Carried Away
I don’t know what it is about this wedding, but I am swept away by the raw emotion emanating from the crowd and the couple. This is the stuff of legends and fairytales. This is what my sister has, what I aspire to. Unchecked, a tear escaped down my cheek and I wipe it away. There’s no lonelier feeling than being around true love.
The ceremony starts and soon enough it’s time for the vows, which the couple has written.
“I never believed in love at first bite until your dog chased me down the street and took a chunk out of my calf. Dexter’s no longer with us, but I have to believe it was all part of his grand plan to bring us together,” the groom starts. “Thanks, Dex. I forgive you for the eight stitches.” The crowd laughs. “Since then, you’ve given me seven of the best years of my life, Amy…” Taking a deep breath, tears begin to fall down his face. The bride, tears in her eyes too, reaches out and wipes them away for him. And in turn, he kisses her palm.
“Loving you has made me stronger, kinder, wiser, and more patient,” he continues, voice shaking. “You’ve taught me that love is bigger than time and space, more powerful than cancer, and more enduring than anything in this world. And whatever we face, whatever life has in store for us, I vow to make you laugh when you feel crappy. I vow never to hold it against you when you yell at me about leaving the wet towel on the carpet. And I vow to take every step of this journey with you as long as I live.”
“Ladies room?” one of the wedding guests asks me.
It snaps me out of spell. “Down the hall on your right,” I inform her with a smile.
Physically and emotionally drained, I yawn again and lean against the wall at the edge of the room for support. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house after the bride finished her vows. Even Nan, hiding in the wings, looked on the verge of crying.
From what I’ve been able to gather from eavesdropping on some private whisperings is that the bride has been battling cancer on and off for the last three years, and she’s in remission now. Here I am, feeling sorry for myself when other people are really suffering. It’s a stark reminder to be grateful and count my blessings.
The band is playing a horrible cover of Celebrate! Somewhere Kool and the Gang is cringing. The bride and groom don’t seem to mind though. They slow dance while chaos reigns around them.
“Where can I get a drain snake?”
I look over my shoulder and find Jake standing close enough touch. Seeing him makes my breath catch. This is not a good sign. I am way too into him already for this to end anyway other than badly for me.
He’s in his painting clothes. An old Henley shirt streaked with color, his gray sweatpants, and Timberlands. The only addition is a beat-up Bears ball cap with the rim pulled low.
He looks me over, his open gaze roaming down my bare legs to my high heeled booties and back up to my face.
“You look nice.”
My face nearly splints in two by the sheer force of the smile that compliment elicits. “What do you need a drain snake for?”
“Shower.”
“I can send one of the guys––”
He shakes his head while his gaze remains on my mouth. “No. I’ll do it.”
I’ve learned not to waste my energy arguing with this man and motion him out of the room and into the hallway.
We get only a few feet when I spot Sean coming from the opposite direction. His eyes narrow on me, rake up and down my body. Surprise grows on his face.
“Pizza Face?” he nearly shouts, grinning widely.
My heart stops. For a single solitary suspended moment, it stops beating in shock and shame. Then it races ahead. I honestly never anticipated hearing that name ever again.
My feet follow suit, abruptly halting in the middle of the hallway. Jake almost runs me over. He comes just short of it by bracing onto my shoulders. Then he back’s off. Way off, it feels like. Because a cold chill runs up my spine, the absence of his body heat noticeable.
This is it. This is what I’ve been dreading all along and it’s happening in front of the one person I want to impress, the one who thinks I look nice, the one man that thinks we have chemistry.
I’m finally close to getting the boy I want. I can’t be Pizza Face in front of Jake.
While Sean walks up to us, I am paralyzed with fear. I can’t even look over my shoulder to gauge what’s going on with him. I’m not strong enough for that right now.