The Wedding Part II
I couldn't breathe.
It felt like it, at least. The pounding in my ears was so loud, I was having a hard time hearing anything other than the sound of the blood rushing through my head.
The familiar strains of the wedding march spilled out into the now empty hall and I sucked in a breath.
Breathe in... breathe out...
"Ready?"
I looked up into my father's eyes and nodded, dazed. He took my hand and slipped it into the crook of his elbow.
Breathe in, breathe out... my heart thundered away in my chest.
As we began the slow-paced trek down the aisle, everyone turned to stare. I heard the gasps and the exclamations. Saw the tears. I felt the blood pulsing in my face and for a short, terrifying second, I felt the hem of my dress catch beneath the toe of my heel. But Dad's arm was steel beneath mine and I steadied myself in the nick of time.
Then I looked up. And Ryan's eyes met mine.
"I love you," he mouthed.
"I love you," I moved my trembling lips to form the soundless words.
We'd reached the altar. Dad turned to me and I gave a teary, startled laugh when I realized that he was crying. There was love in his eyes, and sadness and happiness and hope and even fear. I felt my heart ready to burst within in my chest – but the only bursting was that of the salty, wet kind, and as the tears streaked down my face, Dad kissed me, whispered "I love you, honey," in my ear, and put my hand in Ryan's. Shaking, I gave a little half-sob as Dad turned away, and then I was looking up at Ryan. He suddenly seemed so tall, so handsome, so perfect in every way – for a split second, I felt like I was looking at him for the first time, and I couldn't breathe. Those burning blue eyes were gazing into mine, that large, warm hand was wrapped around my clammy, white one, and inside my chest, a love I didn't think was possible, much less one that I could call mine, blazed like fire, right down to my stomach, so strong, it almost hurt.
And suddenly, I wasn't scared.
I wasn't scared of being married. I wasn't scared of leaving home.
Because wherever Ryan was, there would be my home.
~ * ~
I couldn't honestly say I remember the following ten minutes. Later, when I watched the recorded ceremony, I was relieved to note that I said all the vows correctly. Yes, I was red. And my voice was horribly shaky. But at least I said, "I do," and not "I dued. I mean, I DO!" Which is what I said the night before. (I'd never live that one down: Ryan alone managed to keep a semi-straight face while my entire family dissolved into hysterical laughter and I nearly burst into tears.)
By the time we got to the reception, I was having so much fun, I almost forgot all about my prior het-ups. I kept running into old relatives that we hadn't seen since Lauren's wedding and old friends from Long Island. Every single one of them made some sort of reference to how handsome Ryan was, and then asked when we were planning to start making babies.
"And the honeymoon? Where you going?" One of Dad's distant Puerto Rican cousins, an older, overweight woman, squeezed my hand and twinkled up at me, her mouth stretched into a toothy, suggestive smile.
At this point of the evening, after answering it tens of other times, I'd grown immune to the question. I didn't even blush.
"We're touring Europe." I mumbled. It sounded so pretentious – touring Europe. But Dad had gifted us an abnormally huge sum of money as a wedding present, and because everyone knew how much I wanted to travel, they thought we should go to Europe and spend a month or two traveling. I couldn't deny it, I loved the idea. It was just weird to tell other people about.
"Oh, oh, how nice," she patted my hand, nodding her head. She had an accent... I struggled to place a name to her face, trying to remember those long-forgotten Christmases from when I was little and we'd visit family members in Brooklyn to eat rice and gandules and platanos; but as hard as I tried, I just could not remember her name. "And you have de babies, no? Lots of babies. Very beautiful ones, because you husband, you know, he's very guapo." She smiled encouragingly, nodding towards Ryan. I glanced at him, trying to hold back my laughter. He was about fifteen feet away, talking to an older woman, who looked identical to Diane, his mom, and – as if he sensed us watching him – he turned slightly, caught my eye, and winked. I smiled.
"Yes. He's very guapo."
"Ah!" She exclaimed, delightedly, nudging my hip. "You speaky the Spanish, verdad que si?"
"A little," I flushed, and the woman was all grins as she turned, flagging down another nameless, distant cousin; suddenly, my hand was arrested.
"Can I steal her away?" Ryan's eyes twinkled down at the two cackling women and they were all preening, flirtatious acquiescence.
"Ah, yes, your beautiful wife, you steal her away from us! To makey de babies!" The second woman pronounced, waving a hand in the air. I blushed this time, as everyone and their mother heard that one, and as every guest within a thirty foot radius burst into laughter, Ryan pulled me away.
For some odd reason, I thought he was shaking with anger but when he finally turned to look at me, he was laughing.
"What do you say, Maureen? Shall we jet off now? 'To makey de babies?'" He leaned down to nuzzle my neck and I was pretty sure I was every shade of red known to mankind.
"Shut up!" I tried to push him off of me, but he just laughed harder, squeezing me closer.
"You know you want to," he teased.
"Ryan."
"Mmm?"
"I'm sorry I have to tell you this... it's just-" I let my voice tremble a little.
"What?"
"I'm barren."
"You're what?"
"I just found out. And I didn't want to tell you here; I was going to wait until after we got on the plane, it's just – the doctors, they said there was no hope, it's partially hereditary – which sounds crazy, I know – but it's almost like I've had a hysterectomy, that's how impossible it will be for me to ever conceive..."
Ryan stared at me, his eyes searching mine suspiciously, as he waited for the punch-line. I bit my lip.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Wait." His voice sounded strange. "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This isn't funny, Maureen."
"I know."
"But..."
"So I was thinking... we could adopt?" My voice sounded feeble and weak. Ryan seemed speechless.
Then his face twisted, as if it was finally sinking in.
"Of course we can, if that's what you want," he suddenly enveloped me in his arms, his grasp tight. "You should have told me, but it doesn't matter – we'll make it work, they have surgeries for these sorts of things-"
I know it wasn't funny; it was a terrible joke – but he set himself up for it.
I was shaking with silent waves of laughter. He almost instantly realized, and pulled back, his expression dumbfounded.
"Maureen," was all he could say, at first. I'd never seen him so taken aback.
"I'm sorry!" I could finally give into the laughter overcoming me, and I did so, guiltily.
"You scheming, manipulative, underhanded little-"
I threw my arms around his neck, recklessly kissing him for all I was worth. He was still protesting against my lips, but I made a quick end to that, and then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back.
I was dimly aware of the fact that we were in a crowded ballroom of a hotel, and there were other people around, but I didn't think anyone noticed, and besides, I was too consumed with Ryan to care. When we finally broke apart, I laid my cheek on his shoulder.
"I should get you mad more often."
"Mmm. And why is that?" His voice was deep in my ear.
"Makes you a better kisser," I drew back quickly, awaiting the explosion. He eyed me incredulously – before realizing I was teasing him.
"Kidding?" I grinned.
He pulled me back against him, shaking his head. "How much have you had to drink tonight, Maureen?"
"I'm not drunk."
"Well, it seems like it."
"What? Do you regret marrying me now?" I said flippantly.
"I am so regretting marrying you right now."
"Hey," I protested.
"Kidding," he whispered wickedly and his hands suddenly snaked around my waist. And, then, unbelievably, he was tickling me.
"No, you psycho," I hissed, grabbing at his hands. Now I was sure there were people watching us, and trying to keep a serene smile on my face, I glowered at him through my eyeballs – as I frantically worked to keep his fingers from my ribs. He laughed quietly, his eyes locked on mine.
"Payback, my sweet, little wife," he murmured and I tried to squeal quietly.
"Don't you dare!"
"Ryan."
Diane's voice sounded heavenly. I shoved him away, smirking gleefully, and he shook his head.
"I'll get you later... tonight," he suddenly grinned, and as my cheeks flared with heat again, I shot him a baleful look of reproach. He knew that would shut me up.
"Ryan," there was something in Diane's voice that made it all fade; we both looked at her, surprised. She'd appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and whatever trembling disquiet had been in her voice was written all over her face.
"What is it?" The playfulness was gone from his expression, almost as if it had never been there to begin with. She shook her head, lifting a hand to her throat.
"I just... have to tell you..." Whatever she said next had the color draining out of Ryan's face. I hadn't heard her though – it almost like she'd said 'your author's here.'
"What did you say?" I asked, drawing closer to her. She shook her head again.
"His father... is here."
Father?
Bewildered, I looked at Ryan. He was staring at his mother, a fixed, frozen expression on his face.
"Are you serious?" He finally said, his voice hollow.
"Yes... he's there, he just showed up, over by the drinks table..."
Ryan's face jerked up, his gaze boundless as it searched the crowded room. Suddenly, his eyes stopped, zeroing in, and before I could stop him, he'd pulled away and disappeared into the throng of people gathered on the dance floor.
"I need to sit down," Diane said, and I tore my gaze away from Ryan's retreating form to help her into a chair.
"I don't understand, I had no idea he was coming," I said, snagging a glass from a passing waiter.
"I didn't either," she kept shaking her head, and I had to force her to take a sip of the cold water. "After so many years... I haven't seen him since before Lacey was born..."
I rubbed her back, sick with worry.
Why had Jonathan come? Sure, we'd sent him an invitation – it was the right thing to do and Ryan said he didn't care either way: he knew his father wouldn't show. Sure enough, we never received a reply, and I'd dismissed it from my mind.
But this. This wasn't expected.
"Lacey. Where is she?" Diane asked suddenly.
"I'll find her; just stay here and don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
I left her there and started searching the guests surrounding me for Ryan's small, red-haired little sister. I looked first for my siblings – because she would invariably be with them.
As I quickly strode through the hall, I kept my peripheral gaze locked on the drinks counter. I couldn't see anyone that remotely looked like Ryan standing there – but there were dozens of male guests gathered around and he could be any one of them. I couldn't see Ryan either, and that had me worried.
"Sam! Have you seen Lacey?"
My sister shook her brown curls out of her face. "Last I saw, she was playing with Timmy. They were with Mommy."
"Okay, thanks," I ruffled her hair and hurried on. Next, I bumped into Justin – who I hadn't seen since before the ceremony.
"Hey, stranger," he said, holding his cup of punch away from my dress.
"Justin, I'm looking for Lacey. You wouldn't have happened to have seen her?"
"She's with Cara, playing on her phone or something. Hey, where's Ryan? He isn't attached to your hip; how odd," he quirked an eyebrow, and I made a face at him.
"Funny. Listen, go find Samantha and keep an eye on her; she's wandering alone."
He rolled his eyes, but went after her anyway.
"Maureen, where have you been? I've been looking for you forever!" My mother grasped me by the hands, smiling happily. But her smile quickly faded at my expression. "What is it? Did something happen?"
"Oh Mom, Ryan's father is here, and he's gone looking for him, all upset, and I'm trying to find Lacey because Diane wants her and Justin said she's with Cara – have you seen her?" It all came out in a big jumbled mess.
But Mom wasn't easily daunted. Taking me by the arm, she steered me towards a cluster of chairs in the front of the room, where my family was gathered.
I was greeted with a chorus of "Maureen!" and I waved half-heartedly. David jumped up and ran over to grab me by my skirt, chattering about juice and dessert and was I really moving away and could he have my piece of cake if I didn't want it. I nodded, shot him a quick, conciliatory smile, and looked back to the group, searching for Lacey. With a wave of relief, I spotted her red hair, peeping out from behind a chair.
"Lacey, sweetheart, come here, Maureen's looking for you," my mother called. Lacey's head whipped around and her blue eyes lit up.
"Maureen, guess what? I won the next level of Candy Crush!" She exclaimed, leaping up. Cara got up with her.
"It's confirmed. She's addicted."
"That's great, Lace, but listen, your Mommy really wants you, so go give Cara her iPad and then come with me, 'kay?"
Lacey's forehead wrinkled. "Okay. Here, Cara. Thanks."
"Sure," Cara said absently, but her eyes were on me, curious. What's up? They seemed to ask.
I shook my head. "Later," I mouthed.
I grabbed Lacey's hand and we hurried across the humongous ballroom. By this point, my feet were starting to hurt from all the traipsing around in heels.
"Maury." It was her latest nickname for me.
"Yeah, Lace?"
"Is everything okay? You seem kinda upset."
"Yeah. Everything's fine... it's just..." Gosh, what do I say? Your dad is here. Yeah, the nonexistent one you never met. That one. "Your mom just wants to talk to you," I said lamely.
"Oh."
We finally reached the table. Diane was standing up now, and she was staring off into space, her eyes locked on some distant, unseen object.
Or person.
"Diane?" I called her and she jerked around. Her eyes turned relieved.
"Oh, honey, come here," she opened her arms and Lacey was quick to run to them.
"What's wrong, Ma?"
"Nothing, baby, nothing... I just wanted you near me."
Lacey was confused. I could see it in her eyes. But I shook it off. It was up to Diane to say what she would. My work here was done.
I had to go find my husband.