“Don’t make me cry,” I requested.
“Thank you for marrying me, Katherine.”
“You’re gonna make me cry.”
The minister leaned in to us and asked quietly with a smile, “Would you like me to make it official so you can commence with your tears?”
“Please.” Holst smiled back at him.
“Shall we begin?” The minister laughed, and the entire church laughed with him.
I told the minister where the ring for Holst was and the story behind the tattoos, which he thought was “a touching story and gesture” from a bride to her groom. I didn’t know about that, but I needed him to bless the ring or whatever, and tell Holst what to do.
“Do you, Katherine Loraine Symes, take Holst Rutherford to be your husband?” We didn’t think all the “for as long as you both shall live” crap was necessary. We knew we were in for the long haul. Sickness and health and rich and poor…that was all moot.
“Absolutely,” I replied. But later, everyone would say I shouted the word with great enthusiasm, and my mother commented her shock that the words “fuck” and “dude” hadn’t made it into our vows somehow.
“And Holst, will you take Katherine to be your wife?”
“Absolutely.” He grinned.
“You may place the ring on her finger. It’s symbolism, no beginning, no end, an eternal bond and commitment of your love for each other.”
It was then Holst placed the ring on my finger, a single band of gold that was right at home with the engagement ring.
“And Holst, now I would ask that you turn your bride’s hands over.”
His ring was tied to one of the cuffs. He smiled down and began to unlace the ribbon and release the ring. He placed it in my hand as the minister continued.
“Your bride gives to you, not only this ring to symbolize her eternal and unending love, but asks that you now remove the cuffs from her wrists.”
Holst’s eyes went to mine as he gingerly loosened the ribbons, and only when he’d pulled both of them off, his ring carefully waiting on my thumb, the minister said, “You may now give Holst his ring and your gift, Katherine.”
I took the ring from my thumb and slid it onto his finger. Holst turned my hands in his own, still holding my eyes, until he moved his thumbs down the raw skin and finally looked at the tattoos. I had two ankhs, the same as what Holst wore on his legs, but on a smaller scale. He would never forget the challenges he’d faced in his life, and I wanted him to know, I felt no shame, no judgement, only solidarity, only love, and only the belief that, like the ankh, my love for him was eternal.
He said nothing, but tears streamed down each cheek as I reached up and said gently, “I love you…so much, H. Kiss me. Kiss your wife.”
“You may kiss the bride.” The minister chuckled.
Holst let go of my hands but only for a moment, only long enough to lift the veil over my face.
“My Katherine,” he whispered.
“Your Katherine,” I confirmed.
And when his lips touched mine, the taste of salty tears and the touch of our tongues, I was happy for my new life. I was grateful for the pain of my past. And I was humbled by the power of true love. Because right then, with congratulatory hoots and laughter, my heart was full, and if I hadn’t experienced the others, I wouldn’t have appreciated the enormity of the love I shared with my husband.
Tori
Now, there’s sneaky, and there’s sneaky, and people who know me, know I’m not very good at sneaky. Not only that, I’m a terrible liar. But the day I fainted when my husband proposed to me…well, that was the day I watched my best friend stomp around and overreact to each and every word a man named Holst said to her.
We weren’t exactly party girls. We didn’t just sleep around willy-nilly, but Kath was always more open-minded and free-thinking than I was. She’d been hurt and never told me why, but I knew it was something awful. Something she didn’t want to keep reliving by drudging it up and talking about it.
But she’d never acted like she did when Holst was around, and I knew he was different. He was her knight in shining armor.
Cam and I had this fairy princess and prince thing going, and it’d worked out well for us. So why not for my best friend?
Well, I got to thinking, and those thoughts were realized when I bought a pair of boots and decided that the guilt of paying so much for them would go away if I buried them deep, deep in the back of my bedroom closet.
Kath and I had been living together at the time, so I went downstairs and asked our neighbor, Terry, if he had a ladder, a small one, and told him about my ridiculous boot guilt. He said he understood completely. I went back upstairs with the ladder and began to push the long box back on the shelf. But it hit something, another box. Curiosity got to me, so I opened the box, one that had been there for a good long time by the layer of dust on it. I’d never gone to so much trouble, trying to hide things in the closet, so I’d never really looked up there before. It was an awkward spot, built into the wall, and impossible to get to without the help of a ladder.
Kath wasn’t home, so I couldn’t ask her what it was. At first, I thought it was something left by old tenants. But then I opened the special black case to find a doll. This wasn’t just any doll. This was a really expensive doll, and the case was actually her wardrobe closet…one that included a gold and cream dress.
A wedding dress.
I tried to forget I’d seen that damn doll, but then, after Cam proposed and I saw the tension between Holst and Kath…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I bought my wedding dress before I even had the groom. Well, I kinda had the groom; I had one in mind anyway.
Eventually, I secretly took that doll and her dress to the owner of Beachy Bride and creator of my own wedding gown, Lark. It wasn’t easy, keeping it a secret from everyone. But I told Lark, “It all starts with a dress. Kind of makes you want to believe in happily-ever-afters…doesn’t it?”
“Yep,” she agreed.
And now I stood next to Lark, my partner in happily-ever-after crime, who was watching over two toddlers, her twin boys who were tearing up the dancefloor.
“Do you have the doll?”
“It’s under the table.” She grinned.
“Thanks so much.”
“Who’s next?” she asked.
“I think it’s gonna be Ruby.”
“Time to bring Kath into the know,” she suggested.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
I found the box in a giant bag and went to the dance floor. “Can I steal your bride?” I asked Holst.
“Of course.” He smiled, then shouted, “Mom!”
Becky twirled her way over and began to dance with her son, who, I couldn’t help but notice was a really good dancer. Cam could slow dance, but actually dance dance…Holst was better. But I’d never tell my Brawny that.
“What’s up?” my smiling bestie asked.
“I know I said it before, but you look so beautiful.” I smiled.
“Oh, this old thing?”
She giggled as I led her to Lark and said, “Okay, ladies. Let’s do this.”
“Do what?” Kath asked, still smiling.
We convened in the sacred meeting place of women…the bathroom…and I handed her the bag with the box inside. I grinned wide and said, “Open it.”
She hefted the box from the bag, and when her hand touched the clasp on the side, her eyes went straight to mine. In a soft voice she said, “You. It wasn’t an accident…the dresses being so similar.”
I shook my head, but kept smiling. “It starts with the dress. Am I wrong?”
“No.” She smiled, but didn’t open it. “You’re not wrong. But you should keep this…for Lana. It’s gonna have quite a story, this doll.”
“You might have a girl, Kath. You never know.”
“No.” She shook her head again. “I’m having a boy. His name’ll be Jack Ryan.” She laughed and carefully caught a tear before it could mark her face.