Bobbi

Nervously, I stood and the end of the row of bridesmaids and gazed the length of the red carpet that was stretched the length of Cholo’s back yard. Peyton’s dress trailed behind her as she walked in perfect time with the music. Mesmerized by her beauty, my eyes remained fixed on her until she paused a mere twenty feet from where I was standing.

The wooden platform and Arbor Trellis that Smokey and Cholo built was breathtaking. The trellis was adorned with various species of pale pink flowers that Tate bought from his favorite florist. He felt it was the least he could do. Every breath I took filled my nostrils with a mixture or peonies, roses, and hydrangeas with an undertone of ocean breeze.

Beneath the Arbor, Crip, Peyton, and the preacher gathered.

“Before one of God’s greatest creations, and beneath his bluest of skies.” The preacher said with a wave of his hands. “Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?”

Dressed in a black tuxedo and sporting a bow tie, Pee Bee looked like a movie star. He grinned a cheesy grin and squeezed Peyton’s shoulder. “I do.”

The preacher gave a nod. Pee Bee found his place amongst the row of groomsmen. I felt like I was going to pass out. It wasn’t even my wedding, and I was a sniveling ball of emotion. I turned to face the ocean, and listened intently as the preacher spoke.

He exchanged glances between Crip and Peyton. “Nicholas and Peyton, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

“Yes, I have,” Peyton said.

Dressed in a black tuxedo, Crip was cleanly shaven. He looked handsome, and younger than I’d ever seen him. A handful of tattoos peeked out from underneath his collar.

He gave a nod. “I have.”

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?”

“I am,” Peyton said.

“Yes, Sir,” Crip said.

“Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and His Church?”

“I am,” Peyton said.

Crip grinned. “Yes.”

“Since it is your intention to enter into the covenant of holy matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and His Church.”

Crip and Peyton joined hands.

Crip cleared his throat. “I, Peyton, take you, Nicholas, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

“I, Nicholas, take you, Peyton, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.”

“Have you chosen rings to express your commitment in marriage to one another?”

They each nodded.

Smokey’s daughter Eddie handed them the rings.

With a nod of the preacher’s head, they placed the rings on each other’s fingers.

The preacher glanced at the audience that was gathered. Although I assumed everyone would be dressed in blue jeans, boots, and their kuttes, Crip insisted that everyone dress accordingly. He said he only planned on doing this once, and he expected everyone in attendance to be respectful of that fact.

Beards, goatees, and ponytails were commonplace with the two hundred or so bikers that had gathered, but everyone was dressed as if attending a church service.

“They are no longer two, but one flesh,” he said. “What God has joined, let no one put asunder.”

He exchanged looks between Crip and Peyton. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Crip lifted her veil, and they embraced in a kiss.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Navarro!”

The crowd erupted in catcalls and shrill whistles. They were the first of the remaining original six to be married, and I hoped they wouldn’t be the last.

As they walked up the red carpet toward Cholo’s house, I wiped a tear from my cheek. Two by two, the groomsmen and bridesmaids joined arms and walked behind them.

Pee Bee and Tegan.

Cholo and Lex.

Smokey and Sandy.

P-Nut and Joey.

And, last, but by no means any least, me and Tate.

After a series of photos, we shared a glass of celebratory champagne. A few deep sighs later, and Crip agreed that he was ready for the crowd. Wearing a proud smile and a new wedding ring, he took Peyton’s hand in his. “C’mon, Reporter.”

Everyone shared a laugh except me.

It must have been an inside joke.

We mingled amongst the many members of various MC’s, all gathered to pay their respects to the new bride and groom. I met Crip’s adorable mother, and his handsome but extremely stern father.

Cholo’s mother insisted on making tamales, and had prepared enough to feed the nation. Pee Bee’s mother couldn’t have been happier, while P-Nut’s mother nagged him and Joey to set a date. My father attended without hesitation, eager to meet the rest of the fellas and have a plate of homemade tamales.

After Crip and Peyton cut the cake, we gathered to share in their celebration. I hadn’t been at too many weddings, actually none that I could recall, but it seemed odd that Crip demanded that we all eat cake together.

Seated together at a long table, the twelve of us were served a plate filled with cake and ice cream. I’d already decided my diet was out the window. It allowed me to have fun without a guilty conscious during the wedding.

I savored each bite of the buttercream frosted cake. Despite standard wedding tradition, Crip insisted that his cake not be decorated with fondant. He said it tasted like shit.

As I spooned the last bite of my ice cream and cake into my watering mouth, I had to agree with him.

There was no substitute for buttercream.

I pushed my plate to the side. “That’s it, I’m done.”

Crip nudged me with his elbow. “Good shit, huh?”

“It was.”

Tate finished his and then looked at me. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“It was sooo good.”

“Seriously, I feel awful.”

Cholo’s house backed up to its own private beach. The back yard, where the wedding was taking place, wasn’t walking distance from the beach, it was the beach. Steeping out of Cholo’s yard was stepping onto the sand.

“Are you going to barf?” I asked.

“I think I need to go for a walk.”

Crip pushed his chair away from the table. “Let’s all go.”

Pee Bee pushed himself away from the table. “Let’s do it.”

Smokey stood. “Too sweet for me. I could use a walk, too.”

Cholo, now dressed in his tuxedo and a ball cap, stood without speaking.

P-Nut reached for Joey’s hand and nodded toward the beach.

Together, the twelve of us walked toward to the beach.

“Where are you headed?” my father asked as we walked through the crowd.

“Down to the beach,” Tate said. “We overate.”

“Hell, if it’s alright, I’ll join you.”

“C’mon,” Crip said with a wave of his arm and a laugh. “This ain’t a club function.”

My father hurried to my side. We stepped over the wooden barrier that separated the lawn from the sand, and everyone paused, taking time to remove their heels and shoes. Then, barefoot, we walked toward the ocean, which was a hundred feet away.

The warm sand between my toes reminded me of my childhood. The beach was Tate’s place to unwind, his place to think, and his place of serenity. He said he did all his best thinking at the beach, because he was closer to God when he was there.

I, on the other hand, didn’t spend as much time there as most Southern Californian’s.

When we reached the water, the group paused. Standing side by side, the thirteen of us faced the ocean. Tate released my hand and continued walking until he was ankle deep in the water. As the tide washed in, covering him to his knees, he turned to face me and smiled.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Much better,” he said.

I gazed beyond him, and toward the sea. The early evening sun was several hours from setting, but had already came to rest behind a patch of clouds, leaving the sky plastered with rays of sun that peeked out from behind the obstruction.

The display was magnificent.

Upon seeing it, I realized why Tate spent so much time staring at the ocean.

With my eyes still fixed on the horizon, he walked toward me. As he reached me, he glanced at each of the couples and grinned. “This is what it’s all about,” he said. “Family.”

“Amen, Brother,” Crip said.

Standing a few feet in front of me, he lowered himself to his knees and smiled a cheesy smile.

“I thought you felt better?” I asked.

“I do.”

I shook my head. “Then what are you doing?”

He cleared his throat. “Until I met you, there’s been only one place where I could find peace. Right here, on the beach. It was my proof of God’s existence. When I met you, everything changed. Now, all I’ve got to do is see you to know he exists. Your beauty stands as proof.”

It was an eloquent little speech, but it wasn’t surprising. Tate was good with words when he took time to think about it. In his presence, I wasn’t anything but beautiful, and he made sure I knew it.

I bit against my quivering lip and smiled. “Thank you.”

Still on his knees in the sand, he shoved his hands into his pockets. After scanning the group, he met my wondrous gaze.

“Are you going to get up?” I asked. “You look silly down there.”

“In a minute,” he said.

Standing at my side, my father reached around my shoulder and gave me a hug. I glanced at him and grinned, and then looked at Tate.

He’d been in the sand long enough.

I reached toward him with my left hand. “Come on. Get up.”

“Bobbi.” He inhaled a shallow breath and looked up. “In front of my family, your father, and God’s greatest creation, I want to ask if you’d bless me with a lifetime of your presence.”

He pulled his hand from his pocket. A very eloquent diamond ring was pinched between his fingers.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

My entire body began to shake. The man of my dreams was on his knees in the sand, in front of his MC brothers and my father, asking for my hand in marriage.

I was afraid if I spoke, I’d burst into tears. I glanced at my father.

He smiled and gave a nod of approval.

I looked at Tate and nodded eagerly. “I will,” I murmured. “I’d be honored.”

He slipped the ring on the finger of my shaking hand and then stood.

After kissing me, we turned to face the house. Crip slapped his hand against my shoulder and congratulated me. I quickly admired my ring and then looked up.

The entire party was lined up along the barrier that separated the lawn from the sand. Side by side, they stood, watching us. With long beards, goatees, shaved heads, and tattooed hands, they faced us, each wearing a smile.

Someone started clapping. Then, another. Soon, they all joined in. Elated, slightly embarrassed, and madly in love, I walked in their direction.

Halfway there, I took a long look at the ring. The round center diamond was surrounded by a large group of smaller ones. The stones crept down along each edge of the ring, causing it to sparkle regardless of where I looked.

In short, it was a work of art.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I can’t stop staring at it.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It took me a long time to make it.”

“You made this?” I gasped. “By hand?”

He smiled and nodded. “I sure did.”

I should have known.

In my time with TD Reynolds, I’d learned there was always a little more truth to his books than anyone would ever realize.

Or that he’d ever admit.