Matt broke the traditional glass to conclude the service. Delighted that I’d remained conscious for the entire ceremony, he tried to sweep me up into a long and passionate kiss. But he couldn’t manage to coax, persuade or even pry my lips apart. They were firmly shut, worse than a bad case of lockjaw.
“We did it,” he said with a sheepish smile on his face. I stared back at him in shock. I wouldn’t move at first, so he practically carried me back down the aisle.
“There,” Matt said, still holding me up. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
And then I fainted into his arms.
When I came to, I whispered, “I just dreamt that we got married.”
“It wasn’t a dream,” Matt said softly.
“Did I faint?”
“Yes. You must have been overcome…with happiness.”
“I need to sit down,” I said woodenly, pleading, “Will you please get me some water?”
Matt helped me into a metal folding chair and walked over to the water pitcher to fill an empty paper cup. He wasn’t worried about me bolting now; he could see that my legs couldn’t even support my weight, which by this time in my pregnancy was considerable.
“Can you at least pretend you’re happy?” Matt frowned. “We have to go back out there in a minute and thank everyone for coming on such short notice.”
I was slowly regaining my color. The liquid felt cool going down.
“First, we’re going to have to establish some ground rules,” I insisted, still shaken.
“What kind of ground rules?”
“Sleeping arrangements. You know I was forced into this marriage.”
“I love you, Julie. I wanted to marry you. I will love the baby, too. And I’ll protect you.”
“I didn’t need you to ride to my rescue. I’m perfectly capable of providing for my baby and myself. I don’t need anything from you.”
“I’m your husband now. You and the baby are my responsibility, part of my life.”
“And don’t think you can lay a hand on me, ever, unless I give you permission,” I warned.
“I made a commitment to you. I’m taking those vows very seriously. This is a real marriage, Julie, in every sense of the word, and I won’t tolerate anything less from you. I think I’ve been very patient.”
“We’ll just see about that.”
Matt traced my lips deliberately with his thumb.
“I know you care for me. I think you could love me. I’ve wanted you for so long, Julie. Let’s go home. I think we’ve waited long enough to consummate this marriage.”
I shivered when Matt put his arm around me.
“We can’t just leave our guests,” I said. “As you pointed out, there’s a hall full of people waiting out there at the reception. Let’s worry about consummation later, much later.”
We were greeted by a fanfare. There were people everywhere waiting to celebrate our first moment as man and wife. My first instinct as a bride was to run away and hide. I hadn’t seen Manny during the ceremony. I noticed him now coming toward us.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Yeah, Gellar,” Matt snarled. “I didn’t invite you.”
“Had to congratulate the bride, kiss the bride,” he said, grabbing me and placing his lips firmly on mine until he forced them open, trying to weave his invisible sexual spell. Trying to make me respond to him.
He was hanging on to me to keep himself upright.
“You’ve been drinking.” I was horrified at his behavior.
“Only way I could get through this,” he said.
“I’m truly sorry,” I said. “You should go.” Matt pulled me away from his arms.
“I heard you and DoorMatt weren’t taking a honeymoon,” Manny said.
“Where did you hear that?” Matt demanded.
Manny smirked and I blushed. “So it’s true.”
Manny’s face turned angry when he looked at my new husband and the way his arm wound possessively around my shoulders, the way his thumb stroked my cheek, the way he forced me to lean into him as if I would faint if he weren’t standing there to support me.
He walked away toward his sister.
“Look at the way he’s touching her,” Manny growled to Estrellita, loud enough for me and everyone else in the room to hear. “He can’t keep his damn hands off her.”
Estrellita tried to sooth him. “She will be devoted to him now. They are married, after all.”
Manny looked like he was in pain.
Mackie was already drinking heavily, a habit she had picked up since she and Little Jon broke up. I walked over to where my friend was sitting. I knew why Mackie was so unhappy. It was only a month before her wedding. She and Jon were still fighting about the weekend he’d spent with the curvaceous blonde waitress at his pledge class reunion. After he paraded her around at the cocktail party in front of his fraternity brothers, he was reportedly missing in action for the remainder of the weekend, as they were presumably occupied in Little Jon’s hotel room. At least that was the story Nita Weinstein had spread. Little Jon denied it, but Mackie refused to forgive him.
“Little Jon is over there by the bar. He wants me to take him back. He denied the whole thing. What a crock. Julie, what am I going to do? We had so many plans.”
“You’re going to take him back. You love him and you two are perfect for each other. I can’t believe you’d give any credence to anything the White Witch has to say. She’s just using her Black Magic to stir the pot. You’re going to go through with the wedding. I’m going to be your matron of honor, as planned, and you’re going to walk down the aisle and live happily ever after with the man of your dreams.”
“Like you did?” Mackie slurred the words.
“Not exactly. This was a forced march down the aisle.”
“What’s the difference how it happened? It’s what you needed.”
“Not what I wanted.”
“You could have had the man you wanted. You were too stubborn.”
“Not at my wedding. Don’t do this to me.”
I noticed Nita Weinstein out of the corner of my eye. “Dammit, Mackie, what is she doing here?”
“Well someone must have invited Manny, and I guess he brought her as his date.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with this guest list. It was all my mother’s and Matt’s doing. And Matt knew nothing about it.”
Nita wore her white-blond hair down to her shoulders, like she was on her way to a virgin sacrifice where she was the guest of honor. I blinked when I realized what she was wearing.
“Tell me that’s not a wedding gown,” I whispered, aghast, to Mackie.
“She always wears white,” Mackie pointed out, “and I guess she’s celebrating.”
“That witch needs a major wardrobe readjustment,” I lamented.
“What she needs is a best friend and a full-length mirror.”
Nita was trying to corner Manny now and round him up in her dominating lasso. She sounded as if she were braying something in her annoying, nasal twang. Every opportunity he got, Manny glanced over in my direction and shrugged his shoulders helplessly as if to indicate he was trapped. But that was none of my concern now. He and Nita could have each other. He was out of my life forever.
When Manny finally managed to get away and walk over to the bar, Nita sashayed over to where Mackie and I were standing.
“Congratulations,” Nita barked. “Next y’all will be congratulating me. Now that you’re married, maybe you’ll keep your hands off my boyfriend. I can make him happy, you know. He’ll get over you. I’ll make sure of it.”
I walked over to the bar to order an orange juice and confront Manny about Nita’s nasty remarks. He brushed up against me. “I’ll have an amaretto,” he said to the bartender, holding my eyes meaningfully. As I reached for my glass I found my hands trembling and my knees about to buckle.
“Did you have to invite her?” I implored. “She s
aid the most hateful things to me.”
“I know. Just ignore her,” Manny said. “She’s a loose cannon. I owe her father a lot. You understand, don’t you? I had to invite her.”
“To my wedding?” I hurried away before he could see my tears.
Manny’s parents were seated a safe distance from Nita. There was no love lost between Elena Gellar and Nita Weinstein. The two women would never get along. Elena was from Havana and Nita from Savannah, worlds apart.
Manny was conversing with the DJ. When “Chances Are” started playing, Manny held my eyes from across the room and walked over as if in a trance. Right in front of Matt and Nita, he reached for my hand and pulled me to the dance floor for the sentimental slow song.
We were lost in the dance and in each other. When the song was through, he leaned over to kiss me. It took everything I had not to respond to him, and then we both snapped out of the spell and remembered where we were.
“I guess this is really goodbye, then, Jewels,” Manny said with finality and regret.
“You have to let me go,” I pleaded.
Visibly shaken, he led me back to my seat and looked deeply into my eyes. That look said everything. It spoke of love. I was beginning to believe that maybe he did love me, had always loved me. But that chapter of my life was over.
Tears were streaming down Elena Gellar’s face, bittersweet tears spilled over what might have been.
“It’s obvious,” Elena whispered to her husband when she thought I couldn’t hear. “Look at the way he looks at her, Sam. He’s in love with her.”
“He always has been,” Sam agreed. “He just can’t see it.”
The White Witch hadn’t missed any of the spectacle. She fairly flew over to the head table, jaw clenched, eyes like daggers as she fixed her gaze on me and addressed Mackie.
“That was quite a performance,” she cackled.
“That’s not a performance,” Mackie assured her. “Anyone can see the way they feel about each other.”
Matt came over to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, ashamed of the way I had behaved.
“It’s okay, because you’re mine now,” he said, gathering me protectively into his arms as he dropped a tender kiss on my forehead.
His generous show of forgiveness deserved a special gesture. I felt the baby move and placed Matt’s hand on my belly so he could feel the signs of life for the first time.
“God, Julie, he’s ours. It’s amazing. I can feel him.”
“Or her.” I laughed lightly. “Do you care if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Not really,” he said with certainty. “As long as the baby needs me.”
“We’ll both need you,” I said, looking into his eyes. And I’ll try very hard to love you.
“If I haven’t said it before, thank you for marrying me,” Matt said.
“I should be thanking you.”
“No, I’m the lucky one,” Matt said. “You won’t regret it. I promise you that.” And I knew that was one promise I could take seriously.
“Let’s go home, Julie,” Matt prodded. A single tear slipped down my face. I nodded, subdued, even though home was the last place I wanted to go with Matt, who only had one thing on his mind.
As I said my goodbyes to my parents and the Gellars, I tried hard to close my heart to the man I had not married. I wondered what Elena would think if she knew my unborn child was really her grandson. But I was determined not to tell anyone. It was too late. But wasn’t it lovely that these two families with their disparate histories and customs would soon be blended together forever in a crazy quilt with the birth of their grandchild. And it felt so right.
Chapter Twenty:
The End of a Dream
Minutes From the Colonoscopy Club—2014:
“What do you fantasize about when you and Matt are screwing?” Mackie wonders.
That’s easy. I fantasize that Matt and I are screwing. “The usual,” I answer evasively, rattling off the expected list of movie star hunks. “Brad. Russell. Ben. Pierce.” Manny. “What about you?”
“I fantasize about the nephews. Little Jon’s nephews are incredibly hot. The middle one is a real Studley Doright.”
“Do you enjoy shocking me? You really fantasize about Little Jon’s nephews?”
“Have you seen them? You’re just jealous.”
“You’re probably right,” I have to admit. Not only am I not getting any from Matt, but he doesn’t even have any hot nephews for me to fantasize about.
“Do you ever fantasize about Little Jon?” Mackie asks, her voice turning serious.
“Gross,” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth.
“You think Little Jon is gross?” Mackie probes.
“Of course not, but I can’t even imagine what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
****
Matt was driving me crazy trying to get me into bed when all I wanted was to get some sleep.
“I’m tired,” I said, padding around in the living room of his apartment in my robe and slippers. All the wedding gifts were piled up in Matt’s guest bedroom, which left me no choice but to share the master bedroom with my husband. “You honestly want to fool around?”
“I’d hardly call it fooling around,” Matt countered. “We’re married now. This is supposed to be our wedding night.”
“I didn’t ask for this wedding. I didn’t want it.” My nerves were frayed.
“Well, you’re stuck with me. So why don’t we try to make the best of it?”
I sulked. I was fresh out of excuses and time. Matt was trying his best to sweet-talk me out of the new nightgown he had purchased especially for this occasion. He pulled back my robe to reveal the black lace clinging to my body.
“For a start, why don’t you take your robe off, and let me see what’s underneath?” he suggested.
“You’ll have to take it off if you want it off,” I retorted, pouting.
“So this is the way you’re going to play it. I think I’ve been patient long enough, don’t you?”
“I guess,” I said, my voice barely rising above a whisper.
“Is that a yes?”
“I guess.”
“You’re a difficult woman,” Matt said.
“Then why did you marry me?” I asked petulantly.
“I hope I don’t live to regret it.” He laughed, trying to maintain some levity.
“Such tender words from my loving husband,” I said facetiously, trying to trigger his temper. But Matt didn’t have a temper, which was even more infuriating because I was itching for a brawl.
“Come on, Julie, please be nice. I really do love you, and I want to be with you. Do I have your permission to touch you?”
I was confused.
“After the wedding. One of your ground rules, remember?”
I must have been in a state of shock. I didn’t remember a thing about our wedding. I stared at Matt’s hands as he pulled my robe off slowly and reached inside my nightgown to caress me. I trembled. I had not been with him this way before. I had only been with one man. And now, I had no choice but to submit—to my husband, who was looking at me like he had won the lottery. Then he kissed me gently, slowly, a deep drugging kiss that sent my world spinning, and moved his lips a hair’s breadth away from mine for an agonizing moment, leaving me hungry for more. I suddenly remembered his kisses.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked roughly, looking into my eyes to gauge my reaction.
I shook my head slowly. I was in a daze.
“Can we go into the bedroom?” he asked hoarsely.
He had every right. I was his now, and I felt powerless to do anything about it. He was carefully walking me backwards into the bedroom and removing my nightgown, trying to strip me of all my defenses, and more.
He placed me gently on the bed and looked at me for a long time, his eyes roaming all over my body. I flushed and my breathing slowed.
�
�Where to start,” he began.
He placed his hand over my heart and his fingers splayed out over my breast. My pulse was racing.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” he whispered. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you or the baby.” I struggled slightly, instinctively. I tried to shift away from him, thinking that this was wrong, that I was betraying my true love, but his hands were too strong.
“Please don’t fight me, Julie.” I shivered and sighed and was still.
He outlined the shape of my body, rubbing his hands up my sides, briefly moving to caress my breasts, where he didn’t linger when I wanted him to, then slowly tugging off my panties. “There, now it’s just you,” he said. “That’s right. Let me feel you, all of you.” He lifted me into his arms and he kissed me, softly, wetly, on the mouth, and stroked my stomach, gently tracing the mound of my pregnancy. Then his smooth hands pressed my patch of hair, and his pale fingers crept lightly over a more sensitive spot. I imagined darker fingers touching me. My breath caught in the back of my throat as I gave myself over to my fantasy like some sacrifice as Matt tried to coax every last ounce of pleasure out of me. God, I didn’t want to want this man, but my body betrayed me, and I couldn’t resist this or him. I was so ready for him I was shuddering when he mounted me carefully and thrust himself into me.
It was—nice, nothing earth-shattering. He didn’t fill me, didn’t fit me perfectly, so I grabbed his bare white hips from behind and tried to help drive him into me. He mistook my disappointment and frustration for passion. When he made a move to get up, I kept him inside me and pressed my face against his neck so he couldn’t see my tears. I wanted to try to make my marriage work. But our coupling somehow lacked completeness.
“You belong to me, now,” Matt whispered, as if he had put his brand on me.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I murmured.
“Only me,” he repeated as he held me close, and tears continued to stream down my face.
“Please don’t cry,” he said sincerely when he felt the wetness on his neck. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s just been a long day.” I was anxious to put my wedding night far behind me.
Stones Page 17
