Page 98 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“Woman, no man who sees you in that dress will think of anything else while he’s slapping it tonight.”

“I’m pretty sure gay men wouldn’t blink an eye at me in this dress.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be giving a few of them a bisexual awakening.”

“You are an idiot,” I whispered because despite my protest that we didn’t have time, he pressed his body against my back and moving my hair with his chin, he pressed kisses to the back of my neck as he slowly slid the zipper up. My very willing tickle box spasmed from his closeness, his freshly showered scent, and his manly tickle rod pressing against my bottom.

“But I’myouridiot,” he whispered back while gliding the bronze fabric up my legs and over to rest at my waist. Then he slid the satin thong down until he could widen my legs. He reached around to touch me, building me up in the teasing way he and I both loved, and then we made time. We made time a couple of times.

The power of the dress. A bronze, off-the-shoulder, curve-hugging pencil dress that fell to just below my knees and had a long slit up the back. Seriously, the slit stopped just below my butt. I felt sexy in this dress. Together with my four-inch bronze pumps, I felt like a movie star. Blake requested I wear my hair down, showcasing my curls. Carl’s daughter Lola had the same dress. She and I were my mother’s bridesmaids. I looked forward to meeting my new step-sister. Because she lived eight and a half hours away, way up in the UP (Upper Peninsula for those of you not in the know), and was a college student, she couldn’t make it down any sooner.

Blake wore a gray suit, and he wore it well. White shirt. One shade lighter tie. The man wore gorgeous like a hunter wore camo.

Blake used the GPS to drive us to the location of the wedding. They’d chosen an elegant barn outside of Ann Arbor. While Blake was led into the outside garden by an usher to the front row on the bride’s side, I was ushered to the off-limits area where the bridal party convened.

My mother, dressed in a simple off-white satin gown with spaghetti straps and sophisticated V-neckline, her hair twisted up with baby’s breath flowers, not only looked beautiful, but she lookedhappy.

Carl’s daughter approached. “Lola,” I said, giving her a warm hug, “it’s good to meet you.”

“Finally,” she said, laughing. “I’ve been so nervous about today.”

“We are beyond thrilled to have you and your dad joining the family. My husband is out in his seat. I’ll introduce you after the ceremony.”

“My dad wouldn’t stop talking about how wonderful the two of you were when they went out to Vermont.”

“He talked all about how proud of you he is, too.”

Before we could get too much more small talk in, the music started and we all scrambled to our places. A happy breath left my lips as we began our walk down the runner.

All the chairs were situated under a white trellis with ivy-covered lattice decorated with flowing, over-the-top orange African daisies, blood-red garden mums, yellow marguerite daisies, sunflowers, black-eyed Susans, coneflowers, and roses in bouquets and overflowing pots.

Pen and Ant, and Sierra and… Pete? As herplus one? Time for Sierra to spill. No more of this “we slept together a couple of times.” I raised an eyebrow at her as I passed, but Sierra avoided all eye contact. A smiling Pen, however, mouthed, “I know.”

I took a moment, glancing at Carl, who beamed at my mother. Yes, he looked handsome in his black suit tux, but it washow he continued to look at my mother like she was his every dream come true. My father used to look at her like that. It hurt my heart that my father was no longer here to look at her like that, but knowing that my mother found love again, well, that made my heart full.

She handed her flowers to me, which I gladly accepted, to allow them to face each other. Carl took both of my mother’s hands in his, and he recited his vows. Then she recited hers and they were married. Another bittersweet moment because my mom was no longer Mrs. Kowalski. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how my dad, or his legacy, had disappeared at that moment. I was Gloria Parker. And my mother was now Mrs. Brown. For better or for worse.

“You okay?” Blake mouthed and I nodded, at a loss for words.

I shook my head clear in time to see them kiss and walk back up the runner as husband and wife. The next thing I knew I was swept inside the barn full of thousands of twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling, highlighting all the flowers on each table, along the floorboard, and pretty much everywhere lights could be lit. It looked magical, like millions of fireflies dancing around the room.

We ate prime rib and mashed potatoes, and I drank a Manhattan. Then the speeches began and I grabbed a glass of champagne in order to get through mine. As her only child, I felt a duty to tell the room what my mother’s happiness meant to me and how glad I was to have Carl as a part of my family now.

On the dance floor, Blake held me close as we swayed to a slow song that I didn’t know because I didn’t keep up with the latest music trends. Si, Pen, and I had bonded years ago over our old souls when it came to music—you know, those songs from the latter half of the twentieth century that nobody admitted to liking but everybody sang along to in the grocery store when the song came on overhead.

Pen, Ant, Sierra, and Pete joined us, forming a little huddle.

“Beautiful wedding,” Pen said.

“It is,” I replied.

“Your mom looks gorgeous,” Sierra chimed in. Agreed.

“How long you in town for?” Ant asked Blake.

“I’ve taken the week,” he answered, “but there’s still a lot of work to do.”

Ant nodded. “I’ve got connections too. Give me what you’ve got and I’ll get people on it. No one hurts our Gloria.”

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