it will have a little color now.
Pop! goes a champagne cork.
Pop! And another. Pop! Three.
Around come glasses, and this time
I don’t hesitate to take one, despite
the way the preacher is looking at me.
Micah sees that too. He laughs.
You’re on the path to hell young,
he says. But he isn’t much older,
and he has a glass in his hand too.
No one else seems concerned as
the toasts begin. Plenty of wine
for all. Including me. I like the bubbly
stuff okay. But am starting to crave
something stronger. Something
to take my mind off losing Aunt
Cora tomorrow. Something to make
me forget all about Micah and how
his hand feels exploring my knee.
I like it. I do. But this time I summon
my courage, push it away. “Stop,”
I whisper hoarsely. “Please stop.”
He does. And that makes me want
another glass of champagne. And
I know that isn’t good. I’ll stop after
tomorrow. I’ll stop when I get pregnant.
WEDDING DAY DAWNS
Heavy with impending rain.
It’s going to storm crazy.
Wonder if it’s an omen.