Don't Kiss the Bride

“Don’t ask her age!” his wife exclaims. “Never ask a woman her age.”

“She’s eighteen,” Jude answers, shoving a cracker in his mouth.

Bracing myself for shock and backlash, I pick up a cracker and nibble it gingerly. I don’t want to appear rude by not eating some of the snacks Suzy put out for us.

“Just like me!” Aunt Suzy says instead. “I was eighteen when I married Al. I felt so old at the time, even though I was so young.” She looks at her husband with wistful eyes. “I thought I knew everything.”

“You still think you know everything,” Uncle Al teases.

Suzy turns to us. “Age doesn’t matter. You two will grow together and figure it all out. Just like we did.”

“You guys, we’re not really a couple,” Jude says, shaking his head. “You understand that, right? She’s only eighteen. And we’re just friends. I don’t want you two getting all excited thinking we’ll be having babies.”

“I love babies!” Aunt Suzy exclaims, grabbing on to that idea like a shopaholic on Black Friday. “It wouldn’t hurt to just have one.”

Jude and I laugh simultaneously. “No, Aunt Suze. No babies.”

“I’ll babysit for you. I have nothing to do all day.”

“Still not happening,” Jude says.

“Well, if she’s going to babysit…” I tease, playfully nudging his arm.

He turns to me with a smile, leaning so close to me that, for a moment, I think he might kiss me. “Don’t encourage them.”

“You said you’re living together?” Uncle Al asks, raising his eyebrows.

Jude nods. “Yeah, but—”

“Why not just be married for real, then?” Aunt Suzy interrupts.

“We don’t want to be married,” Jude answers.

Aunt Suzy waves her hand dismissively at him. “That’s ridiculous. You already are.”

With a sigh, Jude stands and playfully kicks his uncle’s foot. “Okay, enough marriage and baby talk. You want to go look at the washing machine? See if we can find some missing socks in that thing?”

Uncle Al nods and stands up. “Maybe we can pull your head out of your ass while we’re down there.”

Jude chuckles and glances back at me before he and his uncle head down the basement stairs. “You’ll be okay?” he asks.

I nod and reach for another cracker. “Yeah,” I say happily. “I’m good.”

Aunt Suzy claps her hands together when they’re gone. “I was just about to chop vegetables for a soup I’m making. Want to join me in the kitchen and we can chat?”

I force a smile, but a little alarm bell goes off in my head at the mention of food and cooking. “Okay.”

Taking a deep breath, I follow her to the kitchen. I’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t ask me to eat anything. I’m still a bit unsure about vegetables. They grow in the ground. With bugs. People and animals might have walked on them—or worse. Insects might be living inside them.

Shudder.

I finger the fuzzy edge of my scarf nervously as I follow her into the kitchen. It’s a method my therapist taught me. Some textures are soothing to touch, and it distracts me from worrying or hyper-focusing on food.

“I’m so happy Jude finally has someone special in his life,” Suzy says, pulling two cutting boards and a couple of huge, shiny knives out of a drawer and putting them up on the counter.

It takes me a moment to answer her because I’m captivated by the avocado-green kitchen appliances, and the white Formica countertop with the tiny boomerang design, just like I’ve seen in the older homes and in movies.

“Are these the original appliances?” I ask, touching the door of the refrigerator after she takes an armful of vegetables out of it.

“No, these are painted replicas. Lucky insisted we had to upgrade the appliances after the oven caught on fire.” I can’t help but laugh at the way she rolls her eyes, smiles, and begins chopping celery. “He bought the entire set for us last year. He does so much for us. He fixes things, helps us pay our bills. You got yourself a good husband, sweetheart. He’s just like his Uncle Al.” She leans closer to me and whispers, “A little rough on the outside but all love on the inside. You just gotta let them believe they’re tough guys.”

Picking up a knife and a carrot, I copy how she’s chopping, feeling a bit sad that we might be disappointing her by not being married for real. She seems really excited about the idea of an extended family.

“He’s a great guy,” I agree. “But like he said, we’re only legally married. We’re not romantically involved. He’s too old for me, but he’s been a really good friend by helping me. There’s medication I have to take. It’s nothing life threatening, but I couldn’t afford it without insurance. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that he offered to help me for a while.”