Saturday finally arrives. Ethan is planning to pick me up at 12:00 noon for the 1:00 wedding. I'm rushing around, trying to get ready while my mom chuckles at me. She styles my hair into a tidy updo with carefully curled ringlets popping out the back. While she's fussing with my hair, I keep primping.
"Mija, you look beautiful," she assures me as I apply yet another coat of lipstick.
"Thanks, Mamá. I just want to look perfect for our first date." "You are perfect," she tells me, looking into my eyes.
When Ethan arrives at the door, I'm stunned at the sight of him. He's wearing a pair of khaki slacks, a mint green checkered shirt with a dark brown vest over it, topped off with a bowtie. On his head sits a flat Irish derby cap. He is so adorable, I can't even look away.
While I'm trying not to drool at the sight of him, he breathes, "Wow. Sarah, you're stunning."
"I would have said the same to you, but I couldn't find my voice until just now," I tell him. "By the way, how did you manage this? We're completely color-coordinated," I say referring to my mint-green dress with the brown accents and his mint-green and brown ensemble.
"Maybe we can read each other's minds," he says, pulling me into a warm hug. Then we say good-bye to my parents and head out.
The church is lavishly decorated with lovely tulle ribbons and floral pedestals stocked with gorgeous summer flowers. The bright orange and peach hues stand out against the greenery.
"Oh, Ethan, isn't this lovely?" I whisper. He simply nods with a smile on his face. We are soon seated on the groom's side of the church. Shortly, we catch sight of Patrick and his groomsmen taking their places at the altar. Patrick looks incredibly handsome and very happy. I feel a twinge of embarrassment, remembering my slight crush on him when I first began therapy. But then I remember my own incredibly handsome man who's standing next to me. As good-looking as Patrick is, he can't even begin to compare with the man who's stolen my heart.
As the service begins, we are entranced by the music, and we all turn to face the middle of the church. The bridesmaids dressed in coral-colored dresses that bring out the colors of the flowers. The flower girl, dressed in a white gown with a coral-colored sash earns hushed whispers from the congregation. She toddles down the aisle, carefully dropping peach and yellow petals on the runner. Ethan wraps his arms around my waist from behind and leans his chin on my shoulder as we prepare to watch the bride who will soon be making her entrance.
And for the first time ever, I can see myself being the one who walking down the aisle. Sure, when I was little I thought about getting married, just like every other girl in the world. But as I got older, I never felt like I had to have that special someone in my life to complete me.
Until now.
Every moment of Patrick and Elena's wedding is perfect. They're clearly overjoyed, and I'm happy for them as well. After the newlyweds have left the church, we all begin to file out into the sunshine where they have formed a receiving line. Ethan greets a number of the groomsmen and a few bridesmaids, so I assume they must be mutual friends. But when we reach Patrick, Ethan embraces him with a hearty hug. Patrick then introduces us to his wife, Elena. She is quite lovely, with a delicate square jaw, a petite nose, deep blue eyes, and a very sweet disposition.
Patrick tells her, "This is my good friend, Ethan, and-" he looks to Ethan.
"-this is my girlfriend, Sarah," Ethan finishes, specifically so that he can introduce me as such.
"Oh, so it is girlfriend, now? Glad to hear that, man," Patrick congratulates us, and then turns to Elena. "Ethan saved Sarah's life."
Her eyes grow wide and her jaw drops as she gasps, "Wow! You'll have to tell me the story some time!"
I smile and tell her, "It's so nice to meet you. I will fill you in on the story when you don't have hundreds of guests waiting." Elena leans in and hugs me like an old friend.
As Ethan and I head to the car, I tease him, "You had to make sure to tell Patrick I'm your girlfriend, didn't you?"
"Of course," he smirks. "I've never been more proud of anything in my whole life."
"You're such a schmoozer!" I laugh.
"Schmoozer?!" He asks incredulously, opening the car door for me to get inside. "I mean every single word I say, my dear!"
I laugh as he runs around the other side of the car and gets in. We drive off to the Country Club of Lansing, where the reception will be held.
My jaw drops as we enter the splendid grounds of the country club. I've never been here before, but it's quite luxurious. I feel as if I'm spoiled just to be included in an event here.
Ethan and I make our way to the bar first. Neither one of us are big drinkers, but we both order a glass of wine. It turns out that Ethan recognizes many familiar faces from college, as well as from Patrick's family. We exchange pleasantries with several people, and with each new face, Ethan is eager to introduce me as his girlfriend.
As the pleasantries progress, I begin to tire of walking around and Ethan can tell by the small grimaces on my face. Nylons are proving to be a challenge with the prosthesis, combined with the fluctuation between the late August heat and the air-conditioning indoors. I don't want to complain but he can tell if I'm not moving as fluidly or if the prosthesis just isn't performing the way I want it to. "Let's sit down," he offers.
"Thank you!" I smile at him. "I know it's not noticeable at all, but I still feel self-conscious walking around with this leg. Even if they can't see it, I worry about people wondering why I walk so strangely."
"Well, it's a lot more obvious to you than it is to anyone else. If you take some time to study the people here, you will notice that everyone has a unique gait. You know me well enough now that if you saw me walking down a dark hallway and you couldn't see my face, you would still recognize me by the way I walk."
I nod in understanding and he continues. "See that guy by the bar over there?"
"Yes."
"Watch him. He walks like he's a beauty queen," he whispers.
I playfully smack his arm, but then I practically burst out laughing when the man walks away from the bar with a very fluid, almost feminine step. He looks like a wealthy gentleman, so it strikes me that he is probably just a snob, maybe a tad eccentric. Or who knows? Maybe he does have a pronounced feminine side, but in any case, he has a very distinct gait.
I bury my face in Ethan's sleeve so my laughter isn't obvious.
"Do you see what I mean? Everyone walks differently, so I doubt that anyone notices the subtle differences in the way you walk, or even if you take some slower, more calculated steps. And no one is staring at you...except me."
I smile and give him a peck on the lips.
After the meal and the toasts, two large French doors are opened to reveal a terrace overlooking the breathtaking grounds of the country club. The music that has been playing during dinner gradually shifts from light jazz to more upbeat, dance-friendly music. It isn't long before the DJ starts making some formal announcements and then begins the dance traditions: the grand march, the couple's first dance together, the father-daughter and mother-son dances, and so forth.
Eventually, the real dancing gets underway and Ethan looks at me. "I'm guessing you're not quite ready to give it a try yet, are you?"
I smirk and tell him, "Not unless you were planning another ER visit tonight. I think I'll just stay seated until I'm a pro on both feet." I can tell he really wants to dance, so I tell him, "Please go out there and have some fun. I'll be okay, really."
He brings me another glass of wine and then takes to the dance floor. I enjoy watching him dance around with his friends. He isn't much of a dancer, but I'm learning that with Ethan, he does everything with enthusiasm and optimism. I laugh out loud to see him and Patrick singing loudly to "Celebration!" by Kool and the Gang.
Soon a slow song comes on and Ethan makes his way back to me. But rather than sitting down again, he extends his hand to me.
"I thought we already covered this," I tell him. "I'm not ready to dance yet."
"Just come with me. I'll hold you, and I promise I won't let you fall." As I see the sincerity in his eyes, I know he's talking about more than just dancing.
I know I can trust him, so I accept his hand. We make our way to the dance floor and he immediately wraps both arms securely around my waist. "See?" He says as he begins to sway to the music. "It's not so bad, is it?"
I shake my head no. We hardly move, we just stand together and sway, holding tightly to one another. I think I couldn't possibly be happier than this moment.
When the song finishes another slow song begins and we stay completely entwined in each other's arms. I giggle a little bit when Ethan leans to my ear and sings softly along with Hero by Enrique Iglesias. But then it strikes me that, in so many ways, Ethan is my hero.
In this very moment, I know. As corny as it sounds even when I say it to myself, I know with all my heart that Ethan is the one I want to be with forever and that he will do anything in his power to love me, to care for me and to stand by me forever.
As the tears slip down my cheeks, Ethan pulls away enough to look at me. "Is my singing really that bad?" He chuckles.
"No," I whisper. "I just love you so much."
He squeezes me so tight that I can hardly breathe. We dance until the song finishes, but then Ethan abruptly asks, "Do you want to go somewhere else?"
"Yes."
We say good-bye to Patrick and Elena and head out to Ethan's car. I have no idea why he wanted to leave so quickly, but I just walk silently with him, clinging tightly to his hand.
"Where are we going?" I ask, full of curiosity.
"You'll see."
We pull out of the winding country club driveway and onto Moores River Drive, which runs along the Grand River. Not even a minute later, we pull into Frances Park, which is just down the road from the reception. Ethan gets out and comes around to open my door.
He takes my hand and we walk up to the entrance to the rose garden. The place reminds me of ancient Roman gardens with stone pillars and fountains and trellises.
"Remember our picnic?" He asks.
I laugh at his enthusiasm for everything. "Of course. It was only three months ago!"
When we get to the stairs leading up to the pergola and overlook, Ethan once again picks me up like a princess and carries me up the stone steps.
I smirk at him and tell him, "I think I could have made it."
"Yes, but it's more fun this way," he smiles and puts me down at the top of the steps. He takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the lookout, which is secured by a stone fence. The sun has already set, but the moon is bright, reflecting off the surface of the Grand River.
"It's beautiful out here," he says as we watch the lights of the Michigan Princess riverboat illuminating the water. "And I just wanted to bring you here again because I never got to do this the first time." He turns me to face him and we share a deep and tender kiss.
Ethan leads me over to the bench where we had our picnic. He surprises me with his next question. "Do you think it's too soon for us to start thinking about a wedding?"
Although I'm shocked that he's bringing it up so soon, I would be lying if I told him I hadn't thought about it yet. "Maybe," I respond, and I can tell he's a bit dejected. "But that doesn't mean I'm confused at all. I know that you're the one," I tell him, and then I look down as a bit of heat tinges my cheeks.
When I look up again, I tell him. "I'm just worried. I mean, we already covered the 'I'm not a burden' issue, but how do you feel about the fact that I'm not like you?" He stares at me with complete and utter bewilderment. "I mean, I'm not really a Christian, at least not in the way you are. I don't go to church, and I'm not as confident about this stuff as you are."
"That doesn't bother me at all," he says with absolute sincerity in his voice. "I know you believe in God. I know you have a genuinely good heart. I think you'll grow in your trust for God and your understanding of him. But I don't want to pressure you."
I think for a moment and say, "You say no pressure, but what if I stay the same? What if I never really get closer to God? Can you live with that forever?"
He takes a deep breath and then he answers honestly. "That's a valid point, for sure. I have always wanted to marry a Christian woman. I want a godly woman to help raise our children. I guess that answers my first question about whether we're ready to talk about marriage yet. Maybe I have to really consider what all of this will mean to me, long-term."
I nod in agreement. Instead of feeling put off or insulted, I find that I understand completely. I know it takes a lot of thought, work and sacrifice to be committed to someone for the rest of my life. I've learned that from my parents who have put so much effort into making their long-distance relationship work. I'm glad to know that Ethan takes marriage as seriously as I do.
When he drops me off at home, he walks me up to the door. Then he asks, "Would you be interested in coming to church with me tomorrow? Maybe you can get a feel for whether you like it or not. I don't know if it's like the church you attended when you were younger, but if you've been away for a while, maybe you'll discover something new."
I think for a moment, realizing he makes sense. "Sure, I'd love to."
* * * * *
I almost included the video for "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias, but I actually find it kind of corny, although I enjoy the song very much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!