Claire and Billy

     The kissing stopped as she looked up at me and asked, “Are you doing anything next weekend?” Trying to maintain the mood, I responded, “Hopefully hanging out with you.” I went in for another kiss but felt her hand push up against my shoulder. Time to stop, I thought.             

             “Would you like to come with me to my sister’s wedding?” The surprise of this questions stopped me in my tracks, but I tried to play it cool. We had only actually hung out a few times and she’s asking me to go to a wedding with her?

             “Wow,” I told her. “A wedding. Does this mean you’re ready to introduce me to your family?” I asked in a flirty, sarcastic tone. She turned away from me, crossed her arms and muttered “Never mind, it’s stupid. Forget I asked.” I instantly felt guilty and put what I hoped was my comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay Claire,” I said, “I’ll go with you.” She smiled and the kissing continued.

             I’m not much for weddings, but when the next weekend came, I showed up in my best suit. This suit didn’t see much time out of the closet. It was a painful remnant of a life I left long ago, but it covered the tattoos and made me look refined. I knew when I met Claire, she was a good girl who had no business being with someone like me. I was nervous to meet her family because I wasn’t planning for this “relationship” to carry on much longer. Claire had commitments as the Maid of Honor, so I showed up to the church awkwardly alone. I felt a rush of heat through my face as childhood memories haunted my mind. My eyes took in the expectedly beautiful decorations, the flowers, the people milling about in their best clothes. My mind resisted and wanted to flee, but I forced my body to stay. I went to find a seat in the back, and I caught a glimpse of her. My body relaxed at her site. She came closer and I was happy to see her. Her hair was meticulously in place, her dress hung effortlessly around her, and her smile beamed highlighted by bright pink lipstick. She was obviously excited. We embraced and I watched her smoothly walk away in her high heels. She had to go get ready for the ceremony, she said.

             My body eventually fell into rhythm with the soft, airy music as I flipped through the program, determined to not make eye contact with anyone. After some time, the crowd grew quiet, and everyone shifted in their seats; the processional was starting. The bridesmaids and groomsmen paraded down the center aisle paired up wearing complementary outfits. Claire made eye contact with me as she walked by, the layers of her dress floating in her wake. Then everyone stood and the bride made her entrance. With everyone else in the pews, I was swept up in the grandeur of this event. I saw the groom catch site of his bride and I can honestly say I felt the power of love in that moment. As the ceremony wore on, old, repressed emotions began to bubble up. I knew what love was once, true love, but the tragedy of life ripped it all away. Tragedy was followed by years of isolation, addiction, and instability. Claire didn’t deserve my damaged goods. I was jealous at how perfect everyone at this wedding seemed to be. It ultimately was what I wanted, but I couldn’t see how it was possible for me to have it.  The minister’s words influenced how I recognized these feelings and past hurts, but I honestly don’t remember a word he said. Before I knew it the couple had exchanged rings, had their ceremonial kiss, and headed back down the aisle for their grand exit beaming with joy and pride. Following the cue of all the other guests, I stood and clapped, but my mind was still racing.

I made my way to the reception hall and recognized my buddy Jake was bartending. Thank god I thought. “What’s up man?” I said as I approached. His smile lit up, “Hey, Billy! What are you doing here?” He asked as he began making my favorite drink.

“Oh, I’m here with the bride’s sister.” I replied. My friend raised his eyebrows, “Alright!” he encouraged. “How long has that been going on?”

“Oh, just a couple weeks.” People started trickling in for the cocktail hour.

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, what else have you been up to?” Jake asked as he pushed my drink in front of me.

“Oh, you know,” I said with a shrug. “All the normal things. I’m still working at the restaurant. The dog is still alive. I don’t know, not much has changed.”

“So, you and this girl, is it serious?”

“Well, she invited me to come here so…” I shrugged, not quite sure what else to say about me and Claire. Our relationship was still so new, that even I didn’t know how to judge what our future held. I felt a gentle hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and smiled at Claire. Her happiness was contagious, and I let myself feel it. “See ya later, man,” Jake said with an encouraging nod.

“How are you doing?” Claire asked me. I paused before answering to assess my state of mind. “You know,” I said. “I can honestly say I’m doing pretty ok.” Her smile grew wider.

“Good,” she said, grabbed my hand and started leading me, assumingly to her parents’ table.

“Mom, Dad, this is Billy.” I put on my bravest smile and stuck out my hand to shake theirs. They nodded, expressed their greetings in unison, and we sat down. The small talk began. I spoke when I was spoken to, kept my answers short and vague, but satisfying. Claire and her mother occasionally chided Claire’s father for off-handed, crude comments and jokes. I felt a fun connection with him.

Somewhere between the ceremony and the couple’s first dance, I became overwhelmed with emotion. My heart and mind began to grieve and heal at the same time. I didn’t know how to express it out loud, except to get up and dance with my beautiful date every time she asked and learn from her as she expressed her own love, with her family, her friends and with me.