“The realtor says if all goes well, we should be ready to close on September 1.” I rally up some nerve to discuss a certain pressing issue with her.
“That’s so close,” she says excitedly.
“It is. It’s close but still far,” I say. “And that means we’ll be staying with my parents.”
“I know.” Holly picks up her glass for a gulp of wine. “It’s nice that your parents are letting us stay.”
“It is, it is. Definitely. But….” True to her word, we had stopped having sex after the mirror incident. Our beds are still in the L shape, like we’re roommates at college and not a man and woman about to become husband and wife. If we’re going to be living with my parents for another couple months, something needs to give.
“Sex. I know.” She pushes a few brunette strands behind her ear. “It’s just so awkward, and every attempt we’ve made to have actual sex has ended badly.”
“We need to keep working at it. We’ll find a way.”
“I know we do.” She gnaws at her thumbnail. “But would you be okay if we waited until after the wedding? I know it sounds silly, but at least then I wouldn’t feel so guilty.” The wedding is still three weeks away. Can I survive three weeks? “Think about how great the wedding night will be if we wait.”
If we wait three weeks, the wedding night will be over the second she unzips her dress. And I wish I could say I’m joking.
“What about the honeymoon?” I ask, remembering that I still have off the five days before our wedding.
“I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to do a honeymoon. We’re gonna save for the house.”
“Maybe not Hawaii, but we can still go somewhere. Florida? Drive up to Niagara? We should have a honeymoon.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying, but things are going to be tight with the new house, and I do not want to throw off your plan to go back to school.”
Yes, going back to school is part of a plan I hope to accomplish in the not so far off future, but even the best laid plans sometimes need to change. How much are we willing to give up?
“Holly, we’re heading into uncharted waters. Things are gonna go off course. We still need to live and enjoy life.”
“Well….” Her brown eyes light up. “I do have a surprise for you. I was going to tell you after dinner, but I guess now is as good a time as any.” She raises her shoulders and claps her hands together. “I booked the Marriott in Philly for our wedding night. It’s not far away. We can go there right after the wedding, and we can leave early enough the next day for you to make it home in time for work.”
“That’s great.” I try and control my voice. One night, a half hour away with my bride. It really isn’t that great. It’s one night in a hotel in the same state. Good, yes, but hardly great. Were we wrong to have made the offer on the house so quickly? What would have happened if we moved into her apartment instead of mine? Everything would have turned out differently. We wouldn’t be living with my parents, and we wouldn’t have made an offer on a house so soon. We’d be going on a honeymoon, and Holly wouldn’t be settling on a sheet cake from Costco for our wedding. We’d also be having a fuck load of sex. Dammit. I close my eyes, almost wishing I could magically turn back time.
“Have you started to write your vows yet?” Holly asks, before taking a sip of wine. I think she can sense my thoughts and wants to steer us onto a new topic.
“I’ve been working on them a little here and there.” Complete lie. Kent’s reminded me several times to start working on it, but so far my mind has been a complete blank on what to say.
“Yeah, me too.” She clears her throat and twirls a piece of hair around her finger. I’m not the only one telling a fib.
“How’s Jayne doing since the Nine Juan Juan incident?” I like Juan. At least, I did until I heard about and saw, thanks to Ashley, pictures of his groin inches from my fiancée’s face.
“Actually, she’s out with him right now.” Holly giggles. “Where drug dealer was a big no-no with her, stripper is surprisingly a big yes in her book.”
“Does that mean he’ll be coming to our wedding?”
“Yes. I bet he will.” Holly’s giggles come to an abrupt halt. “Your mom. She was there. And now Nine Juan Juan will be a guest at our wedding.” Her face reddens and she rubs at her temple. “I give up. It’s time for me to just accept my place as the weird little black sheep of the Daniels family.”
“If you’re weird, then that means I’m weird, too,” I say.
“Well, that confirms it, because you are definitely weird.” I’m relieved as she begins to laugh again.
“Mutual weirdness forever.” I raise my glass and we clink to our weirdness.
The waiter comes over and places Holly’s dish in front of her. “Do not let me eat all of this or my dress will never zip, and it’s the one thing I didn’t scrimp on for this wedding, thanks to my parents.” She takes a bite and groans. “So good. Seriously, take half of it off my plate right now and do not let me eat it.”
Over dinner the topic of conversation switches and she starts to discuss something about her job, but my mind stays fixed on her last comment about the dress and how it was the one thing she didn’t scrimp on. Once again I find myself wishing for a time machine. From my hasty, no-frills proposal to a now nonexistent honeymoon, nothing has gone the way it was supposed to. She deserves so much more.
How can I fix this?
“THINK ABOUT SOMETHING that she loves or that you both love together.” Patrick lifts his arms so the man at the tux shop can get a measurement.
“I did write something, tell me what you think.” I unfold a square of paper from my pocket. “This is what I have so far. Holly, when I met you, my sober heart became drunk with love. You ignited the night, sending a fireball directly to my heart. Or should I say a ball of fire directly to my heart? Which sounds better?”
Patrick turns to Kent and they exchange knowing glances. “Is he joking?” Patrick asks Kent.
“He has to be. There’s no way he’s stupid enough to think that he can make his wedding vows sound like an ad for Fireball. Unless”—he points at me—“they’re sponsoring the wedding. Are they sponsoring it?”
“You said to think about something we both love. I don’t know.” I guess this means the ones I wrote about pizza and the one where I made a Westworld reference were out, too. “I’m no good at writing vows. I suck at this.” I take the tux I’m handed and step away from them into the dressing room.
“Matty.” Patrick stands outside the dressing room door. “What is something you are really good at, something you’re known for? Facts. Just think of the facts about why you love Holly and go with that.”
“Hey, guys.” A new voice enters the mix.
“Mom and Dad are here,” Pat informs me. My father’s also getting fitted for a tux, and my mom offered to come and make sure we weren’t choosing anything inappropriate. I guess maybe she thought that without the help of a woman we’d all order orange tuxes.
A tickle forms in the back of my throat. I’ve been rehearsing in my mind the last few days ways to ask my parents for a small loan. Just enough to pay for a honeymoon, nothing extravagant, maybe enough for a quick getaway at the Falls. I looked online and we could probably do something really nice for about $1,500. It wouldn’t take me long to pay them back.
I adjust my jacket and tighten the white tie before opening the door, and when I step out, my mother gasps. Her eyes fill and she bites down on her lip, fighting back the tears.
“Matthew, look at you.” She pulls out a tissue and wipes at the escaped tears. I’m a guy in a tux, but she weeps like I expect a mother would over seeing her daughter in a bridal gown. “You look so handsome.”
“Ma, really?” Kent shrugs. “What is this? I don’t remember you getting this emotional over me in a tux.”
“Yeah, me either.” Patrick chuckles. “And I think I looked pretty good.”
“Don’t make fun of your
mother. You both looked wonderful in your tuxes. I’m just crying because, well, it’s Matthew, he’s all grown up.” My mother releases one gentle sob that she muffles into her balled-up tissue, and we all shuffle uncomfortably.
“Everyone look, Jeremy is here.” My father races over to the door to welcome him. I heard they made fast friends at my bachelor party, the one I did not attend.
Jeremy’s arrival is the perfect thing to break the tension of my mother’s tearful moment. She swipes at her eyes and shoves her tissue into her purse. Her eyes meet mine and her face stretches into a smile.
“I’m so proud of you, Matthew.” She squeezes my arm before walking away.
And... I won’t be asking for that loan.
How can I? She’s proud; I’m all grown up. Asking for a loan now will only negate those sentiments.
“Looking good.” Jeremy walks over and shakes my hand.
“Really?” I strike a pose to the left then to the right, tugging on my cuffs. “It doesn’t look bad?”
“You? Look bad? Impossible,” he teases. “If you remember, not that long ago I tried to snag you myself.”
“This guy.” My father tosses his head back and busts into a gut-wrenching laugh. “How funny is this guy?” He slaps his knee.
Jeremy grabs my upper arm and pulls me in close, lowering his voice. “I don’t think your dad understands that I’m gay. Every time I made a comment about Justin and me the other night, he’d laugh as if I was Seinfeld doing a set on stage at the Beacon.”
“Being clueless is hereditary. Where do you think I get it from?” I chuckle. “That bachelor party was probably his first time out in years. Kinda sorry I missed it.”
“No worries, my friend.” Jeremy gets an evil glint in his eye. “I’ve got that all taken care of. I heard the girls had their fun, now it’s time for us to have some fun.”
“SURPRISE,” EVERYONE SHOUTS as I enter. Even though this is not a surprise shower, it’s customary to still shout when the bride-to-be walks in.
Ashley has transformed her living room into a metallic-themed room fit for a queen. Think Versailles. Golden touches embellishing every square inch.
“Welcome to your golden shower. I think later we all get to take turns peeing on you.” Jayne grips a cup of coffee, making the snide remark out of the side of her mouth. Her newfound fondness for her dancing buddy Ashley was extremely short-lived. By the end of the limo ride home after our trip to South of the Border, they had returned to snarls and sneers, the magic spell of Fireball wearing off once the clock struck midnight.
“Come sit right here.” Ashley directs me to a tufted chair adorned with golden ribbons situated between my mother and Mrs. Daniels. My mother has little plastic wedding bells hanging from her ears this time.
“Now that she’s here, can we show Amanda our rooms and play?” Nina begs, latching herself onto my niece. Her sisters and Michelle are all ready to pounce on the fresh meat. Amanda grins, eating up the attention from the other girls.
“Go ahead.” Ashley waves them off. “But stay out of my room.”
“We know. We know,” I hear them say as they scamper up the stairs.
On the table is an array of delicious hors d'oeuvres, and while we each grab one of her fancy fine china plates to fill, Robin pops open a bottle of champagne. Ashley encourages my mother to make the toast. I hold my breath; ya never know what is gonna come out of her mouth.
“To a lifetime of love and happiness.” My mother’s toast is touching and appropriate. I exhale before sipping the fizzing bubbly.
We take our filled plates and champagne glasses to the living room sofas. Immediately, two separate groupings form, me, my mother, sister, and Jayne on one side, and Ashley, Robin, and Mrs. Daniels on the other. My mother asks me questions about the new house, and I excitedly fill her and my sister in on all the details. I find out that my sister knows the sex of the baby. I clap learning I have another niece on the way. It’s a pleasant afternoon, and I’m enjoying my time with my family, but at the same time feel a little left out, wondering what the Daniels women are discussing and giggling at that I’m missing out on.
The tension between me and my future mother-in-law only seemed to pile on more after the bachelorette party. I can’t say that I don’t understand why. Thanks to me, she spent half the night in line at the bathroom, missing the entire show except for the part where I got crotch ground by my maid-of-honor’s ex-slash-returning boyfriend.
It sucks, but I need to face the fact that I’m never going to be as comfortable or as accepted by her as Ashley and Robin are.
Mrs. Daniels turns her head and finds me staring in her direction. She offers a quick smile, and I snap my head away, mortified. My spacy thoughts had me gawking at her like a lunatic. Wonderful.
“Ma, is Aunt Holly gonna open her gifts soon?” a voice yells from the top of the stairs.
“Yeah.” Ashley glances at the clock. “Come down now, we’ll get everything ready.”
“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” I say with a hint of disbelief. I know gifts at showers are customary, but it’s the bride’s duty to act surprised and play the “aw, you shouldn’t have” act.
Lola and Stacy grunt, carrying in a big tub of tulle and gold ribbon. They place it down and I see it’s actually a wishing well. One by one they place small gifts into the handmade structure. Ashley guides me back over to the special tufted chair and has me take a seat. The coffee table in front of me gets loaded up with packages.
“What is all this?” For a small party, the pile of gifts is astonishing. I’m truly blown away. “Where do I start?”
“Michelle is going to hand you the gifts, Lola is gonna take care of trash duty, and Stacy is going to write down the gifts so you remember who everything is from. And Ella and Eva are in charge of turning the ribbons and bows into a bouquet for you.”
“Amanda is gonna help us make it,” Ella boasts proudly.
The gifts start coming toward me. Beautiful wine glasses for both red and white from my sister. A gorgeous white silk robe with a matching nightgown to wear on my wedding night from Jayne, and also a piece of lingerie so racy I don’t even lift it from the box. Stunning copper pots and pans from Robin, and fifteen stoneware place settings from Ashley—enough to serve dinner to the entire Daniels family. The wishing well is filled with useful household items, everything from dish detergent to serving utensils that each little girl takes turns claiming as their gift as I unwrap.
“I figured we would end with the moms.” Ashley retrieves one of the last two wrapped packages on the table. “Here, this one is from your mom. Open hers first.”
It’s a large box that weighs almost nothing as it’s placed on my lap. I pull away the wrap and undo the tape, opening the box. I peer inside and see a piece of paper at the bottom.
“Mom, what is this?” I question.
“Read and see.” She smiles.
I pick up the paper and open it up. It’s a letter.
Dear Holly,
Your balance at Romeo’s for your wedding has been paid in full. We hope you have a wonderful wedding day.
Love,
Mom and Dad
“Oh my God, thank you so much.” I set the big box aside and get up to walk over and hug my mom. “You didn’t have to do that. This is so generous.” Tears form in my eyes and I use my knuckle to keep them at bay, trying to squish them back in.
“We love you, and we’re so happy that we are able to help you after all.”
“Thank you, this helps so much.” I give up on my knuckle technique and let the tears fall. “This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You still have one more.” Eva shoves the last present on the table in my direction. I let go of my mom and take the present from her before returning to my special chair. “It’s from Grandma.”
I compose myself and open the final present, still reeling from the generosity of all the loved ones surrounding me. I slide a finger under the
white paper and unwrap, revealing a set of dish towels.
“Thank you,” I say, a bit stunned. I look up and see matching looks of surprise on the faces around me. Not that I needed nor expected an extravagant gift from my mother-in-law. Dish towels are a very useful gift. Very useful.
“They’re beige. I wasn’t sure what colors you would be choosing for your new house.” She looks uncomfortable, shifting in her seat. Her cheeks flush a noticeable pink hue.
“They’re perfect. Thank you,” I say, placing them in my lap. “Thank you, everyone.”
“Time for cake. Who wants coffee?” Ashley walks around taking orders while I excuse myself and go to the bathroom.
“Hey, wait up.” My sister waddles behind me, holding her big round belly. “Great gifts,” she says, lowering her voice. “But is there an issue with your mother-in-law? I mean, dish towels, that’s a bit cold.”
“There’s no problem. The dish towels are nice. Besides, we’re living with her and like she said, she doesn’t really know what colors we’re doing in the house and everything.” I keep my voice light, but the more I say it, the more it hurts. It’s confirmed. She doesn’t like me. I think she wishes I wasn’t marrying her son. I go into the bathroom and click the lock. I hit both switches, turning on the light and the fan. I need the noise to block out any sounds I might make as I open up the floodgates and let the tears flow.
I FINISH MY first beer and hand the empty glass over to the waitress, who puts down the second pint glass in front of me.
“Is this a strip club?” I have to ask because we’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, and I’m still not sure. The two of us traveled over an hour to get to this questionable location, in a town I’ve never even heard of, and entered through a back entrance to a dank little club.
“Relax.” Jeremy chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
The room is filled with small tables for two draped in red tablecloths. A stage up front is hidden behind a purple velvet curtain. The crowd around us is mixed with both men and women, young and old. His telling me to relax does nothing for me.
The Two-Night One-Night Wedding Page 13
