ERIC

“Feels like the groom gets none of the glamour,” I smirk to Ben as we stroll down the porch steps into our grandparents’ backyard. “What am I complaining to you for? You got married by Elvis in Vegas!”

He snorts, “Not by Elvis, fucker.”

“No?” I tease him with a push. “Might as well have. But it looks pretty good out here huh? All those added strings of lights. Where’d they get these chairs from?”

Gabriel strolls up the aisle to us, rows of wooden, white folding chairs adorned with red roses on either side. “I know, right, these are a lot more than we have at the BBQs.”

Ben and I start humming, Here Comes The Bride at the same time.

Gabriel cocks an eyebrow. “Fuck off.”

Ben grins while I laugh, “You’re pretty enough! Wanna get hitched? First cousins used to be okay, right? Maybe it still is somewhere?”

Our rockstar cousin drags his right hand through his hair, bracelets sliding under his black blazer. “You wish. Plus, have you seen my wife? Hey Paige!” he shouts across hundreds of people to the pretty brunette he loves. She waves from where she and Shelby, Ben’s wife, set down covered dishes of food for our guests. “Did you know she’s teaching Grams yoga?” At our reactions, he grins, “It’s true! Private sessions, not at the studio we bought. She drives to Grams’ Senior Living home.”

With an appreciative nod, Ben slides his hands in his pockets. “We all agree Grams has to live forever, so I’m for anything that keeps her healthy.”

My brother walks up, “I feel naked without my daughter.”

Eyeing him I dryly say, “Don’t use those two words together in the same sentence.”

“What two words?”

Gabriel and Ben simultaneously fill him in, “Naked and daughter.”

Ethan winces. “You guys are sick fuckers you know that?” He smacks my tuxedo, “Your buddies are calling you. Come on.”

I glance to my cousins and ask, “You guys okay alone?”

“Fuck off!”

Ethan and I take off, laughing to ourselves. “That was pretty good,” he mutters.

I glance over to see my cousin Elijah talking up my teammate’s regular girl, Kimberly. Mott won’t like that at all.

“Yo!” I shout to get his attention.

Handsome as hell, but with shorter hair than Gabriel—they are twins but couldn’t be more different—Elijah flicks a what-do-you-want-I’m-busy look at me. I slice my hand across my neck. “Taken. Don’t go there.” He ignores me.

Snake.

“Let it be,” Ethan smirks. “They’re over here.” We head around the side of the great house.

My smile returns as I’m heralded by my two groomsmen, Mott and Tony, my dad, and grandfather, all of them lazily rolling Cubans in their fingers, spending lazy time blowing smoke rings above their satisfied heads.

“What’s this…cigars?”

Grandpa Michael lifts a small box from a gap in the fence, and offers me one. “Shhh…this is only for us men.”

I eye him, then my brother. “Did you smoke one of these before your wedding?”

Without a hint of guilt he grins, “Sure did.”

“You withholding piece of shit!”

“Language!” we hear Grams call from the heavens.

All six of us turn in circles, looking for her. Then Grandpa looks up and nudges Dad’s arm. “Jake, look.”

We all do.

And there’s May Cocker with her head out the window of the upstairs bathroom. “I see you, Michael! You’re a bad boy!”

“Mother, get down from the toilet! Stop spying on us!”

Waving her hand she rolls her eyes. “An old woman has to find her fun somewhere, doesn’t she? Oh, don’t worry, I won’t tell. But watch your mouths! God is listening!” She disappears and we all stand very still to make sure she didn’t fall down. “I’m okay!” she calls out.

* * *

The team, their wives or girlfriends—those who have them, anyway, Coach, the owners of the Falcons, Carla and Mike from O’Neal’s, plus everyone else we followed the whim to invite, are in their seats. Wren’s band came and have been flirting like crazy with my Cocker cousins. My aunts and uncles are here, all except for Uncle Jett and Aunt Luna, and their daughter Sofia Sol. She’s gotten into some trouble and they got stuck cleaning up the mess…or making it worse. You never know with them.

Dad’s cousins who live in our sister city, Savannah, and their kids, came over, too. My second cousins—is that what they’re called, it gets fucking confusing—they’re all our ages though we didn’t grow up close to them. Good people.

I’m up here with my cousin, Max, Uncle Jason’s oldest. He got ordained as a minister to marry us.

“You ready to throw away the key?” he smirks.

“You’re next, buddy.”

He sobers up. “Not me.”

“Yeah…that’s what I said.”

The music starts and Mott leads Emma down the aisle. Tony guides Charlie up next. Behind them, waiting, is Eleanor and my brother. I ignored Ethan’s demands to walk his wife down because the Best Man and the Maid of Honor come down together. I didn’t want to jinx my future because he’s in love, but now that I’m watching the odd pairing, and seeing Dion puffing up in his chair, alone, it’s pretty comical.

“I know why you’re laughing,” Ethan grumbles as he comes to stand at my side, hands clasped in front of his crotch.

“Because you look stupid in a penguin-suit?”

“Har har.”

The pianist, a friend of Uncle Jason’s, pauses before starting the song I’ve been waiting for. Everyone stands and twists to see Wren standing with her father, a quiet man with laughing eyes, at the far end of an aisle covered in red rose petals. Had to represent my team, but we stayed away from black, both of us, just for this one day.

I swallow and straighten up, smoothing my tux-jacket as I whisper, “Wow.”

My brother whispers, back, “You’ll remember this forever.”

“I believe you.”

She and John slowly make their way here as everyone gazes with admiration for her smile, her dress, the curls in her hair and the way it’s pulled back under a veil that falls to her breasts, modestly covered but propped up by a corset. I’m a fan of it all, especially of the soul inside the package.

John holds my eyes, tips his head and hands her off to me, but his grip lingers for a second, and that tiny show of love is what makes Wren’s eyes turn liquid.

She hugs him and I hear her whisper, “I love you, Daddy.” He embraces her, closing his eyes and nodding. Sometimes that’s the best a man can do.

And it’s enough.

I offer my hand, forever, and the moment our skin touches I take a deep breath and realize I’d been holding it. She smiles at me and I shake my head, “You’re beautiful.”

Max conducts the ceremony with the respect I knew he’d give it, despite his snarky comment. When we get to the vows he pauses and motions for me to go ahead.

Wren and I lock eyes and the audience disappears. “Wren, since I met you I’ve become a better man. You bring out the good in me. I laugh more. I try harder. I’m me…but better. I vow from today on to be your best friend. To love you. Take care of and protect you. If you ever get Poison Ivy again I’m ready with the chamomile bathwater.”

Laughter from our family and friends, but I don’t break. I meant that as a metaphor for any illness that ever comes our way.

“From here on out I’m yours and you’re mine. Nothing can come between us. Being your husband will make me the happiest man I’ve ever been and you’ve ever seen. I love you.”

A tear drifts down her cheek under the veil and she closes her eyes a second, struggling to overcome the lump in her throat. I know it’s there, because I have one, too.

“Eric, my everything, sometimes when I wake up I’m afraid you won’t be there. Only because it doesn’t feel possible to be this happy with one person. Your smile makes my heart sing. If I could give the world anything it would be for everyone to be loved like I love you. Separately we’re flawed but together…we’re perfect. I love you and vow from this day forward to make you happy until I die. And I have to go first.”

The crowd laughs, and you can tell by the sound that every one of their hearts is cracked wide open.

Max guides us through putting on the rings. “I now pronounce you, husband and wife!”

Lifting the veil I gaze at her. Wren gives me a wink and I pull her in for a kiss that inspires applause so loud the police show up eleven minutes later—the neighbors filed a noise complaint.

But that’s what we Cockers do. We push the envelope, tear down the box people say we should live in. And when we get married, we mean it. Which means there’s gonna be a party.

* * *

After we’ve had our fill of the best food you’d see at any of our Family BBQs, including Grandma Nance’s famous chili and that fresh ginger ale we all want the recipe for, Wren and I take the dance floor. It’s a wooden rental complete with twinkle lights in every corner and a canopy, just in case. You never know in Atlanta what kind of weather you’re gonna get.

The intimate space overflows with everyone we care about as I slowly dance with my wife. “Never thought I’d do it, huh? Get married?”

“No,” she laughs. “But to be fair I never wanted you to. This wasn’t a dream of mine.”

“Oh no?” I ask, eyebrows lifted.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mmm,” I hum in agreement, kissing her. “Guess you can’t plan true love.”

From out of nowhere, but a surprise to nobody here, a crack of thunder makes the dance floor jolt, followed by a flash of light through what used to be a clear sky.

Wren’s eyes go large, almost like she was hoping for a storm.

Curious I ask, “You want it to rain?”

“There are some people who believe rain during a wedding means babies are coming.”

“You have something to tell me?”

Sliding her fingers into my hair she smiles. “Yes…I want them with you.”

Relaxing a little, I assure my bride, “Oh, you’ll get them.”

She makes an amused noise, half-scoff, half-laugh. But then her smile fades. “Were you hoping I was pregnant?”

Shrugging I start to lie, but think better of it—not exactly a good way to start a marriage. “A little. I’m not in a rush, but I’ll relish the day you tell me our family is growing.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

That’s what I told her at the time because I didn’t have a better answer then. But later I realized that my very large, very rowdy family has taught me a lot and given me more love, more laughter, than anything else ever has. Not school, not football, not Super Bowls, none of them compared to knowing someone has my back no matter what.

Trust.

I want my kids to trust me as completely as Wren does now. She confessed later that while she was emotional during the ceremony she was never scared to be my wife. That made me proud. Every day I want to live up to the hero she sees me as.

And I want my kids to see me the same way.

With enough luck they’ll not only see me as a hero, they’ll become ones themselves. That’s all a dad can strive for. That and making his wife, their mother, smile. I’m addicted to those laughing eyes…

THE END.