186 Miles (23 page)

Trent
and Ryan had been best friends since childhood.  They had gone to school
together from elementary to their senior year.  When Ryan and I decided to move
to Indiana, Trent was beyond thrilled.  He had never left the area and was
excited that he and Ryan could reconnect.  He also wanted his wife out of the
house and pushed her on me as often as possible.  I couldn’t
stand
her.

“Wow,
I haven’t seen you in ages,” he replied. 

The
funeral.  That was the last time.

“Yeah,
what’s been going on?”  I pulled my fingers from Vince’s.  I was sure they had
noticed, but I felt exposed.  Ashamed.  For the most part, my relationship with
Vince had been mine.  I had let a few friends in, but we were private.

“Well,
Hillary and I are pregnant!”

“Oh,
wow, that’s so great,” I replied.

“You
look so
good
,” he said.  Hillary shot him a look.

“Thank
you.”  I turned to Vince.  “Vince, this is Ryan’s friend, Trent, and his wife,
Hillary.  Guys, this is Vince Conti.  He and Ryan went to Northwestern
together.”

Trent
took Vince’s hand and gave it a hard shake.  “Ah, how’s it goin, man?”

Vince
nodded and tried to smile.  “Nice to meet you both.”

Trent
turned to me.  “How are
you
these days?  Hanging in there?”  His voice
was sympathetic.

“I’m
good.”  My eyes darted to Vince.  “Just busy.  Really busy.  Work and
everything.”

“Yeah,
I hear you.  So, Vince, what do you do?”

“I
work at a recording studio downtown.”

Trent
looked impressed.  “Whoa, like a record producer or something?”

“More
like a booking agent,” his answer was clipped.  He was
not
having fun
anymore.  I needed to end this conversation.

“We
really have to go.  We’ve got dinner reservations,” I chimed in.  “It was so
nice to see you.  And congratulations again, Hillary.  Both of you.”

Trent
leaned in and gave me a brief hug.  “Call me if you need anything.  I’m just a
phone call away.”

I
gave a weak wave to Hillary and we continued to the car.  I tried to take
Vince’s hand back, but he pulled it away, shifting the chairs in his arm.

We
got in the car.  He wouldn’t let me help him, slamming the door.

“What’s
the matter?”

He
turned to face me.  “Do I embarrass you?”

“Oh,
God, no.”  I leaned in and pushed my lips to his.  “I hate those people.” 
I
kind of did.

“Why
didn’t you introduce me as your boyfriend?  Why did you let go of my hand?  You
said I was Ryan’s friend from Northwestern?  You acted like we were fucking
friends
,
Ray.”

He
was right.  I don’t know why I did that.  Eventually, we would run into more
people.  Different situations.  I
did
treat him like a friend.  It
nauseated me that I could do that to him.

“I’m
so sorry.  I panicked.  They were the first people we’ve really run into since
Ryan died.  I promise, that will
never
happen again.”  I brushed my
thumb across the side of his neck.  “Super-mega promise.  Swear it.”

He
gave me a smile, but it was tight lipped.  He wasn’t buying it.  He pulled his
glasses from their case, sliding them on. 
Why did those things turn me on
so ridiculously?

“Push
your seat back.”

“It’s
pushed all the way back already.  Why?”  He stared straight ahead, his voice
still a little cool.

“Because
I want to fuck you in those glasses.”  I brushed the front of his pants.

He
looked around the parking lot.  It was mostly empty now.  “Here?”

“Yes,
here,” I breathed. 

“Ray,
we’re two minutes from the house.”

I
licked the side of his neck.  “I can’t wait two minutes.”

He
grabbed my waist and shuffled me across his lap, my legs spread at his sides. 
He shifted his booted leg over to the driver’s side, giving me a little room to
move.  I lowered my hands to his waist, unbuttoning him, sliding his zipper
down, easing him out of his boxers slowly.  He moved his hands from my hips to
under my dress, moving my underwear aside, slowly pushing in.

“Oh,
God,” I cried, leaning my back against the dashboard.  I smacked my hand on the
glass by accident.

Vince
laughed and pulled me closer.  “Be careful, babe.  We’re gonna get arrested.” 
He dragged his tongue over my breastbone. 

I
could feel every movement.  He felt
incredible
.  He gripped the back of
my jacket and pushed into me over and over, never breaking eye contact.

“I
love you,” he whispered.

“Marry
me,” I breathed.

Oh
my God, did I just ask him to marry me mid-thrust?

I
moved faster, grinding my hips into his, gripping the back of his neck with my
fingernails.  I could feel a coil in my abdomen.  I wasn’t going to last
another thirty seconds. 

“Marry
me, Vince,” I said, once more.  I pushed my body into his, slowing my
movements, watching him closely.  I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere
else, with anyone else… ever. 

“Yes.” 
His body slowed, moving at an easy pace, studying me carefully.  “Yes,” he
repeated.

He
clutched my side with his left hand and moved his free hand under my dress,
speeding up the process.  I arched my back, clenching his neck, my nails
concentrated in his skin.  I shattered against his thumb, whimpering softly.

“I
love you so much,” he whispered before stilling inside of me.

Once
we could breathe again, we both started to laugh, our bodies still connected.

“Did
you just ask me to marry you?”  He was grinning widely.

“Did
you just say yes?”

He
leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.  “I did.”  He swatted my behind. 
“Let’s get home before we have to spend the night in county lockup, Mrs.
Conti.”

Oh
my God.  I would soon be Mrs. Conti.

He
reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his grandmother’s ring. 

“I
always carry this, just in case,” he said, sliding the delicate diamond band
onto my left hand.  It fit
perfectly
.

Vince
wanted to get married right away.  If I would have gone along with it, we would
have been at the courthouse on Tuesday morning.  I wanted an actual wedding. 
Not like my first one, with no one present.  I wanted a memorable day.  Nothing
showy or ridiculous, just fifty or so of our friends and family, saying our
vows in the garden of the house we shared together.

I
promised him six weeks.  November 2
^nd
.  That’s how long it would
take me to pull this off.  We designed our invitations together.  They were
informal and fun, using vintage video game fonts and pixelated hearts.  We
received them a week later.  They were priceless; exactly how we imagined.

*

Elsa
and Jack came into town on the first Saturday of October.   She and I spent the
day shopping for a dress while the boys went shopping for Vince.  I had no idea
what he would wear.  He just said he wasn’t wearing a tux.  That’s all I had to
go on.

We
tried a million different dresses, but I knew the moment I zipped it up.  It
was a light shade of pearl pink lace.  Capped sleeve, just above the knee, a
raw silk long bow in the same color hanging at its natural waistline.  It was
simple and beautiful.  No embellishments, no starchy underpinnings. 

I
asked the salesgirl for a swatch of the material.  I would give it to Vince as
a tease.

Elsa
sat on the loveseat in the showroom.  “Do a spin.”

I
shot her a look.  “Really?”

“That
dress is fucking cute.  You look like Audrey Hepburn.  Ooooh, you need a thick
headband!”

“Huh. 
Maybe.  It’s not a bad idea.”  I paused.  “What’s
Jack
gonna wear?”

“Don’t
fucking start.”

I
threw my hands up.  “I’m not.  I’m just saying, I can’t believe you guys are
getting fucking
married
.  What the hell has been happening over there?”

This
conversation was weird.  This was Vince’s brother and my sister.

“Um…
I’m not sure how to tell you this, so I guess I’m just gonna.  We kind of
already
got
married.”  She squealed aloud.

I
plopped down next to her on the sofa.  “Are you serious?”  My eyes went wide.

“Yes,
it’s insane.  I’ve been dying to tell you… I don’t know why I waited.  I guess
it’s because Jack got divorced not that long ago... I love him like crazy.  And
the
sex
?  It’s stupid hot.”

Ew. 
My brother-in-law.

I
smacked her on the leg.  “Will you shut
up
?  Your voice has one level. 
Loud.  And are you fucking
serious
?” I yelled in a whisper.  “
Married
?”

“We
just decided to do it.  It was just last Friday.  We wanted to tell you guys in
person.  We’re gonna have a reception at the house, but not until after your
wedding.”

“Oh
my God… I just can’t believe it.  Why didn’t you
call
us?  We would have
come up.”

“You
had so much going on… your own wedding stuff.  I just didn’t want to mess
anything up.”

I
studied her.  “So, what did Mom say?”

She
smiled sheepishly.  “She doesn’t know.”

“What?”
I practically screamed.  The salesgirl scoffed at us.

“And
you better not fucking
tell
her either.”

“So,
you’re just going to be secretly
married
now?  You’re not even gonna
tell
her?”

“Yeah,
yeah,” she said, peeling at her nail polish.  “I will.  Just… not today.”

“Holy
shit, El.  You just went to the JP or something?”

“Yeah,
I just bought a dress in the morning and met him on the steps.”

So
romantic.

“Oh
my God.”  I leaned in and wrapped her in my arms.  “I just can’t believe… this
is
nuts
, you know.”

“Are
you surprised?” she asked.

“Um…
yeah.  Isn’t that the point of an elopement?  To surprise the
crap
out
of everyone?”

“I
guess.  Mom’s gonna be pissed.  I can’t wait.”

I
laughed aloud and stood, facing her.  “So, this is the one, you think?” I
asked, looking down at the dress.

“Oh,
yeah.  You should probably shorten it though.  Show him what you’re workin
with.”

I
rolled my eyes at her.  My little sister.  Freakin
married
.

*

I
did a rush order on the dress.  After it came in, I tried it on a dozen times
each week to make sure it still fit.  I did take Elsa’s advice and shortened it
a few inches.  It was perfect.

Whew.

I
loved that dress.  I couldn’t wait to wear it for Vince on our wedding day.  I
was getting more anxious by the day.

November
weather in Indiana was risky.  It was different from hour to hour.  It could
snow or be 60 degrees.  Vince was convinced that we had to get married in the
garden at our house.  He was right, it
was
beautiful.  I spent so much
time out there, tending to my flowers.  It felt like a waste to have the
ceremony inside.  We watched the weather every morning as our wedding day
approached.

“Hey,
what do you think about music? Should we hire a band or something?”

I
sat beside him on the couch and ran my fingers through his hair.  “I don’t
know, probably not.  We have neighbors.  What about asking Bob to do it or
something?  Didn’t he used to be a DJ?”

He
leaned in and kissed me.  “You’re so smart.  I’ll call him later.  Come up with
a playlist, maybe.”

“Or…
‘Kiss Me Till Midnight’ could play,” I teased.

He
smacked me lightly on the back.  “Smart ass.”

“Oh,
just make sure he plays Ludacris’s “Get Back.”   I smiled widely.  “Elsa’s
favorite.”

He
laughed.  “Really?”

“Oh
yeah, Els and I know that whole song from beginning to end.  I’ve got
mad
rap skills.  You didn’t know?  I’m a true baller.”  I laughed.

“Is
that right?  Well, this I’ve
got
to see.”

“I
don’t have the song… sorry,” I replied, grinning.

“Oh,
honey, welcome to the digital age… if you’re going to
rap
right now, I
can pull it up in sixty seconds.  Please?” he begged.

“Fine.” 
I stood in front of him and did a few lunges, laughing at myself
.

Vince
found the song (of course) and plugged his laptop into the speaker system. 
“You’re up, baby.”

“Heads
up… Heads up… Here’s another one.  And a… and another one,” I started, walking
in a slow circle, doing a low bounce.

Why
you all in my ear? 

Talkin’
a whole bunch of shit that I ain’t tryin’ to hear. 

Get
back, mothafucka, you don’t know me like that…

Get
BACK, mothafucka, you don’t know me like THAT!

I
swung my arms towards him in true hip-hop style, causing him to nearly split
his face smiling.

So,
so come on, come on… don’t get swung on, swung on…

It’s
the knick knack paddy whack…

Still
ridin Cadillacs…

Family
off the street made my homies put the baggies back!

Vince’s
face was priceless, but I continued my act, turning my back to him and giving
him a Beyoncé-style ass shake. 

We
in the Red Light Dis-TRICT! 

The
Red Light District…

Four
minutes later, Vince was literally clutching and biting a throw pillow, staring
a hole into me.  When I finished my “performance,” he laughed so hard, I felt
embarrassed.

“Hey,”
I warned, “no making fun!  You begged me to see that, so now you have to live
with the image forever.  That’s on you.”

He
pulled me into his lap and kissed me hard.  It ended too soon.  “Do you want to
just go down to the courthouse today?  I don’t think I can let another day go
by without being married to you.”

I
punched him in the chest lightly and shuffled to my feet.  “Shut up.  You’re
mean.”

“I’m
not
.  What just happened here was literally one of the best things I’ve
ever seen in my life.”

I
changed the subject.  “What do you want to do about cake?”

“Baby,
don’t be embarrassed.”

I
repeated my question, this time with a smile on my lips.  “What do you want to
do about cake?”

“My
mom wants to do it.  Is that okay?”

“Elsa
could do it.  I mean, she makes these elaborate, beautiful cakes at the bakery
all of the time.”

“You
want her to have to make the cake and then figure out how to transport it three
hours in Jack’s truck?”

“You’re
right.  Your mom should do it.”

Besides,
if it was anything like her doughnuts…

“She’s
excited anyway.  Let her have this.”  He smiled.

“Of
course.  What kind is she making?”

He
shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Does it matter?”

“No,
I guess not.”

All
of our decisions had been like this, thankfully.  A thirty second conversation
that ended with
Eh, I don’t care
.  We just wanted to be married.  He was
the first man I knew that was
dying
to have a ring on his finger.

I
had picked it up from the jeweler last week.  It was a simple 3mm platinum band
with a matte finish.  I hoped he would love it.

“Two
weeks, honey.”  He nudged my leg.

“I
can’t believe we are still trying to do so much stuff last minute.  I should
have planned better.”

“We’re
getting married at home.  The invitations are mailed.  My mom’s making the food. 
You’re doing your own flowers.  We’ve got lights, candles… it’s going to be
great.  I don’t give a shit about any of that anyway.  I only care about you in
that pink dress, me finally getting to call you by my last name.”

“I’m
thinking about going back to my maiden name, actually,” I teased.

“Oh,
yeah?”  He tackled me onto the floor, kissing me.

“Sure.”

He
pulled his head up.  “Are you serious?”

I
kissed him hard.  “No, dummy.”

His
sigh was audible.  Last week, on the phone, I heard him make a hotel
reservation for “Vince and Rachel Conti.”  I had never heard his voice lift as
much as it did with that one sentence.

“Thank
God.”  He laughed softly.

“Why
is it such a big deal?”

“It
just is.  It makes my heart ache thinking of you as Rachel Stephens.  Or Black,
for that matter.  I know it sounds totally caveman, but you’re
mine
.  I
guess I want everyone to know,” he said, lightly rubbing between my legs.