They Have Each Other

Staring into the mirror, my only thought was, girl you look so damn good today. My wedding dress, yellow to signify the transition from childhood to adulthood, flowed down around my body, flaring out at the bottom. Dark hair, slightly curled, fell on my bare, olive tone shoulders. A flowered crown with an green base and small yellow flowers, that perfectly matched my dress, seemed to be the final touch that brought it all together. That woman in the mirror was mesmerizing. 

“Zaagi!” My best friend snapped me out of my daydream with her nickname for me she had used for years. 

I turned toward her while keeping my eyes on the mirror as long as possible. “Yes?” 

“It is time,” she said. “Are you ready for this?” 

I took a moment to take in her look. Misty blue dress with a flowy A-line and thin straps that hung on her as if she was born to wear it. “Are you trying to steal my spotlight?” I reached my hand out to her and pulled her towards me. We stared into the mirror to admire ourselves. “I am not sure we will ever look this good again.”

“Speak for yourself. You are the fool getting married today,” she said with a smile and several poses in the mirror. “This body is going to keep thrilling the people for a long time.” 

“Inaa,” my nickname for her, “you are ridiculous.” I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. 

“Hair,” she said. 

I held on anyway. “I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“You can’t do anything without me,” she said as she turned to the mirror and fixed her hair. “Now look at me.” She ran her fingers through the ends of my hair a couple times. “There.” After one final look she said “it’s time, he’s waiting.”

I had dreamt of my wedding day for most of my life. So the day James entered my life, I thought he might be the one. He was cute, funny, and easy to talk to. His sandy blonde hair, a little too long for his face, hung clumsily down, and brushed against his cheeks. We flirted and dated, on and off, for a few years. He finally asked me to marry him and I joyfully said yes. 

“Am I ready?” I asked Inaa, but the question was more directed at myself. My eyes came back into focus on her. My rock. She had pulled me through so many of the valleys of the past few years. The peaks seemed few and far between, but it was nice to have her here for this one. 

“We talked about this,” she said with her half smile where she only lifted the left side of her mouth. “James is a great guy.” Her eyes seemed to peer into my soul to look for confirmation. 

“Yes he is,” I responded with a sigh, “but you know that is secondary.” I turned toward the mirror to pretend to fix my hair. “You know why I am doing this.”

“Of course, Zaagi.” Her eyes met mine through the mirror. “Of course.” 

Getting to engagement had been a challenge. People from my land didn’t ask people from his land for their hand in marriage. I had dropped so many hints on so many occasions. I started to doubt whether James would pick up on any of them. He did do a good job once he figured it out though. Under a bright red sky, with the two moons hanging close to the horizon, he presented me with an eagle feather. Then he presented my mother with a traditional blanket to be used during the ceremony. 

“Namakadizo,” she stated in our native language. The translation, stand up straight. It is a phrase we use to help each other. “This is the plan. Now is the time. You will do this today.” 

Hearing that word reduces my hesitation. I stand a little straighter, pull my shoulders a little up and back, and look into my own eyes. “You are getting married today.” My eyes grow a little wider. “You, are getting married today.” A smile and raised eyebrows from my own reflection even looks back at me.  

“That is it Zaagi.” 

“James is a good man and you are getting married today just as you have always dreamt of since you were a little girl.” I turn toward my Inaa, “thank you.” I go to hug her again, but she stops me by placing her hand on my sternum. 

“I just fixed our hair.” I place my left hand over hers and give a small squeeze. “Now let’s go get you married so you can claim what has always been your destiny.” 

James has always called me by my given name, Kateri. My mother tells me the name is derived from a famous woman from our land’s history. He says he loves the name as it is beautiful and unique. The boy has not spent much time with people from my region. So many mothers want their daughters to grow up to be the next Kateri. I guess I always call him James. No nickname. No cutesy couple name for us either. What would it even be? Kames? Jameri? My mother has told me the same story since I could walk. A story about destiny, and how to claim it. This singular vision for my life has directed every decision thus far. Chasing one’s destiny is one thing, claiming it is quite another.  

Inaa and I walked out of our dressing room arm in arm. The sun hung high in the faintly red sky. Dozens of our closest friends were gathered and seated, waiting for your’s truly. Streams of light, yellow to match my dress, arc over the seating area. A path opened down the middle of the guests and flowed with waves of blue light that danced from side to side. Flowers floated at various heights everywhere. James stood at the front and waited for his Kateri. 

I had warned him about the wedding. He sat and listened, as he always does. His eyes got wide as I slowly revealed more about the ceremony. The traditions, the lights, and all the visuals that seemed foreign to him. To his credit, he rolled with it. For him, his destiny unfolded this day with me. I sometimes wished mine could be so simple. 

“Zaagi,” she said again. “It is time to walk.” Zaagi translates to a verb in our native language, to love or to treasure. She has always treated me in a way that earns the nickname. I gave her a long look as we held each other’s hands. 

“There is no other person I would want to walk me down this path.” Her half smile was the only response I needed. Slow and small, our steps toward destiny carried me over the dancing blue light. 

Faces of family and friends stared back at me. I squeezed my right hand to try and hide the trembles. Inaa held my left hand steady. James stood at the front. He held the blanket and waited with a wide and over the top smile. Both sides of his mouth stretched up so high it almost looked painful. 

As I stepped into the circle of light at the end of the aisle, a few steps away from James but in front of all the onlookers, Inaa started to walk towards the other bridesmaids. I grasped her right hand so tight she couldn’t let go. She moved in closer and whispered in my ear, “Zaagi, it’s time.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. 

I whispered in her ear, “Wiidigemaagan.” The full nickname I had given her so many years ago. In all that time, I had never even said it out loud. One translation is partner or cohabitant. Context is everything though and another translation is spouse.

One night, years ago, James and I had gotten in a fight. This was before he asked me to marry him. He said he felt like Wiidi always came first, that he felt second to her. I never shared with anybody that he wasn’t even second on that list. But, to claim my destiny, I dedicated the next few days trying to convince him that he was the most important person in my life. It was the last time he shared that he felt that way. I am sure that there were other times he felt it but maybe he just accepted my relationship with Wiidi. 

Wiidi looked into my eyes as she pulled out of our embrace. “You know what you need to do.” Her half smile punched a small hole in my heart. 

My destiny lay with the man standing a few steps away. Marriage would bring magical powers bestowed on myself during the ceremony. This started centuries ago in chosen families. It is all I have focused on for years. I tore my eyes away from my best friend and took a few steps toward James. My left hand held onto Wiidi’s hand. Our hands lingered before gently sliding apart. 

James beamed and said “Are you ready?” His mouth slowly lowered as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” I whispered. “Just emotional.” I looked over at my mother, who was wrapped in the traditional blanket. She took in deep breaths as pride rolled off of her. I turned to Wiidi. My everything. 

“Are you sure you want to get married,” James asked. 

My whole life had led to this. “I do.”