The Two-Night One-Night Wedding

by Ryan Ringbloom

  I make the mad dash back to my waiting car, thankfully managing to avoid Mrs. Daniels. Of course, I hit every red light on my way to the doctor’s office but amazingly still somehow manage to show up only eight minutes late. Panting and out of breath, I run up to the receptionist and check myself in, apologizing profusely to the woman behind the counter.

  “It’s okay, Dr. Powers was called away for an emergency, but he should be back soon.” She hands over a clipboard. “In the meantime, you can fill these out.”

  I take a seat in the waiting area and frantically begin to fill out the pages and pages of personal information. Why I rush, I have no idea because an hour goes by and the doctor still hasn’t returned from his emergency. I could have easily taken a shower and made it in plenty of time. Oh, well.

  As I wait and wait, I start to fidget in my seat. I’m so freaking itchy from my washcloth bath. I wiggle my bottom side to side, trying to find a discreet way to relieve some of the discomfort down below. That does nothing. There is only one other woman in the waiting area, and I make sure she isn’t looking before I change my wriggling to a front-to-back motion across the chair. Nothing. No relief. I look around for a bathroom, needing a private place for an intimate scratch. It’s not in the waiting area. I walk over to the desk and clear my throat.

  “Holly.” A young woman in scrubs enters the waiting area. “You can follow me.”

  I’m so relieved to finally be called in that it distracts me away from my issue at hand… well, not hand.

  My weight is recorded along with the date of my last period, and I’m handed a gown.

  “Everything off, opening to the front. The doctor will be in shortly.”

  I have a fear of being walked in on while I’m mid-undress and peel off my clothes at warp speed, then slip into the gown and take a seat on the table. As soon as I’m seated, the itch returns, but right before my hand can creep under the gown for a quick scratch, there’s a knock on the door and the doctor walks in, accompanied by the young woman who brought me in.

  “Hello, Holly,” he says, looking up from his chart. “I’m Dr. Powers, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” I say shyly, and blush because I’m naked and know what he’s about to do and what those little instruments on the metal table next to me are for.

  “What brings you here today?”

  “I was referred by Robin Daniels. I just need a routine checkup and a refill on my birth control.”

  “Okay, we can take care of that.” He takes a seat on the stool and rolls in closer. “Put your feet up here and slide down toward the end of the table.”

  God, these appointments never get easier. Never mind the fact that I have the extra fear today with my wash ’n’ go situation.

  “Just relax. You’re going to feel a little pressure.” I stare up at the ceiling and try my hardest to do as I’m told and relax, not clench like I want to. “So, you’re related to Robin?”

  “No, not yet,” I say, and wince at the pressure he promised. “Soon though. I’m marrying her husband’s brother. He’s a PA over at St. Peter’s in the ER.”

  “Matthew? Right?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Yes, I know Matthew. I see him sometimes when I do my rounds at St. Peter’s.”

  “That’s awesome.” That’s awesome. Is that what I just said? Because what I really want to say is, well this just got even more awkward. Meeting one of my fiancé’s colleagues while he examines me internally. Wonderful. Matthew never mentioned that he knew Dr. Powers. Wait… did I even tell Matthew about this appointment? Everything’s been so crazy lately. I might not have mentioned it.

  “Hmm?” The pressure subsides and I hear a piece of equipment clunk back down on the metal tray on the table. “This is interesting. Did you do this for me?”

  I lift my head up and look down by my raised feet. I can’t see the doctor, but I do see the nurse trying to maintain her professionalism by suppressing a giggle.

  “Interesting?” Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good. “Is everything okay… down there?”

  “Everything is fine. I’m just commenting on all the sparkle. Okay, scooch back and sit up for me.” He rolls away from the table and stands up to continue the examination.

  Sparkle? What is he talking about? The front of my gown is lowered and he instructs me to lift my arm.

  “Oh, I see we have more sparkle here, too.” This time I can see his face and there’s a smile that goes all the way up to his eyes. I glance down at my exposed armpit and see a trail of gold glitter.

  Oh my God. I snap my arm down and squeeze it tight against my body. The washcloth. Nina. No. I take a breath as the pieces come together in my head. The glitter. The itching….

  My vagina is covered in glitter.

  Deep breath.

  MY VAGINA IS COVERED IN GLITTER.

  It’s almost impossible to keep my composure through the rest of the exam. Mortified is an understatement. I try really hard not to be angry at the little girls who accidentally caused me to sparkle up my cooch. It wasn’t their fault. But I’m humiliated and want to blame someone.

  No tears. I will not cry.

  But something really needs to give. At the very least, our living situation needs to change. I think I’m at the point where I would go back to the powerless, damp apartment and live in it as is. A little mold never killed anyone. Did it?

  “WHAT DO YOU think? It’s nice, right? Three bedrooms, one and a half baths. The kitchen needs work and so does the deck.” I pull back the curtains, revealing some rotted planks on the wooden deck overlooking a green lawn. “But look at the yard, it’s a good size.”

  I brought Patrick with me to meet with the realtor. He’s always been really good with numbers, and I want to make sure this is actually a possibility before texting Holly to come meet me.

  “It’s a great place. Close to the hospital, not too far from us.” Patrick knocks on the wall. “It does need work, but you’d get it done over time.”

  “I know it’s small, but the price is right and the neighborhood is great. So here’s what they’re asking, and here’s what I plan on offering.” I slide a paper facedown on the counter to my brother. He laughs at the hokey action before picking up the paper and looking it over.

  “That’s a reasonable offer. How much do you plan on putting down?”

  “Twenty percent.”

  “You have enough to do that? What about your apartment?”

  “I received another call from the apartment manager. They’re pushing back the move-in date again, all the way to January 1. They offered to let us out of our lease. I was gonna look for another apartment, but then I thought maybe we could buy a house. With my savings, and between my salary and Holly’s, I think we can do it.”

  “I think you can, too.” Patrick pats me on the back. His mood these past few weeks has improved, making him much easier to be around. “The house is great, but don’t go making an offer before you get Holly’s approval. Your wedding is only a few weeks away, and the best advice I can give you is happy wife, happy life.”

  “I’m texting her now.” I press Send before shoving the phone in my back pocket. “Speaking of wives, yours almost got me into a lot of trouble the other night. She told Holly about the honeymoon situation before I had a chance to. I could’ve killed her.”

  “Yeah, well that’s Ash, you know that.” Patrick chuckles. “Funny thing is, I thought about sending your fiancée flowers for something she said.”

  “Send her flowers? What are you talking about? What did she say to you?”

  “Not to me, it’s what she said to Ashley. She suggested she put aside the children’s books and start writing something a little more grown-up. It’s really gotten Ashley’s juices all flowing, and I don’t just mean creatively. It’s like a fire has been lit inside her. Once the girls go off to bed, she turns into a vixen, acting out all the scenes she’s been typing all day. I swear to you, some mornings, I’m waking up dehyd
rated.”

  This is it. It’s finally starting to happen. My older brother just shared sex information with me. They’re starting to see me as one of them. My spine goes rigid. Be cool. Don’t fuck this up. Do something. Say something. Respond like a normal guy would. Be a normal guy. Maybe give a high five? Fist bump?

  “Sex is so awesome.” I make two fists and shake them over my head in a cheering motion.

  Patrick turns his head away from me and breathes in through his nose. “Ah, Christ,” he mutters, walking over to the back sliding door, and lets himself out.

  Welp, that was short lived.

  Guess I still got a ways to go before I can consider myself a normal guy. I shake it off and pull out my phone to see if Holly responded. I smile. She’s on her way.

  I return to the kitchen and inspect the old kitchen cabinets, trying to think of ways we can spruce them up on a tight budget. Scaling back on the wedding plans like we did worked out perfectly. If we hadn’t, buying a house so soon wouldn’t be a possibility. I’m happy with our decision for a small wedding. But then it hits me.

  If we buy this house… that means no Hawaii.

  “HOLLY, I’M MAKING coffee, would you like to join me for a cup?” Mrs. Daniels is at the bottom of the stairs waiting as I make my way down to go meet Matthew. I am so glad to have a legitimate excuse to say no. The last few times she asked me to join her for lunch or coffee I’ve made up lame excuses and run off. I know, awful. But everything with us just always feels so awkward and forced. I’ve been purposely leaving the door to our room open so that she can see the new arrangement of the beds. I want her to know that no more debauchery is going on under her roof. Not that I think having sex is wrong, it’s just between the paper-thin walls, the squeaky bed situation, and already being caught once, I’ve decided it’s better this way.

  “I’m sorry, I would but Matthew just sent me a text and asked me to meet him at some strange address.” 13 Haller Street. I have no idea where that is or why he wants me there, but I guess I’ll find out soon.

  “Oh, okay.” Mrs. Daniels smiles and dabs at her nose with a tissue. I’m not sure if she seems annoyed or relieved that I can’t join her. I grab my bag by the door and open it. “Holly, wait.” She stops me from walking out. “Are you okay with me going to your bachelorette party tomorrow night? Your friend Jayne invited me, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

  “Of course, I’m okay with it.” Not really, actually not at all, but how do I say that? I made Jayne promise to tone it down and she assured me she would. Not that I believe her. I have my fingers crossed it won’t be so bad. “I’m glad you’ll be there.” Does my voice sound as fake as this smile I have plastered on?

  “I just wanted to make sure.” Mrs. Daniels tucks the tissue in her pocket. “You’re going to be my daughter-in-law very soon, and I want you to be comfortable around us, around me.”

  Comfortable? Yeah, I’m about as comfortable as a crotch full of glitter around her. But I lie and say, “Of course I am,” in a high-pitched tone.

  “Good. I’m glad.” I can tell that she can tell I’m full of shit. “Well, have fun meeting Matthew at your strange address.”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  It’s not until I’m in the car that I hear how stupid that must have sounded, “meeting Matthew at some strange address.” She probably thinks either I made it up, or I’m meeting him at some no-tell motel for sex. Lovely.

  The radio shuts off and Jayne’s number pops up. I click the button on my steering wheel and answer.

  “Hello.”

  “He doesn’t work at the gym. I’m a stalker. I called the gym where he told me he worked and they never heard of Juan Jones. I told you it was drugs.”

  “His last name is Jones?” Juan Jones?

  “Uh, big picture, Holly. Did you not just hear me? Now I know for sure, he sells drugs.”

  “You still don’t know that. All you know is that he lied about where he works. Besides, you broke up with him. Why are you stalking him?”

  “Because I just want to know.”

  “It’s because you still like him. Why you don’t you just try talking to him again?”

  “No, I don’t still like him.” She huffs. “I just need to get over it, and get some closure. That’s all. Hopefully tomorrow night I’ll meet someone. Someone much better than that lying jackass.”

  Oh, I’m glad she brought that up. “Listen, about tomorrow night. Remember, you promised me no penises, and I just want to quadruple check because my mother-in-law is going to be there. No. Penises. Right?”

  “Yes, Holly. No penises.” You can almost hear the eye roll Jayne is giving me. “I have a theme all set, and I promise you the theme is not penises.”

  “You promise?” I see the sign for Haller Street and make a left. It’s a development of small houses. Why am I meeting him here?

  “Yes, bitch, I promise. And make sure you dress hot tomorrow night. We are gonna be on a mission to find me a man.”

  “Fine, yes, I will be dressed to impress and ready to go as long you swear, no pen—”

  “Penises. Yes. Got it. Jesus Christ, you act like your mother-in-law never saw a fucking cock before. Newsflash, she has a husband and three sons, that’s four right there.”

  “Goodbye, Jayne.” I disconnect. I am gonna need a muzzle for her mouth tomorrow night. Maybe she’ll just offend everyone right away and they’ll all go home and the night’ll be over before it starts. Yeah, right, like I’d really be that lucky.

  I park behind Matthew’s car on the street and get out. Number thirteen is a cute ranch-style home. It’s small, with tan siding, black shutters, and neatly trimmed hedges under a large bay window. I walk up the narrow walkway and knock on the door. A woman in a navy blue dress with a yellow name tag pinned to her chest answers.

  “You must be Holly, come in.” She stretches out her hand. “I’m Deonne Harper. Matthew and Patrick are in the master, it’s down the hall on the right.” She points to the hallway and I walk down the worn gray carpeting toward the bedrooms.

  I hear Matthew’s voice, and he steps into the hall before I reach the room.

  “Holly! You’re here. What do you think?” His eyes search mine and read the confusion that must be written all over my face. “This house. It’s for sale,” he supplies.

  “What?” My head nearly swivels off my neck as I take in the surroundings again, paying closer attention to the details. “Are you saying? Is this… our house?”

  “Well, not officially. I wanted you to see it first, but yes, if you like it, I think it can be.”

  “Really?” I reach a hand up to my heart then down to my stomach, I’m not sure which one is causing me more of an issue at the moment. My heart beats wildly, and my stomach flips with excitement. A house of our own. Is this for real? I reach for Matthew’s hand.

  “It’s a fixer-upper and we’d have to cut back on things.” His expression darkens and he gulps. “Things like Hawaii.”

  Hawaii versus a house. It’s no contest. A week versus the rest of our lives.

  Our very own home. This is like a dream.

  I throw my arms around his neck and plant a large kiss on his lips. “Oh my God. A house of our own. I love you, Matthew.” He lifts me off my feet, a grin stretching across his gorgeous face. “Show me, show me everything.”

  “FLOWERS AND CAKE are done.” I clamp the flat iron over a long strand of hair and smooth. “Ask me how much?”

  Matthew stands in his scrubs, half asleep leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom. “Five hundred?” he guesses.

  “Three hundred,” I say proudly. I admire my straightened brown strand and start smoothing the next one. “If this comes out good, I can do my own hair on the wedding day and save even more money.”

  “Holly, you don’t have to do that. We’ve already cut so many corners for this wedding. I know you’re excited about the house, so am I, but I don’t want you to sacrifice on everything. This i
s our wedding day.”

  “Actually, it was $355. I had to pay for the membership. I got the cake and flowers at Costco.”

  His expression is pained. “When you see Ashley later, please don’t tell her. I vaguely remember Robin doing something like that and Ashley going nuts.”

  “Robin is the one who suggested it.” My hair looks too flat now; I need something to give it a little dimension. I grab the can of hairspray, bend forward, and lightly spray at the flipped hair. “And she already warned me not to tell Ashley.” I flip back up and pat my poufy hair into a happy medium.

  “Are you excited for tonight?” he asks.

  “I’m going out with Ashley, Robin, and your mom for a bachelorette party hosted by Jayne. Excited? No. Scared shitless? Yes. She promised me it would be tame, but I don’t trust her at all. Do you know anything?” I grab a bottle of perfume, spray, step into the mist, and repeat.

  “No.” Matthew chuckles, stepping into the bathroom. He lifts his shirt off, opens the shower door, and reaches in to start running the water. “But is it wrong if I hope whatever it is gets you drunk, horned up, and pushing the beds together when you get in?”

  My skin warms at the sight of his bare chest. His body is a chiseled work of art, perfect in every way. It’s been way too long since we’ve done the dirty, and I’m thankful to have plans because if I didn’t I think I’d risk it and strip off my clothes and join my sexy fiancé for a nice warm soapy shower.

  “Matthew, I’m almost done. Just wait, don’t get undressed yet.” I’m salivating so much, I spit when I talk. It takes two swallows to get all the moisture down.

  Matthew’s hazel eyes look me up and down through a suspicious squint before he removes his glasses and places them down. “You’re horny.”

  “No.” I take two more loud gulps and step backwards.

  “Yes, you are. This little standoff until marriage thing you started is getting to you isn’t it?” He stretches out his muscular arm and shuts the bathroom door.