Big Girls Do It Married (16 page)

"Well, can you see yourself with a kid?"

I thought about it. "Um. I guess? It's never crossed my mind. I honestly don't know."

"If you happened to get pregnant, like whoops. How would you feel?"

"God, Jamie, what's with the cracked-out questions? Are you pregnant or something?"

"Me? Hell, no!"
 

"Then what is this?" I groaned as the masseuse hit a knot and bore down on it.

"I don't know. You getting married and this whole vow of celibacy thing has really messed with my head."

I tried to picture myself as a mother and failed completely. "I don't know, Jamie. I don't know a damn thing about kids. I have no nieces or nephews, no friends with kids. If I got pregnant, I would be scared, I think. But...excited, too, probably, once I got over the whole shitting-myself-with-terror part. Do I really have to think about this? I'm panicking enough as it is without you jinxing me with a sudden pregnancy or something."

"Sorry, sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. My brains been going a mile a minute for days now."

I laughed. "Maybe the constant sex was dulling your brain. Now that you're not in a constant state of sexual arousal, maybe you'll think more clearly."

Jamie snorted. "You couldn't be more wrong, girlfriend. I'm hornier than ever! Not having had sex in so long—"

"It's been less than a week."

She continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "—has turned me into a raging fucking horndog. I'm honestly worried I'll end up jump the first thing with a cock at some point." She shuddered. "I haven't even gotten myself off, Anna. It's awful. I can't stop thinking about sex. I feel like a guy. I should scratch my vag every time I think about sex and rename myself James. It's that bad. Like, all the time."

"Right now?"

"God, yes. Like, even talking to you, I'm thinking I could just roll over and whip this towel off and me and masseuse boy here can go at it on the massage table."

The masseuse, Todd, a toned young blond man with a carefully sculpted goatee, laughed. "Sorry, sweetheart. Wrong team. And we're not that kind of establishment anyway."

"Damn it," she laughed. "Just as well, I guess. It wouldn't be good to break my vow this quick."

Todd made an odd face. "You really took a vow of celibacy? Like no sex? At
all
?"

Jamie sighed theatrically. "Yes. No sex. At all. It's all her fault. She thinks it'll help me find the man of my dreams or some shit."

He bobbled his head back and forth. "Hmmm. Interesting idea. Is it working?"

"Not so far. But like she said, it's only been a week. If it works, I have a feeling it'll take longer than a week."

"Well, good luck," he said. "I can't imagine what that must be like. I'm already boy-crazy as it is. If I had to go a week without so much as a blow job I think I'd actually die."

Jamie giggled. "Yeah. Exactly how I feel."

"But you—" He cut himself off with a laugh, slapping her shoulder playfully. "Oh. You dirty little slut!"

"Thus the vow of celibacy," Jamie said. Then she craned her neck to look at the masseuse. "Are you allowed to call your clients names?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "You're buck-ass naked, honey. I can say whatever I want."

"Oh. Well." Jamie frowned. "I never thought about it that way."

"Most people don't," he said.

"Honestly, though," Jamie said, "it really does change the way you think, I'm discovering. Especially if you're boy-crazy like me. I've always had someone around. I got to rely on them for my self-esteem, in a way. Like, they make me feel sexy, and they want me, so it gives me a power over them. But that's different than feeling it from inside myself, you know? Not looking at every hot guy and wondering how fast I can get his pants off is actually kind of liberating."

"Really?" Todd asked.

"No kidding. If I can make this stick for a while, it might be a really good thing."

"Hmmm," Todd said. "I think my boyfriend is about to break up with me. Maybe I'll give it a shot. I think I'll set a goal, like two weeks at first, and see where it goes from there."

"I should get a medal if I make it two weeks," Jamie said.
 

I looked at her. She was acting nonchalant, but something in her voice had me thinking she had someone in mind who was threatening her vow. She met my eyes, and something passed between us, a kind of unspoken agreement. I wouldn't ask, and when she was ready, she'd tell me.

The next surprise of the day was an appointment at a high-end salon, where my hair and makeup were done with artistic care. Jamie was quiet for much of it, but with enough judicious use of outright mockery, I got her back into sassy form. After my hair and makeup were done, we went back to the hotel to finally get me into my dress.

"Jamie, you have to help me write my vows."

She looked at me as if I'd grown horns. "Two things. One: you haven't written them yet? And two: me? Are you crazy?"

I snorted. "No, I haven't. I've been sort of busy, if you hadn't noticed. But fine, I'll write them myself. Just give me some time alone before we put me in my dress."

"I think it's time for another cup of coffee. I'll be back later." She left the room with an airy wave.

I stared at the pad of hotel stationery, with absolutely no clue what to write. And then Jeff's advice floated into my mind:
Just write them from the heart. Tell him I love him forever and always.
 

My pen scratched along the paper, the words flowing easily once I got started. The paper had a few wet blotches by the time I was done.

Jamie came back with a cup of coffee for me, and we drank together in peaceful silence. I let Jamie read my vows.

She handed the paper back with a sniff. "Damn it, girl. You've made me cry. We don't cry. And we just had our makeup done."

I handed her a Kleenex. "We do now."

"When did that happen?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm learning to be okay with it. Crying doesn't have to be a sign of weakness. It just means we're human. We're women, and we have emotions."

"Gah. Whatever." She rubbed at her eyes in irritation. "I still hate crying, even if you
are
right. Now, get your sexy ass up, and let's put on a wedding dress."

*
 
*
 
*

I focused on breathing. Breathe in, clutch the bouquet of roses in trembling fingers; breathe out, one slow step forward. Wide double doors were pulled open from within the chapel, revealing a dozen dark wood pews, each pew garlanded at the aisle-end with a bow of white silk and a single pink rose. The aisle itself was covered in pale pink rose petals.
 

My heart was beating so hard I thought the entire chapel could hear it pounding like a drum. When the doors opened, an older woman with silver hair began Mendelssohn’s "Wedding March" on a grand piano. I was shaking so bad the roses trembled in my hands. My knees were weak, my throat thick and burning.

A male voice cleared his throat from beside me, a deliberate
ahem
to catch my attention. I turned and nearly fainted. Jared stood next to me in his full dress uniform. He looked so different, so much older. I hadn't seen him in so long.... He had new lines around his eyes, a leaner, rangier build. His eyes were like mine, hazel and expressive, and his hair was the color mine would be, chocolate brown. He gave me a bolstering smile and held his arm out for me, and I had to choke back a sob.

"Jared? When did you get here? And how?" I whispered, looking up at him.

He bumped me with his shoulder. "Jeff knew someone who got me some emergency leave," he whispered back. "Pulled some strings, called me, and here I am. Just got in an hour ago. Your boy up there is a keeper, sis."
 

"Yeah," I said. "That's why I'm in this dress."

He laughed. "Yeah. Now quit talking to me and look at your husband," Jared said. "I think he's trying to catch your eyes."

I'd been avoiding looking at Jeff because I was worried it would make me burst into hysterics. I was near to hyperventilating as it was, and with Jared's unexpected presence to walk me down the aisle, I was even closer to the edge of breakdown. I tore my gaze away from my brother and met Jeff's eyes. A single tear dripped down my cheek, and I wiped it away.

He was resplendent in a traditional tuxedo, his eyes wavering with emotion as he watched me. As if sensing my nerves, he smiled at me and mouthed
I love you
. My nerves receded, my tears evaporated, and I could move again. I'd been rooted to the spot at the doors, Jamie behind me holding my train. Now, with his eyes on me, loving me, I was able to take the first step forward.
 

The aisle wasn't all that long, but the measured walk from the doors to
him
seemed to take an eternity. With each step, I realized more fully how ready I was for this. I didn't think I would be, even when I agreed to marry him. I worried, all the way up until the moment I saw him at the altar, that I wouldn't be ready. But I was.

I'm ready. I want to do this.
 

With every step closer to the man I loved, I realized that this was exactly what I wanted, and you couldn't have dragged me away from the altar with a thousand wild horses.

At long last I reached him. A step up, a second, and then his hands were in mine, holding me, steadying me. His eyes burned into mine, the love in his gaze bringing tears of happiness to my eyes. I didn't wipe them away.
 

"Dearly beloved," the minister began, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the blessed union of this man and this woman..."

It really sank in then, as the minister began his brief sermon:
 

I'm getting married.

There was no "dearly beloved" besides Darren, Jamie, and Jared. But then I peeked out at the chapel and saw a man a few years older than Jeff who I took to be his brother sitting next to an older woman with graying hair and eyes dark brown like Jeff's.
 

I took a deep, wavering breath to steady myself, clutching Jeff's hands for dear life. I tuned in to the minister's words of advice regarding marriage, trite platitudes that suddenly took on new meaning as I contemplated the reality of being married to Jeff. Then came the vows. The minister turned to me first, and Jamie reached up to hand me my sheet of paper.

I needed several breaths to calm myself enough to speak. "Jeff, I wish I could explain to you how much you mean to me. I wish I had words to say how deeply entwined you are into the woman I've become. You've swept me off my feet and turned my life into a fairytale, because you are my happily ever after. I don't care what's happened in the past, and I'm not worried about what will happen in the future. All I need is you with me, every day. Most wedding vows have promises like 'in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer.' I promise you those things. Of course I do. Money, health, those things are a part of life. What I promise you is forever. I promise you all of me. I promise you every last shred of myself, day in, day out, no matter what. Even when you're being a stupid jerk." I laughed, half-sobbing, and took a moment to compose myself.

"I'm never a stupid jerk," Jeff said.

I wiped my cheeks. "Yes, you are. Now shut up and let me say my vows. I'm not done." I scanned the paper and found my spot, near the end. "I promise to love you, even when I don't feel like it. I promise to take care of you. I promise to listen to you, because you're usually right. I promise, above everything, to be faithful to you, and
only you
, for as long as we both live. I love you, Jeff Cartwright."

The minister nodded and turned to Jeff. "And your vows?"

Jeff grinned. "Mine are a bit...different. Darren?"

Darren reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a wireless microphone, handed it to Jeff. Music began to play from the PA system, soft country strains. I recognized the song: "Wanted" by Hunter Hayes.

Jeff lifted the mic to his lips, and for the second time in two days, a man sang to me. This time was different. If I hadn't already known it, Jeff singing a sweet country song to me as his vows proved I'd made the right choice. I didn't feel on the spot, or pressured, or frightened. This was a soft serenade, a dedication set to music.
 

His arm went around my waist, my hand joined his on the mic and I sang the harmony, our bodies swaying to the rhythm, our eyes locked on each other. Everything faded except the music, except Jeff's deep, strong voice weaving around mine, the words of the song with their soul-deep, so-perfect meaning.
 

I didn't need the words of the song to hear Jeff's promises to me. They were written in his eyes. They were proven in the way he loved me, in the fact of this wedding. I would be wanted, every day. I would be loved, every moment.
 

The song ended, but Jeff stood holding me, one arm around my waist, one hand on the mic. "I know you heard what I was saying with that song," Jeff said, "but it's just not enough. Forever isn't enough. No words are enough. But yeah. I want to make you feel wanted every minute of your life. I want to wrap you up and protect you. I want you to know how completely I cherish you, I want you to know it when you wake up, and when you fall asleep. I want to make the things that hurt you not hurt so bad. I want my love to fill you when you're empty, and make you overflow when you're full. I want every moment of our life together to be your fairytale, your happily ever after. I'm no knight in shining armor, no prince charming, but I'll sure as hell try, every single day."

He paused, thinking. "Remember what I said to you, not too long ago?"

Somehow I did know exactly what he was going to say, and I said it with him. "The time I've spent with you is better than anything I've ever known."

He laughed, brushing my face with his rough palm. "Yeah, of course you remember. Well, that'll be true for always, every day until the day we die. I love you, Anna."

The minister waited until he was sure we were both done speaking. "Anna, repeat after me."