As a teenage boy, I used to roll my eyes at women talking about their weddings being the best days of their lives, but oh my god, they might have been onto something. I mean, the day my daughter was born is right up there, but that hurt!
Like I said yesterday, I was up early, because if a regular woman has regular wedding day jitters, I was tripling down with how this is a day when people might believe the story of the Inn even without a seemingly-friendly Mackenzie there. Then I made a coffee because edgy isn't exactly the same thing as energetic, and, oh boy, I was wired when everybody - Momma Kamen, the bridesmaids, Little Moira, the wedding planner - showed up.
Because imagine every joke about waiting for a girl to get ready before a date, and then being thrown into a situation where they're not only real, but they don't go half far enough, because not only is this the date, but you're a gym girl who can do casually sexy but has to take advice from everybody else about "pretty". So I'm trying to brush the perm I got Thursday back into shape and Karla is like girl, come on, you know you're going to need product for that, and then I'm sitting still so she can put it in and do whatever she does to give it body while Momma Kamen is exfoliating my feet because I'm gonna be barefoot at some point and it wouldn't do to be the slightest bit ashy. Once that's done, folks are painting my nails white to match my dress, really concentrating so it looks perfect, which makes me feel kind of silly because I'm wearing the camisole and pajama shorts I put on after I showered.
Then the dress. Did I mention there's a corset? There's a corset. Unlike the first dress I tried with one, it's not the torture device guys tend to think it is - it's just a way to get your boobs riding high, and if it hurts it's too tight - but the first time someone tightens those laces it's like, damn, what did I get myself into? There's garters and stockings and tiny little buttons on the back, and it's all made of lace, so you feel like any sort of movement will tear it. I'm sure folks who were born ladies will laugh, saying it's tougher than it looks, but it's also pure white, which means you're afraid to touch anything, including the daughter whose namesake decided to give her chocolate when she was saying she was bored and hungry!
Then there's makeup, and I don't know about anyone else, but sitting still while someone fusses about your face or tells you to close your eyes so they can paint the lids blue feels unnatural, especially when it's being done by a "sister" who has issues with her sibling that extend long past the point where you became that sibling. Somehow, during all this, all my friends and family have changed into their own fancy dresses which are not nearly so complicated. Jordan puts my four-inch heels on my feet, and I kind of wobble as I stand up, because even though I've gotten to the point where heels don't embarrass me very often, but I'm still pretty wary about a whole day in them.
I gasp when I finally looked in the mirror. I looked amazing, the absolute best version of Krystle Kamen, and after the previous night, I didn't feel terribly guilty saying that, and not just because it was an army of women getting me glammed up. Even the parts that were unmistakably me, the climber's arms and legs that I sometimes feel make me look mannish, just seemed like the way they were supposed to be.
Moira agreed. "You look so pretty, mommy!"
Jordan leaned in. "Kind of defies belief sometimes, doesn't it?"
I nodded, and we got in the limo. I barely had time to enjoy that I was in a limousine before we got to the church and were ushered into a side room.
My father was waiting there; with Krystle's out of the picture, Momma Kamen had agreed to let him give me away. I'd initially kind of bristled at the idea of being "given away", and not just for feminist "I'm not property" or Inn-girl "I'm really a man" reasons. I'd struck out on my own to make a life for myself years ago, and wasn't moving from my father's house to my husband's. On the other hand, it was a way to involve my dad, whose eyes bugged when he saw me.
"My God."
"I know! It's crazy! But here we are!"
"Here we are." He stiffly offered an arm, and I pulled my veil down before taking it.
The organ started, and my bridesmaids filled out after Gabriel's little cousins who were serving as ring beater and flower girl. They paired off with the groomsmen, except for Little Moira, who I gather was a little ham, directing her glance all over the church and waving at everyone she knew.
Then the music changed and it was our turn. The aisle seemed miles long with everyone looking at us, and I did almost stumble a couple times. As I mentioned last week, there were a lot more of Gabe's folks in the church than mine, which did maybe make me feel a bit more like I was being "given away". Eventually, we got to the altar, and my dad presented me to Gabe, saying he couldn't have any idea what "this girl" meant to him, before going back a couple rows to sit with Mom.
I'd meet the minister a couple days earlier, and he was a nice older man, formally retired a couple years ago but occasionally officiating for folks like Gabe who had attended his church when they were younger but who didn't have any connection to his replacement. He didn't make me feel diminished or like an interloper, which I would occasionally see happen in our church back home. Our vows were pretty close to the standard (no "obey"); I had made a go at writing my own but as you might imagine, I always felt like I was leaving important pieces out when telling our love story. Even saying we re-connected during the pandemic when others were coming apart seemed like too big a lie to speak in church, to me.
At last the "I Do" bit came and I said it with surprisingly little hesitation. When he slipped the wedding band onto my finger, it felt different from the engagement ring, a tiny handshake that doesn't let go rather than a weight. I'd wear jewelry more often if it felt like that.
Then came "You may kiss the bride", and, folks, have you ever been kissed on the mouth in a spot made for everyone to be looking at you? Not just in public where you don't care if people see you, but where people seeing you is the whole point? It's pretty heady; I don't think I even heard everyone cheering and stomping their feet until I came up for air!
There were pictures, then, and then the reception, and I've got to admit, last night is sort of a blur. Gabe's best man made a really nice speech, and Karla did not feel the need to list all the ways this life had been self-sabotaged before I inherited it, which was nice for Mackenzie, I imagine. Gabe did wonder who the white girl in Dominic's seat was, and I don't even remember what sort of explanation I gave. His cousins liked her, though, especially when they discovered the redhead could dance.
So much dancing! One of the groomsmen said I had dancers' legs from all my time in the gym, but even those start to get sore after a couple of hours where everyone wants to dance with the bride. It went on well past my daughter being ready to drop, but apparently the kids being brought up to their rooms and being put to bed is the point where everyone can leave their heels on their seats and bop around in stockings or bare feet.
Eventually, even Mackenzie and Gabe's best man were ready to give up. Gabe came to the bridal site with me and waited on the bed while I touched up my makeup and got out of my dress to reveal the lingerie underneath. I walked out to display myself to him and he gave a big, relaxed smile. I crawled on top of him and we started undressing each other, kissing and caressing until we were making love.
I'm pretty sure I haven't had sex without a condom since that first time - immediately getting pregnant while you still think of yourself as a guy makes an impression! - and while it wasn't night and day, it felt a bit different, especially when we came and I could really feel it inside. It felt so good, and it just generally feels good to feel safe doing it because I trust him to be there for me no matter what.
After that, we slept practically until check-out time, barely having time to dress (in t-shirt, yoga pants, and slip-on sneakers) and pack before heading down for brunch. That was nice, but chaotic, though it was kind of nice that it was mostly my friends and family, since they were in the hotel and Gabe's folks were all home or at church. That meant there was some of what Zee might call "Inn-uendo" floating around, but not too much - Mom and Dad really aren't great with being reminded that Jordan was also a guy once upon a time, and Mackenzie flew home without saying goodbye - and it was fun to kind of hold court for a while, saying hi to everyone before they got on their flights and headed home or, like Jordan and Momma Kamen and us, to their next stops.
Indeed, I'm writing this from mid-air, on our way to our honeymoon in Cape Verde! Gabe's made a plan for being up and on the right time when we arrive that involves sleeping pills and caffeine, and maybe it will work, but Jordan's got more experience with international travel and she says to power through until you are exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as your head hits a pillow at 10pm local time and then wake up refreshed at a reasonable hour the next day. Momma Kamen will be staying at the house and making sure Moira gets to school for a week, probably spoiling her rotten, but I'm really looking forward to just being with Gabe for that time.
-Krystle Marie Kamen Potts!
1 comment:
Congratulations!
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