“All right,” I said hesitantly, “but I thought that was just for the bride and groom.”
He laughed. “And why not us?” He rose from the bed slowly, and finally came and stood next to me. I wondered if I would ever stop being slightly breathless from finding him at my side, tall and solid, an undeniable presence. I watched him adjust his underwear slightly, then he playfully cupped himself in front and gave himself a slight squeeze. “Like what you see?” He winked at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring my suit and all that to the living room.” He bent down and his lips touched mine, gentle but the weight of the restraint behind it was apparent. I shut my eyes. “Ah, no. Good friends go to each other’s weddings.” He winked again. “See you down there in a bit.”
Tristan shut the door carefully behind him, and I sat down on the bed heavily. It was still warm from his body, and I wished that he were back here, his arms around me, telling me it would all be fine. It was all going to be fine. The dress was hanging in its bag, on a hook on the wall, my shoes under it. We were going to go to Sarah’s wedding, it would be nice, and no matter what, in several hours, it would all be over anyway. The supposedly biggest day of her life, and for us, a nice party and a way of sharing her happiness, or at least being part
of the experience. I took off my t-shirt and yoga pants, and began the slow transformation from normal me to special party me. Special wedding me. Tristan hadn’t wanted us to see each other until we were ready. Everything about the day felt weighty and symbolic, from his crossed wrists and exposed flesh, to the dress, to just being here. I put on my bra and panties, La Perla, a gift from Tristan that he had sworn faithfully not to rip, cream champagne lace, delicate and silken against my skin. I walked over to the window for a last look at the garden before I put on the dress. I knew I’d feel anxious the minute I had it on. The garden was deserted now, the green leaves still bright in the lengthening late summer sunlight, gentler now, though still carrying the remnants of bright blue sky clarity.
I unzipped the bag carefully and extracted the dress. It was beautiful—a simple cream-colored dress in a floating crinkle chiffon. The hem was uneven, shorter in front then dropping delicately to nearly floor length at the back. The waist was lightly cinched. It looked like something a Greek goddess might wear. I hoped I could pull it off. It had looked nice in the fitting room, and I was very grateful that Sarah hadn’t insisted on matching satin bridesmaids’ dresses. I lifted it over my head and it slunk down my body like water, the silk lining sliding over my skin, as the heavier chiffon followed. It still smelled of store, and tissue paper and boxes, and reminded me of the happier moments of my childhood, when new clothes appeared, and I could barely dare to wear them, they were so perfect and beautiful. It fell to the ground, weighted slightly to give the dress drift and body. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was beautiful. I hoped he thought so. I shut my eyes. I really wanted him to.
* * *
Tristan disappeared into the kitchen when I came downstairs. He had decided to ride to the church with Nick and Andrew. “Your car is here, Lily. You’ll go first.” Nick said, pretending to cover his eyes, while Andrew snickered at us.
Then Nick was smiling. “You look beautiful, Lily. Really.”
“Thank you.” I waved at them. “Don’t get lost.”
The two of them shook their heads, chuckling. I thought I heard a distant laugh from the kitchen. “Promise,” said Nick. “Enjoy your time of solitude. Off you go.”
And I went out to the car, getting in carefully, trying not to catch the long hem of my dress of the door. The driver shut the door behind me, and got in behind the wheel. “Congratulations miss. You look fine.”
I started to say, no, it wasn’t me, but I decided it was too complicated. “Thank you, you’re very kind,” was all I said. We pulled out, leaving me with my thoughts, and a vague worry about the car behind us. I tried to watch the scenery going by. Everything was so familiar. Once again, I wondered if I could imagine the entire trip to the edges of London in my head. I felt like I even knew where the traffic cameras were. We were heading out on the A40, and had passed the old Hoover building, before I finally closed my eyes. It was just a car trip. I opened the window. I felt a bit dizzy, but resisted the urge to ask the driver to either stop or turn around. It would all be fine. A song went through my head, and I let it play out, then wriggled, thinking suddenly I was creasing the dress. “Vain,” I said to myself. Then I went back to the song, and tried to watch the road go by.
We finally arrived at the church. There hadn’t been too much traffic. Even so, it had taken nearly two hours, but we weren’t late. Sarah had timed and arranged everything, and knew exactly how long the journey could be, and budgeted for that. So when I emerged from the car, the song still playing in my head, I felt calmer at least, knowing I had time to catch my breath. And it was a lovely place. The leaves not as green as in the height of the summer, but still hanging on, maybe even more beautiful, rich and lush, all too aware of the autumn nudging at them from around the corner. The air out here was cleaner too. I breathed it in, listening to the birdsong. I felt slightly detached from the small crowd that was gathering now in front of the church, heading in by twos, very neatly. I stood there and watched them.
I jumped when a hand rested gently on my shoulder. I spun around, movements naturally slowed down by the dress. You couldn’t move very fast in a Greek goddess ensemble, I discovered.
The very tall man in front of me was smiling at me, almost gently. “Lily. You look absolutely magnificent. Ravishing. No. You look simply beautiful, which you are.” Then as if he couldn’t resist, “Well done you.”
His suit fit him perfectly, just cut differently enough to make it clear that he wasn’t quite like the rest. “Trevor. Thank you. You look fairly spectacular yourself. Nice suit,” I nodded.
He leaned down to hug and kiss me carefully. “That designer,” he said, moving back to appraise me again. “Your L.A. party was a huge success. He might even outfit the tour. But let’s not talk shop. Where’s Tristan?”
“He decided to ride with the bridegroom. Something about not wanting to see me yet.”
Trevor’s small smile creased a bit more of his angular face. “He is a romantic, under it all.” He waved his hand as though to take away the words. “But here we are. Shall we wait together for him? I don’t believe we are sitting together in the church, so we can chat.” He raised my hand and did a small dance step away from me. “Or we can just run off together. You do look stunning, Lily. That style suits you perfectly. Come over here, on this little rise.” He took my hand and started to lead me a few paces over to a slight rise in the terrain, capped with a tree and some purple salvia. “Unless your shoes won’t do grass?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, stepping carefully next to him, my dress in my hand.
We stood there, chatting idly about London, the nice weather, and wondering what Sarah’s dress would look like, when another car pulled up. I could hear doors shutting, then a slight gasp. Someone squealed and I knew it was him.
“Fangirling at someone’s wedding. Imagine.” I laughed. “Should I hide behind you?” I asked Trevor, playfully.
“Lily. No. But turn away. Here, let’s move over here.” And we walked a few yards further into the grounds surrounding the church. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
I saw Trevor raise his hand and wave. I stared at the stitching on his suit jacket, feeling my heart beat. My stomach felt hollow. I shook my head. Silly.
Trevor leant down to me. “You can turn around now.”
And I did as I was instructed, turning very slowly. And there he was. Tristan looked magnificent, a halo of light behind his head from the afternoon sun, his dark suit making his tall figure seem like a dark slash against the green and gold background of the churchyard. But his face was caught in a smile, a look of delight that contrasted with his intense stare. He walked the five steps to me, never taking his eyes from mine. “Lily.” He took my hands in his and raised them to his mouth. “Lily. Beautiful woman.” He kissed them, then held them out to admire the dress. His eyes went back to mine, and he pressed my hands to his heart. “I’m…” he trailed off. He grinned. “I seem to be speechless.”
He finally looked up over my head. “Trevor. How are you?” Then he turned back to me. “Lily. I just need to handle something here with Trevor. I’ll see you inside, all right?” And he and Trevor exchanged a look which seemed significant, but unreadable.
Trevor took my arm, gently but firmly. “I’ll be right back, Tristan. Let me just escort Lily back over the grass.” He was silent, and I began to feel uneasy.
“Is everything ok?”
Trevor nodded. “Not to worry. Just need to sort something out.” He kissed my hand quickly, and covered the ground back to Tristan in a quarter of the time. I watched him go. Then he turned and saw me watching, and waved me on.
My stomach felt even more hollow now, and I entered the church alone. I took an order of service from one of the ushers, and was guided to a seat in the third row. I surveyed the empty place next to me. Then I followed the light from the stained glass and examined the altar. The mysterie
s of life. The power of ritual. I wasn’t immune. I looked up at the large window looming over the sanctuary. And I said a prayer, silently asking for the support to guide me through whatever was going to happen next. I shut my eyes and swallowed, and took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. Now.
Shaking my head, and fixing a smile to my face, I began inspecting the crowd. Sarah had a large family, but I’d really only met her mother a few times. I didn’t see her anywhere yet. She was probably arriving with Sarah, fussing over the dress. There was Nick, standing next to his father, waiting at the back. Everyone was nearly seated, and the doors began to close, to give the bride privacy for her entrance. Trevor and Tristan hurried through them just before they shut. Trevor had his hand on Tristan’s shoulder, a serious look on his face. Then he nodded, and they separated, Trevor to his seat. Tristan was guided by a slightly star-struck usher to his place next to me.
“All right?” I asked.
He nodded. “All sorted. Not to worry.”
Then the service started. Nick and his father walked up the aisle, and stood at the altar, both looking very serious and dignified. Then the doors opened, the wedding march began, and Sarah entered. Everyone murmured their appreciation. Her dress was very full, the skirt billowing out with each step, her tiny waist cinched in, lace and satin, delicate, molded to her body. She looked stunning. I glanced over at Nick. He had that smile on his face, halfway between admiration and panic. But Sarah made it to the front, and Nick gazed down at her, a genuine warmth suffusing his usually distant features. I was glad. This was how it was supposed to be. If you were going to do this sort of thing. Love. There it was.
The vicar led us all in a hymn. Tristan’s warm voice going over the old words and notes. I didn’t know why I was surprised, almost shocked, that he seemed to know it. I glanced up at him. He fit everywhere, he fit nowhere, special, transcending boundaries. It struck me that that’s what he did—he pulled the spiritual out of moments and made it real, so you could see it, touch it. His special skill, his calling.
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