Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story (21 page)

The reception was held in a humble little place called the Royal Oaks
Country Club, whose annual fee cost more than my house and has to be paid up front
by all selected members. I halfway expected to bump into George Bush as I gingerly
clung to Jonah, not wanting to be left alone in a sea of snobby strangers. He introduced
me to friends who greeted me with curious eyes, and girls whose stares were unforgivingly
cold. There seemed to be one person in particular who took a liking to me, a groomsman
whom Jonah introduced as Bobby. He was decidedly past his drinking limit but showed
no signs of slowing down.

“Lady in red,” he slurred in front of Jonah, “don’t you look ravishing.”

My date laughed it off dismissively and took me to the dance floor.
He promised we’d leave as soon as the cake was cut, and I told him I didn’t mind
at all. Before he was able to reply, a girl cut our dance short and asked me if
she could steal Jonah away for a few moments. He looked apologetically at me and
I ducked away, trying to hide in a corner with a glass of champagne. Every second
I stood there alone seemed an eternity, and I attempted to not show the awkwardness
I was experiencing while I waited.

“Look who it is,” someone said to my left and I looked up to find
Bobby looking at me with eyes glossed over in whiskey. I gave him a tight-lipped
smile and raised my glass to his cordially. He grabbed me with his free hand and
smashed our bodies together, my champagne spilling over onto his suit. “Dance with
me,” his hand slipped down to my bottom and he squeezed. “Where the hell did Jonah
find someone like you on such short notice?” he mused to himself as I failed to
pull away, not wanting to make a scene.

“What the hell are you doing, Bobby?” Jonah came up from behind us,
irritation lacing his words.

“Not a damn thing,” he said, loosening his grip on me. “Trying to
dance with this purdy lady you brought to the party. You brought her for me, right?
You’re getting married and I’m still single, after all.”

“Bobby, you’re drunk,” Jonah exhaled irritably.

“I ain’t drunk, partner, and I ain’t blind neither. Now you know good
and well Megan won’t tolerate philandering, so just hand over this fine piece to
me and I’ll make sure she has a proper Texan time in my bed tonight.”

There was no time to react when he said this, as I saw Jonah’s fist
flash peripherally, square into Bobby’s jaw. In seconds, they were on the ground
and I began to yell, begging them to please stop. I’d been around the block enough
times to know one never tries to get into a fight involving two men who’ve been
drinking, lest you want your face bashed in by mistake. Tears blinded me by the
time some of the guys came to separate them and I succeeded at blinking them back.

“What the hell’s going on?” the groom pushed Bobby into a corner.

He straightened up and readjusted the carnations smeared with blood
on his jacket. “Not a damn thing,” he snickered and looked straight at me, everyone’s
gaze following suit. “Just Jonah here’s getting his panties in a bunch because I
was trying to acquaint myself with his little side bitch.”

“I’m out of here,” I said under my breath, turning around and looking
for the nearest exit. A bridesmaid frowned at me and moved out of the way, probably
glad to see me go. I was still trying to find my way to an exit minutes later when
Jonah came up behind me, his left eye red and swollen from the fight.

“Please don’t go,” he pleaded.

I kissed his cheek softly. “I have no desire to be here, love. And
I say that in the best possible way. This is not my place and I was out of line
accepting your invite to begin with.”

“Your place is with me,” he spoke softly. “Let’s just go anywhere
you want. Screw those people.”

Grabbing his hand, I kissed the back of it, never wanting to let go.
“Those are your people, Jonah, and it is unlikely Bobby will remember any of this
tomorrow.”

“Bobby is the last thing on my mind right now. Let’s escape,” he stretched
his hand out to me and waited. “Just tell me where you want to go.”

Kemah Boardwalk has all the components of a Nicholas Sparks
movie minus Ryan Gosling and a piano: water, children running loose, nice people
with Southern accents, and a few amusement rides and restaurants drowning in greasy
food. After I called Britt, she told me to head there for a celebration being held
for Evan’s best friend, who was turning 22. Jonah and I walked along the bay on
wooden planks that held the weight of our thoughts, sticking out like sore thumbs
in our formal attire. The water swayed peacefully over the veranda, a cool breeze
cleansing us from earlier misfortunes. I ventured to think there was a certain romance
floating in the air that didn’t slip him. I could feel his stare clothing my body,
but continued to move forward with careful strides, not wanting to get a heel caught
in between the planks and kill the moment by landing face first on the floor. When
we finally arrived at Landry’s, we headed toward the corner where the birthday party
was situated.

“Holy fancy balls, look at you guys!” Britt squealed when she spotted
us. “Where did you come from, the royal wedding or something?”

“I think the royals are a little less pretentious,” the sentence slipped
out of me before I could catch myself.

“What happened to your face, dude?” Evan stepped up and shook Jonah’s
hand, saving me from further verbal diarrhea. “You got a little blood there.”

“He ran into a door,” I quipped quickly and asked where the bar was.
Britt shot me a look that confirmed we had lots to talk of in the morning as she
smiled, turning to dance with her date. Evan’s friends were a great group of kids
in their early 20s with a love of fireball shots and table dancing. Jonah and I
found ourselves forgetting about Bobby and the royals as we immersed our senses
deeper into the night with them. The nearness of him ignited all my old feelings
once more as our bodies touched under flashing lights. A knot of dreadful panic
suddenly overcame me when I remembered he was engaged, and that night was only as
temporary as Cinderella’s carriage. Fearful of turning into a pumpkin right before
his very eyes, I anxiously faked a headache and told him we should head home.

“So early?” he complained, squeezing my hands.

“It’s three in the morning.”

He pouted and grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair, tenderly draping
it over my shoulders. Once we said our goodbyes to the few brave souls that remained
from our initial group of 20, we were back on our way. John Mayer sang sweetly from
the radio and I told Jonah how much I adored his music. He smirked and said half
the female population probably did as well. The unfamiliar roads we were on were
dangerously dark, and I nervously kept my eyes peeled at our surroundings. Two cars
flashed by us at the speed of light and I squeezed his hand involuntarily.

“Damn kids and their racing,” he muttered under his breath. Our fingers
intertwined and I made no efforts to move them from their secured position, glad
to be headed to my hotel bed after such a tiring day. My eyelids begun to close
involuntarily as I nodded off. Resisting with all my might, I opened my window for
a wave of fresh air. In the distance, I spotted something moving while the car rolled
down a hill.

“What is that?” a large black and white figure peered over the barrier
wall to the right of the road. Instantly, it all unfolded before my brain fully
grasped the concept of what was taking place. Two guys in hooded sweatshirts carried
a large spotted dog over the wall and dropped it there, quickly disappearing into
the darkness whence they came from. The animal took off quickly in a state of panic
and confusion, running aimlessly back and forth across the lanes.

“Stop the car!” I screamed, startling Jonah.

“What the f—,” his eyes blinked repeatedly as the scene came fully
into view.

“Stop, Oh-my-God, please!” I yelled again, transfixed. I jumped out
as soon as he hit the brakes, running in my heels as I tried to catch it before
it was too late. Cars whizzed by me, dodging us both miraculously and honking angrily.
My dress floated in clouds of red behind me and I could hear Jonah calling after
me to come back. I darted along the wall and whistled at the dog, urging it to turn
around and come to safety. Shuddering to think of the type of people who’d throw
a defenseless animal to its death, a dizziness washed over me without preamble.
I broke down and steadied myself against the same concrete barrier those thugs had
thrown the dog over merely minutes before. Cowering down into a sitting position,
I started to sob silently at my failed rescue attempt. Seconds after, I looked up
to see the pup flashing toward me. Before I could react it was by my side, licking
the salty tears off my face as I began to pet it. Jonah reached and embraced us
at the same time, steadily soothing me and kissing the crown of my head.

“You’re alright, now,” he said, rocking me back and forth as cars
continued to zoom by. I faced him and began to apologize for my irrational behavior,
but he simply held me and forbid me to speak. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll take
the dog home now and figure it out tomorrow,” he said, rubbing my back over and
over as I melted into him. I was consumed with such emotion that I felt compelled
to tell him I loved him, consequences fully irrelevant. Yet when I focused on his
face, so beautiful and burdened with genuine worry on that dark fall night, I experienced
an abnormal lightness of being and my world gradually collapsed to black in his
arms as I fainted.

I don’t think this merits any sort of introduction except,
my first big purchase when I’m rich and famous will be Lasik surgery.

Well, Lasik and a pony. I love ponies.