Jesse and I got married four months later.
We wanted to have it in Memphis, but both of us liked the idea of doing it on a dock like the one at the lake house, so we tried to get the best of both worlds. We held it at a friend's house that had a pond with a dock and some beautiful property on the outskirts of Memphis.
It was truly a fairytale event.
Everyone went out of their way to make us feel like we had been born to be together—chosen to find one another.
Nana had another copy of that picture of Jesse and me, and as a wedding gift, she had an artist make a painting of it. Our family didn't just accept our decision to get married, they acted as if it was an event they had been anticipating—even Jane fell in love with the fact that we ended up together.
It was a perfect fall afternoon, and we had about a hundred people present at the wedding. Pa officiated the ceremony, and he told the story of his dream. He also spoke about finding my father on his doorstep in a broken-down, old Easter basket and how amazing it was that God could weave such a complicated, beautiful story to bring us together.
We had the ceremony by the pond, and the dinner and reception were held in and around the house. It was catered, and there was music, and some people stayed inside while others went out on the patio area. I was overwhelmed by the love and support, and I felt like I was walking on air until the moment when everything came crashing down. This happened in the form of Barrett, who crashed the party in devastating fashion.
One moment, we were having fun and talking to guests, and the next, one very wasted Barrett came into the house with two other guys.
I didn't recognize the guys he had with him, which was odd seeing as how Barrett and I had been together for over a year, and I knew all of his friends.
Barrett came in making a speech while the two others went directly to the table and started eating straight from it without bothering to get a plate. There was palpable tension in the room, and all of the men present stood on edge like they were ready to tackle the intruders if necessary.
Jesse was standing right next to me when Barrett started causing a scene, and I reached out and held onto his arm. He strained against my grasp, but I knew he could easily get away if he wanted.
Jesse was six feet tall with broad shoulders, but Barrett was a giant—absolutely huge. I could see the scary, empty carelessness in his eyes as he crossed the room staring straight at Jesse and me. Barrett was saying something sarcastic about not being invited to the wedding, but I couldn’t really hear him because I was so dazed and out-of-it.
"Wait here," Jesse said, patting my hand.
I pulled him back to me. "What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Hit him," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
I stared at the side of my husband's face even as Barrett continued to come toward us, still talking.
"Don't get hurt," I pleaded.
Jesse gave me a quick, reassuring smile before turning and taking a few steps toward Barrett.
They had an exchange—a heated exchange with four or five back-and-fourths, and the next thing I knew, Barrett jumped straight onto Jesse. I had been so utterly shocked that it wasn't until after Barrett made the move that I realized Jesse had invited him to do it.
What ensued was a huge fistfight.
I rushed toward them, yelling at them to stop, but my dad caught me by the arms. I strained against him, but somewhere deep inside I was glad he was holding me back. Jesse and Barrett had an extremely violent interaction with wrestling and swinging of fists, and I had no idea what I would do even if Dad let me go.
Barrett had been giving me trouble in different, more discreet ways, since we broke up, so I knew in my heart that Jesse was happy to have an excuse to hit him. They rolled and exchanged blows, and I secretly felt gratified in watching Jesse defend my honor—especially since I could tell that he had the upper hand.
Jesse got to his feet, but Barrett grabbed his ankle, trying to trip him and pull him back down. He held on for several shakes until Jesse got fed up and kicked, jabbing his foot into Barrett's side. Barrett let out a yell and released his grip enough for Jesse to regain his footing.
Barrett's friends tried to come to his defense by jumping Jesse, but other wedding guests restrained them. Barrett was a huge man and an athlete, but Jesse had the upper hand during the whole fight, so no one had tried to jump in and break it up. Jesse took a step back, daring Barrett to do any thing else, but Barrett hung his head as if he knew he'd been defeated.
I couldn't even believe what I had just seen.
A fight. There was a bloody fistfight at my own wedding—one that resulted in a table being turned over and a huge mess.
For five or ten minutes there, a real sense of panic and urgency took over the room, but just like that, it was over. My dad called his friend who was a state trooper. He came out with his lights on to reprimand Barrett and his cohorts for trespassing and destruction of property. We didn’t press charges, and the whole thing was a bit of an act since the officer just came out with his lights on as a favor.
I wished it hadn't happened at all, but the only saving grace was that Jesse won the fight. He was hurt and bleeding, but he clearly won the fight.
Our reception was already wrapping up when the interruption happened, so by the time we all recovered enough to laugh about everything, it was over.
Jesse and I left the wedding site before everyone else, and they threw rice, at us before we drove off on a motorcycle with tin cans attached to it. We drove to our hotel room in downtown Memphis, which had already been set up and was waiting for us.
We stayed the night in a suite at The Peabody in downtown Memphis, and I felt like the queen of the world as I sat in the middle of the king size bed, staring at the human being I loved more than anything.
I had on white cotton pajamas. They were casual but feminine with a little lace trim. My roommate had gotten them for me, and I was glad she had because they were comfortable and cute for a bride on her wedding night.
Jesse still had on his suit from the wedding—all but the jacket and tie. He stood at the foot of the bed, slowly taking off his vest and then his thin dress shirt. He smiled at me as he dropped them on the floor. And, in the same way I did when we were out on the dock, I hid behind my own fists in sheer anticipation.
Jesse had on a tank top undershirt that was so tight and barely there I could easily see the rows of muscles underneath. He got on his knees on the end of the bed, and then slowly began to crawl toward me. His green eyes glowed, reminding me of some predatory animal. I had been so entranced by his eyes that it took me a second to catch sight of the cut—a little gash right at the top of his eyebrow, close to his temple. I followed his jawline to see some scrapes on his jaw. There was also the start of some bruising. I stared at the side of his face as he got closer and closer, finally hovering very near.
I reached out and ran my finger near the cut on his eyebrow. "Baby, you got cut," I said. "Are you sure you don't need stitches on this?"
Jesse cut his eyes to the side like he was trying to see the abrasion even though he couldn't.
Calling Jesse baby and having him act like that was normal gave me a thrill, which only intensified as he sat right next to me on the bed, pulling me into his lap. I settled in Jesse's arms, taking his face in my hands, and turning it so that I could look at his cut again.
"Is it still bleeding?" he asked. "I thought I cleaned it up."
"It's not bleeding, but it's open. Your dad looked at it, didn't he? What did he say about it needing stitches? It seems deep."
Jesse turned his head a little so I'd stop fretting over it. "Rose, you know I wouldn't trade this cut for anything, right?"
"Yeah, but I seriously might still want to see if they have some tape, Jesse. I think we could at least tape it closed."
"Rose," Jesse said, getting my attention again.
I made eye contact with him, and his mouth lifted in a slow grin. "That fight was honestly the best wedding present I could have asked for," he said, shaking his head. "Honestly, he's been running his mouth for so long that I've been praying for him to come pick a fight with me. I've actually been hitting bags and praying fervently for God to let him do something like that."
He was mostly teasing me, but he kept a straight face, which made me smile. I just held his handsome face. "I can't believe you defended my honor right there in front of everyone," I said, egging him on.
"It's unbelievable," Jesse said. "And then he went on and tried to pull me down again after I was letting him up, so I got to kick him again. It was the stuff dreams are made of."
I cracked up at that. "I'm glad you have a good outlook about it," I said. "I thought the wedding ceremony was the stuff dreams were made of, but I was thinking it went downhill during that part."
"Went downhill?" Jesse asked, pulling back, and looking at me with a completely serious expression. "Baby, didn't you see me out there? Right hook to the body, right hook to the face…"
I leaned back, stretching toward the bedside table where I picked up the telephone. I had to stretch with both hands to reach the receiver and press the button, and Jesse held me steady so I didn't fall off the bed.
"Who are you calling?" he asked.
"Downstairs," I explained with a whisper as the phone rang.
I was still laid out to the side, stretching toward the phone, and he smiled down at me with an amused smirk, waiting to hear what would say.
"Hello, this is Mrs. Bish—"
I had to clear my throat.
I wanted to just come out and say the name like was no big deal, but the word lodged in my throat. I felt like I wanted to cry when I said it.
"Mrs. Bishop," I finally squeaked out, squinting at Jesse and daring him to laugh at me. "Is there anyway I could get some medical tape? Or at least a bandage?" I glanced at Jesse. "My husband's got a cut. He had it before we checked in. I'd like to tape it together. Is there any way we can get a first aid kit up here?"
"Yes, ma'am. Someone will be right up to your room with that."
Five minutes later, someone brought a state-of-the-art first aid kit complete with things we would never need, like a hypothermia blanket and a snakebite kit.
I had two little brothers, so I had seen my dad make a butterfly bandage out of tape. I took my time prepping the tape and applying it to Jesse's cut so that my tiny bandage would hold the skin together perfectly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and I stood between his legs. Jesse's arms were around me, holding me securely to him as I administered the bandage. He was looking to the side so that I could get a good view of the cut. I studied my own handiwork, thinking it would heal up nicely as long as we kept it taped like this.
I turned his face with my hands, forcing him to look right at me. I could see little piece of tape covering his cut, and it made him look tough. I smiled at him, letting my fingertips gently explore his cheeks. Because of the way he was sitting and I was standing, Jesse's head was positioned lower than mine. I leaned down and kissed him.
"That cut looks tough on you," I whispered close to his mouth.
He squeezed me.
"Have I been a good nurse, Mr. Bishop?" I whispered. "Because we here at The Peabody hotel always strive for excellence."
Jesse stared at me, unblinking for a few long seconds before he said, "This is the best day I've ever had."