by L. D. Davis
My mother pulled me from my thoughts when she caught my attention down the table and beckoned me with a finger. I gave her a questioning look, which she answered with a head nod at my sister as they both stood from the table. With a sigh, I stood as well.
“What is happening?” Marco asked, glancing at my mom and sister.
“Lily probably has to use the facilities.”
I knew he was confused by the way his eyes narrowed.
“It’s my duty as maid of honor to hold her dress while she tinkles.”
He chuckled. “That’s very honorable indeed.”
I playfully smacked his arm as I passed by to attend to my MOH obligations.
By the time we returned, the tables were nearly cleared of the trappings of dinner, and it was almost time for the bride and groom to dance. The guests gathered around the dance floor, phones and cameras out and ready to capture the moment. No one, not Kyle or me or my mom, had been privy to what song they were going to dance to. Lily wanted to surprise Kyle. When Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love” began to play, it was obvious she’d succeeded. Just like the deep emotion that had crossed his face during the ceremony when she produced a ring for his hand, he had again appeared to be happy yet humble, almost as if he hadn’t deserved it.
“How are you doing? Almost ready to boogie down, Donna Summer?” Adam asked me as we watched.
“Don’t expect me to turn into no disco queen out there,” I warned my friend. “Besides, will you even have time to dance with me now that you’ve captured your lady?”
His cheeks turned pink as he gave me a shy smile that I found adorable. “I wouldn’t say that I’ve captured her just yet. Anyway, I will always have time to bust a move with you. Anytime, anywhere. I hope you greased up that knee real good.”
“Will you dance with me, Adam?” Cora asked, standing in front of me and peering up at Adam with excitement. “Like a princess like Aunt Lily?”
“As long as you promise not to step on my feet.”
The song came to an end, followed by applause and cheers from everyone. A new, upbeat song began to play, and the DJ invited all the guests out onto the floor. Suddenly, I was anxious. I hadn’t danced in front of other people besides Adam in years. I hadn’t even done it alone in quite a while.
I turned to look at Adam, wondering how I would get out of the promised dance, but I blinked stupidly at the speed in which he had moved away from me and somehow ended up on the dance floor with Celeste. Feeling relief for myself, I smiled for them. They deserved that first dance, even if A-ha’s “Take On Me” wasn’t exactly what I thought was first dance material, but whatever, they looked happy. Even Gavi was out there frolicking with Paris and Cody. Kyle waltzed with Cora as Lily shimmied her way over to me.
“Come on and dance with me,” she commanded, taking my hand.
I resisted at first, shaking my head, still feeling self-conscious. My sister wasn’t having it, though.
“Lydia, it’s my wedding night. You’re going to come out here and dance with me, bitch.”
With great reluctance and my nerves a jumbled mess, I let her pull me out there.
“Someone get this girl a drink!” Lily called out.
I rolled my eyes as I tried to relax as “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer started. A couple minutes later, though, Kyle handed both me and Lily drinks. I made an excuse about not wanting to spill anything on my dress and handed it back to him. As I danced, I dared a quick look around the room, to see how many people were watching me make a fool of myself, but most of the people who looked in our direction were smiling warmly at the beautiful bride. Only one person’s eyes were fixed solely on me.
Marco watched me from the sidelines where he stood with another man. The other man was speaking animatedly to him, but Marco barely responded to him, because he was so focused on me, which made it hard to dance. My movements were jerky, and I thought I looked stupid. I scooted off the wood floor—opposite of where Marco was stationed—as soon as the song was over.
I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Marco begin to cross the dance floor, his intent to come to me clear. Lily got to him first, however. With a relieved sigh, I went to the bar and ordered a mocktail margarita and became a spectator. Lily, of course, was a great dancer, and so was Marco. She’d told me about the first time she’d danced with him, and how sexy it had been. They weren’t being sexy now, but they had great chemistry and moved well together.
For a good half-hour, I managed to avoid going back out there, but after a slow dance for Kyle and his mom and Lily and our mom, my reprieve was over. Adam came for me, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Don’t chicken out now,” he said, practically dragging me behind him.
“But there’s not that many people dancing. It will be weird. I’ll look weird. People will look at me,” I complained.
He stopped and gave me a quick appraising look. “Lydia, people are going to look at you anyway. For one, you’re smoking hot in this dress, and two, you’re the sister of the bride. Of course, people are going to look at you.”
I continued to resist him. “They’re going to look at me because I’ll look ridiculous.”
“Then we’ll look ridiculous together. Come. The song is about to start. I paid that DJ twenty bucks to play it, so come on.”
“What song?”
Just as Adam dragged me to the middle of the dance floor, the song ended and another began. It was one of the songs we had practiced to over and over, “Save Room” by John Legend. Without giving me time to pull away or to object in any way, Adam put his hand on my waist and took my hand. Automatically, I placed my hand on his shoulder. My face was red, I knew it. I could feel it, just like I could feel people watching us, but I kept my gaze locked on Adam’s face.
“I hate you,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, summer donna and just enjoy the dance.”
The “SNL” reference made me snicker despite myself. Little by little, as I concentrated more on my steps than the people around us, I relaxed. It didn’t go perfectly, but Adam’s good-natured laughter made me laugh, too, and our dance grew sillier until my anxiety melted away. When I finally looked around us, I found Shawna and Cliff watching us with smiles, and of course, Marco with amazement, but no one else paid us any particular attention.
I stayed out there for several songs, either dancing with Adam, or with Lily, or with Adam, Lily, and Celeste, and sometimes Kyle. Occasionally with one of my kids. I even danced with Wes, who made me laugh at his antics.
Marco danced with Celeste and Mayson a few times, but most of the time, he stood on the sidelines, staring at me with a small smile on his face. Part of me was still self-conscious, but I didn’t let it force me back into a corner. Besides, there wasn’t anyone in the world who couldn’t help but to dance to “Play That Funky Music” by Wild Cherry. Almost everyone was on the dance floor for that song, and almost everyone knew the words. For the first time in too many years to count, I shouted out the words with everyone else, my hands in the air, feeling euphoric.
I let myself just have fun, because who knew when I’d be able to do so again. Tomorrow, or even possibly later tonight, I would have to face Marco, the changes occurring in my life, the depression I couldn’t seem to shake, and every other problem waiting for me. Until then, it felt nice to let go, something I was normally incapable of doing.
Like at every wedding, the DJ played “The Cha Cha Slide” and “Y.M.C.A.” and “Yeah!” by Usher. When John Legend came on again, this time with “Green Light,” Lily snagged Marco and they practically cleared the freakin’ dance floor. They were dancing very close and seemed to be enjoying it a little too much as they sang to each other.
Admittedly, I felt a little jealous as I watched. Kyle appeared slightly annoyed, but he still had a smile on his face as he watched his new wife with his best friend. When the song ended, they hugged. She whispered something into his ear as they moved off the floor. H
e glanced over at me, shook his head, and whispered back to her. U2’s “All I Want Is You” began to play, drawing couples out to dance.
It was time for me to make my exit, to go eat some cake and check on Mandy, who had been taken to a quieter part of the house by Shawna. Before I could get too far, however, someone caught my hand from behind. I turned, prepared to tell Adam I’d had enough. In all honesty, I’d done entirely too much, and the throbbing of my leg was only a tiny preview of what was to come.
“Adam, I…” I trailed off when I saw that it wasn’t Adam.
“Dance with me,” Marco said so softly, I barely heard him over the music. “Please.”
My leg hurt, and I was still very much conflicted, but…we were at a wedding. It was supposed to be a happy and enjoyable occasion. I didn’t want to ruin my sister’s day with any of my bad vibrations. Besides, Marco was the main reason I’d wanted to learn the fancy footwork. He was the one featured in my dancing daydreams.
His grin was beautiful when I acquiesced with a smile and allowed him to pull me in close. When his large, warm hand slid to the small of my back, my whole body sparked with awareness. With one of my hands on his shoulder and my other in his, and one of the greatest songs known to man playing, I felt like…like I was home. That was the only way I could describe it in my mind, like I was somewhere I belonged. Maybe it was just all the romance in the air from the wedding, or maybe…maybe it was us.
“You are glowing,” he said, staring into my eyes with wonder. “Absolutely radiant.”
A corner of my mouth lifted. “I think what you are seeing is perspiration and fatigue.”
“I’ve never seen sweat and exhaustion look so beautiful.”
“It takes talent to pull it off with such perfection.”
I felt the low rumble in his chest as he quietly laughed. “You never told me you know how to do the rumba.”
“I still don’t know how to do it, not really. Adam just made me look good.”
“I think you made you look good. I’m not kidding. You did great. You looked great. Not just when you danced with Adam, but every time you danced.”
My face bloomed with warmth from his compliments, but I shook my head in denial and looked down to hide my reaction. “No, I didn’t look great. I probably looked silly hobbling around out there like Ahab.”
He released my hand so he could lift my chin with two of his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You. Were. Great. You were perfect.”
I shrugged, feigning a nonchalant attitude. “Whatever. I’m not doing so perfect right now.”
And that was true. We were barely moving, just kind of rocking side to side.
“Still perfect, but we should stop. You’re clearly in pain.”
“No,” I said hurriedly before he could pull away. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I can last through the song.”
Reluctantly, he pulled me close again—even closer than before. “I spoke with Adam. He told me you’ve been going to physical therapy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When I started, you’d just found out about your brother. It didn’t seem right to bring it up, but then I liked the idea of surprising you. I couldn’t wait to show you that I wasn’t a hopeless case after all.”
His eyes narrowed. “I never thought you were hopeless, Tesoro, and you should have told me. I would have been happy and proud.”
“Yeah, well…after you left the last time, telling you pretty much anything was the last thing I wanted to do.” I tried not to sound bitter, but I heard a trace of it in my voice anyway.
“Is this where we’re going to do it then?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, too, along with resignation.
“Do what?”
“Have that conversation? I had hoped to do it in private, but if you’d like to do it here and now, that is fine. I would like to just finish this dance first, however.”
I glared up at him. One of his dark eyebrows rose in challenge. When I tried to break away from his embrace, he held me tighter, nearly cutting off my oxygen supply.
“You started it.” His smirk made my blood begin to boil.
I clenched my jaw, trying not to react badly and knee him in the balls. “You’re holding me too tight.”
His head dropped and his lips skimmed my jawline, making me inhale sharply. “No such thing.”
“We’re not even moving anymore,” I argued and pushed against his chest with both hands. He didn’t yield.
“No, but this is still so very perfect, Tesoro.” His lips lightly touched my neck and my eyes were beginning to flutter.
Suddenly, my stomach did a few back flips and nausea slammed into me. My eyes widened as I slapped a hand over my mouth. Marco’s stared at me with concern and loosened his hold on me.
“What is it?”
I shook my head violently, yanked myself out of his grip and hurried out of the room. For a moment, the nausea lessened, and I wasn’t in immediate danger of hurling all over the front of my beautiful dress. I headed toward the bridal suite. There I would have some privacy to puke to my heart’s desire and recover, or to just rest for a little while until the icky feeling passed. It became clear when I was only steps from the room, though, that it wasn’t going to just go away. In a matter of moments, I was on the floor in my dress, gripping the sides of the toilet and revisiting everything I’d eaten.
When I saw someone enter the bathroom in my peripheral vision, I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Not many people would freely enter the same small space where another person was vomiting. He was the last person I wanted with me in there, though, the last person I wanted asking me questions. A large hand rubbed comforting circles on my back. He didn’t have to hold my hair back, since it was well out of my way in the chignon.
Like every other time I’d puked since the bothersome symptoms began, I didn’t stop until everything had come up, and not even after that. When my stomach finally settled, and the last of the dry heaving ceased, I reached up and flushed the toilet for the third time and slumped back against the wall with a small groan. Marco knelt in front of me with a wet washcloth and gently wiped my face.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have had those mushrooms,” he murmured. “Perhaps that is why you’ve never liked them. Maybe you are allergic.”
That was a potential segue into the whole “Hey, I have some news for you” conversation, but the timing still didn’t feel right. Not there on the bathroom floor with the scent of my vomit still perfuming the air.
After he got rid of the washcloth a couple minutes later, Marco helped me to my feet. I winced at the discomfort and wanted to sit down for a minute, but I really needed to rinse the funk out of my mouth.
“Can you give me that small bag right there?” I winced again at the wretched, weak sound of my voice.
He went into the room and fetched what I needed. I brushed my teeth and rinsed while Marco stood silently in the doorway like my own personal watchdog. Once I finished, he gave me a small smile.
“You’ll do anything to get out of talking to me, including eating the food you hate most in life so it will make you sick.”
I shot daggers at him with my eyes. “Did it work?”
“Not even a little bit.”
I turned, leaned my ass against the vanity, and crossed my arms. Between the pain in my leg and the violent heaving I’d just done, my mood had drastically soured.
“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk. You want me to open up to you? Well, here it is. You’ve let me down. I didn’t want to believe in you, but you were so persistent, and then I did believe in you, and you let me down. I didn’t want Gavin, Cora, and Mandy to believe in you either, but you persisted, and they did, and you let them down. I’m not a complete heartless bitch. I understand that you needed to be there for your family, for your brother. I would have expected no less than for you to do what you did, to pick up and go as soon as you were needed. You have a big heart, Marco, and you are loyal to your family, which is admirabl
e, but we are not your family. That has become abundantly clear.”
He seemed at a loss for words at first. Finally, he sighed and looked at me like he was trying to indulge a child’s complaints. “I know the last couple months have been difficult for us, Lydia, but—”
I held up a finger. “No. No, you’re not going to do that again. You’re not going to speak to me in soothing words as if I’m being overly emotional and ridiculous, because I’m not. You’re not going to gently push my words aside as if I don’t mean them. I mean everything I am saying to you right now, and even though I was just sick and pathetic a few minutes ago, I am not weak.”
“I never said you were. I have always said you were strong and tenacious.”
“Then treat me like you mean it. Listen to me as you would a strong and tenacious woman.”
His hands went up and he took a step back. “Okay. Okay, I hear you. I have always heard you.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” I said with a bitter laugh. “Hearing me requires minimal attention. You can ‘hear’ me all day long and not know more than a few words that I’ve said. Something or someone that is heard can be nothing more than background noise. Listening requires your full attention, without distractions so you can process the meaning of my words. In the beginning, you listened. You listened very well. Since you went away, though, you have only been hearing me. You miss a lot when you don’t listen.”
I moved past him into the room. He remained close to the bathroom door, but I could feel his eyes follow me as I moved around the room to get my knee brace and the cream. Yesterday, Adam had strongly recommended that I wear the brace throughout the reception if I was going to dance, but I had just as strongly rejected that notion, because I didn’t think the thing was too flattering with my attire. Now, I regretted it, as the pain was worse than it’d been in weeks.
