"What's got you so entranced?" the lady next to me asked.
It was Mrs. Foster, the one who had come up from behind me and greeted the handsome stranger—the one he had been waving at. I glanced at her. She was roughly my mother's age, but she was nothing like my mother. She oozed money. I could see it in her white teeth and designer attire, and smell it in her perfume.
"All of it," I answered with a smile, feeling oddly comfortable. "It's just so beautiful."
I had never been a fan of wasting time. I hated worry, and I had wasted precious moments of my day fretting over my mom and then getting wound up over the guy at the entrance and the fact that I had embarrassed myself in front of him. The truth of the matter was that if he wasn't so nice-looking I wouldn't have cared if I had mistakenly waved at him. I had done much goofier things in my life and not given them a second thought.
So, I made the decision, right then and there, that I would flip a switch, forget about my worries or failures and just be myself. I was at a wedding in an aquarium tunnel, after all. It seemed mandatory to have fun.
A few more guests trickled in, and those of us who had already arrived talked amongst ourselves and enjoyed the view as we waited. I stared into the water, but I could feel the lady next to me gazing at the side of my face. Her husband was speaking to someone else who had come in and was now standing on the other side of him.
"Have you ever been here before?" she asked, seeming intrigued by how closely I was watching the fish.
I glanced at her. "No ma'am. I keep meaning to see about planning a trip for my class, but I forget about it."
The truth was, meeting Abigail at the park to feed the Koi was a low-cost alternative to the aquarium. A free alternative.
"Are you a teacher?" she asked.
"I am."
"What grade?"
"High school. Juniors and seniors."
"Our daughter-in-law is the principal at Eastbrook," she said.
"I work at Riverview," I said.
"Aw."
I glanced at her, not quite sure how to take that. She gave me an expression that said she thought I must be really kindhearted for working at such a place.
Sure, maybe compared to Eastbrook, Riverview was on the wrong side of the tracks, but I certainly didn't consider my teaching there to be a service to the community. I loved working there—loved my students and colleagues. I had true school spirit for the Riverview Rams, and went to as many sporting events as I could. We had good coaches and athletes, and the games were always exciting. I wouldn't leave even if another school paid me more money. Okay, maybe I would if they offered me a lot more… but it would have to be a lot.
I was feeling like telling the lady what was on my mind, but I settled for an internal eye-roll as I again stared into the water. Several long, silver, menacing-looking fish swam by, and I watched them, feeling mesmerized by their sleek appearance.
"Killers," she said.
"Ma'am?" I asked.
There was lots of talking, so I couldn’t quite hear her. I thought she had told me what kind of fish they were, but I couldn’t be sure.
"Killing machines," she said, gesturing to the fish, who were still in a group nearby.
I was relatively sure they weren't really named killing machines, so I asked, "What kind of fish are they?"
"Barracuda."
The second she said it, I heard the intro music of an electric guitar in my head.
"Like the song?" I asked.
"I'm sorry?"
"Did you say they were Barracuda?"
"The fish, yes," she said, again gesturing to the group of sharp-looking fish.
"Like the song," I said again.
I clearly heard the intro of the song at the first mention of the name, and it had been seamlessly playing in my head since.
My mom and Aunt Regina were total classic rockers. In fact, they both still rocked heavy bangs that verged on the brink of being classified as mullets. They especially loved women rockers. Joan Jett, Pat Benatar, Stevie Nicks, and Janis Joplin were all on constant rotation in my house growing up. My mom particularly loved Ann Wilson, and I must have heard the song Barracuda a thousand times—maybe a million.
I had a high-pitched singing voice that was similar to (though not as good as) Ann Wilson's, and my mom would get the biggest kick out of watching me belt out her songs. Those living room concerts helped us have some good times in what was an otherwise rough patch in the years after my dad left. I used to get dressed for the part and totally ham it up, which would make her laugh. It made my cousin extremely jealous, but I never cared. I had fond memories of giving concerts in the living room, using a wooden spoon as a microphone.
I smiled at the memory as I gazed at the real-life Barracudas. The song was still playing in my head as I went through this sequence of thoughts, and without even thinking, I sang a section of the song out loud. I didn't sing it loudly enough to cut through the murmuring crowd, but I did sing it loudly enough for the lady next to me to hear.
You lying so low in the weeds,
I bet you want to ambush me,
You'd have me down, down, down, down on my knees,
Now wouldn't you, Barracuda?
"Hey, I know that song."
I turned to find Tim Foster leaning over the rail so he could stare at me past his wife.
He gestured into the water. "You sang it for the Barracudas?" he asked, looking amused and impressed.
I nodded and smiled at him. "I didn't know they were Barracudas till your wife told me."
Mandy Foster looked proud of herself for teaching me something, but still slightly confused, like she had never heard that song before.
"Who sang that song?" Tim asked.
"Heart."
Only, I wasn't the one who answered.
The deep, male voice came from behind me, and my head whipped around to see who had spoken. Of course, it was the perfect specimen. He had been on the other side of the tunnel, and had just come to stand behind me.
"Or is it Blondie?" he asked, tilting his head at me.
"Heart," I said, my voice cracking. "It's H-Heart."
I glanced over his shoulder with a reluctant expression. "Could you hear me from way over there?" I asked.
He grinned, and I felt a pang of longing at the sight of it. Even in the dim lighting, his smile was bright. He was tall and broad—the definition of a good-looking, well-dressed man, complete with the light, clean smell of fine cologne.
I blinked as I waited for his answer.
"Barely," he said. "I saw you looking at the Barracuda, so I put two and two together when I heard a piece of that song. Were you the one who sang?"
"It certainly wasn't me, Lance," Mandy said with a hand to her chest.
I wasn't sure how to take that, but when I looked at her, I could see that she was smiling like she meant she wasn't capable of singing so well.
"She sounded just like the song," Tim agreed.
"Could you do it again," the handsome one asked. He seemed serious, as if he was sincerely interested in hearing me sing it again, right then and there.
I let out a little laugh. "Probably. But I'm sure it sounded better from over there," I said jokingly.
It was at that very moment that the lighting changed in the tunnel. The families of the bride and groom came in the way we had come, standing between us and the curtain. The good-looking one (whose name, I had learned, was Lance) shot me a somewhat regretful look before heading back to his place on the other side of the tunnel.
My attention was focused on the end of the tunnel where Ash and Abigail's parents had come in, but I could see Lance from the corner of my eye and knew he was leaning over to speak with some people on the other side. I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about me. I wished he was. I wished he was telling them he had a new appreciation for classic rock. I wished he was telling them he was in love. From the corner of my eye, it looked like one of them was a gorgeous woman. For all I knew, she could be his wife or girlfriend. I was too afraid to glance directly at them.
Once the parents of the bride and groom were settled in their places along the walls, an archway of strung lights came on in front of the curtain. It was only one or two strings, really subtle, but they were tiny, different, cool-looking lights that seemed to come out of nowhere like actual stars. It was understated and perfect. Anything more would have taken away from the beautiful water universe that surrounded us. Ash and the minister both came around the curtain, talking quietly to each other as they found their place under the archway of lights. It was simple and beautiful.
Then, with no preamble, the music began. It was a slow song with a piano intro, and my heart began pounding as everyone peered toward the other end of the tunnel.
Abigail, wearing a simple white dress and walking on her dad's arm, emerged from the darkness. The lyrics to the song combined with the sight of Abigail and her dad walking slowly down the aisle caused tears to spring to my eyes. I knew all the words to the song even though I had never heard that rendition of it.
It was I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers—only it wasn't their version. It was a slow, acoustic, heartfelt cover, and the touching tune mixed with the familiar lyrics had me struggling to hold back tears. I saw Abigail catch sight of Ash standing under the sparkling lights. She smiled at him, not taking her eyes from his as she walked.
My eyes blurred with tears. It was dark in there, and I was mostly focused on Abigail, but I noticed the movement as people on the other side wiped their eyes. The sight of other people crying always made me cry, and I glanced into the water on the other side of the tunnel just to distract myself. I blinked, but my eyes were watering, so it took me a few seconds to clear them. I focused on a fish that was swimming by. I didn't know what kind it was, but it was big and oddly shaped with fat rolls, and it did the trick with helping me to stop crying.
I went to focus on Ash and Abigail, and as my eyes shifted, I glanced at Lance. He was looking at me, and my gaze locked on his. The corner of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible grin as he unabashedly stared at me. I smiled at him before getting too nervous and shifting my gaze to something else.
By the time I looked at him again, which was a few seconds later, he had focused on Ash and Abigail. While I was glancing that way, I did, however, get a better look at the beautiful young woman at his side. They weren't holding hands or otherwise making contact, but she was standing right beside him. I couldn't say I was surprised.