47
Kyle’s Joy
THE MORNING OF THE WEDDING was a cold January Wednesday, which made no sense to anyone except those in the wedding party. Midnight mass would be even more special this week. The residents of the retirement community were deep into the preparations and had turned out to be wonderful coordinators. Many of them had sons, daughters, and grandchildren who were willing to provide services or help out.
Kyle still had not shown a single soul her wedding dress, and Livia was a little worried. Would fashion-forward Kyle strike a pose in some crazed, super sexy version of a runway gown? Offering no clue at all, Kyle did her makeup and hair at home wearing a baggy sweatsuit. Livia was also coiffed—and dressed—long before the sunset. Kyle insisted on doing Livia’s hair early, and it looked wonderful, but the curls were crispy to the touch. After dinner, the girls and their contrasting ensembles piled into Livia’s Escort for the ride to the church. Kyle had at least said she was planning to change into her dress there.
When Livia parked in the church lot, the slow-moving caterpillar of angels from next door was already swinging and rocking the way forward to the church. Livia and Kyle blew kisses and curtseyed to the clapping that ensued when the seniors spotted them. Wednesday night seemed to be celebrating its unconventional use for a wedding. The stars blinked like Christmas lights and wintry air smelled of crisp snow—although thankfully the weather had stayed clear, eliminating the need for a whole lot of shoveling. The trees were stark and bare now, outlined against the night sky.
Loaded down with cardboard boxes of flowers and a garment bag holding Kyle’s dress, the girls made their way inside. Once they’d deposited their goods, Kyle requested to dress in private, so Livia led her sister to the “crying room” at the back of the sanctuary. Livia closed the curtain over the wide glass window that separated the room from the rest of the congregation, then closed the door quietly behind her. Her sister would don her mysterious dress in a space that usually kept noisy babies from disrupting a worshiping crowd.
With Kyle tucked away, Livia began her inspection. The pews had little bouquets of lilies tied with gossamer slips of fabric that connected each one to the other—like a train, Livia instantly thought. The candles flickered, and the wood shone from the Pew Crew’s tireless ministrations.
Blake pushed open the door by the altar. His rented tuxedo was crisp, the bow tie perfectly straight. Livia stopped and let the sight of him evaporate her common sense.
When his eyes found hers, he placed a hand over his heart, as if it might stop again. “You are so lovely,” he said.
Livia wrinkled her nose and blew him a kiss. Cole poked his head through the door as well and ruffled his brother’s hair.
When he spotted Livia, he hollered, “Is she here?”
Livia nodded but kept her eyes on Blake. Cole, usually calm, now seemed to be bouncing like a rabbit and dragged Blake back through the door. The guests had started to trickle in, and Livia knew it was time to help Kyle. She knocked on the door that sequestered her sister. She waited and knocked again. Nothing.
“Kyle, enough with the secrecy. I’m coming in.” Livia opened the door, entered the room, and shut the door in one spinning motion so no one else would see in.
Livia turned to face her sister, who was admiring her reflection in a framed full-length mirror. Kyle smoothed a short blue dress.
“It’s time to get dressed. Can I help? Is the dress very complicated?” Livia stepped forward so she too was reflected in the mirror.
Kyle bit her lip and looked at Livia in the mirror. “This is my wedding dress.”
Livia raised her eyebrow and waited for some explanation. This was the dress Kyle had picked for her to wear on the night of the revenge partying. It seemed an odd choice.
“I was going to wear this dress when Mom came back,” Kyle finally said. She ironed the material again with her hands.
“Kyle, Mom’s not coming back. She’s not going to show up here today. I’m sorry.” Livia rested a tentative hand on her sister’s shoulder.
“I know. I know she’s not coming. But I’m going to wear this dress to start my life with Cole. I’m this person now.” Kyle clenched her fists.
“Wait. What?” Livia turned her sister to face her. “The dress doesn’t change who you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride, but you’ve always been this person. It’s not that you didn’t earn a mother, it’s that Mom didn’t earn you.” Livia waited until Kyle looked her in the eyes. “Do you understand that?”
Kyle nodded. “Thanks, Liv. You look great too.”
Livia smiled and busied herself with the bridal accessories. “Well, that dress gets a lot of things out of the way.” She lifted Kyle’s headdress of fresh flowers from its box. There was no veil.
Kyle gave her a questioning look as she clipped the blossoms in place.
“Something old: the dress. Something new: your attitude. Something borrowed: I’m pretty sure you got those earrings from my jewelry box.”
Kyle rolled her eyes.
“Something blue: the dress again. The last thing we need is this.” Livia slipped off her shoe and turned it upside down until a penny fell in her hand. “This bad larry comes pre-warmed.”
Kyle kicked off her high heel, and Livia dropped the copper piece into the shoe. There was loud knock on the door.
“Ladies, I believe I have a job to do.”
Their father’s gruff voice made them smile. “Come in,” they said in stereo, like they had when they were kids.
Livia watched her father’s policeman’s entrance, as if a room that held chirping girls was harder to face than an armed robber. He gave each of them a nervous smile and said nothing about Kyle’s unconventional dress. Perhaps her delicate beauty or the emotion of his little girl getting married blinded him, but Livia had a feeling her dad just knew when to keep his mouth shut.
Livia patted his shoulder. “It’s time.”
The bells in the steeple began to reverberate through the very foundation of the church. They wouldn’t normally ring them so late at night, not wanting to disturb the neighborhood, but tonight was special. Twelve full-bodied tones notified the town that something spectacular was about to happen.
Livia dared to peek out of the crying room and into the foyer of the church. It was empty. She nodded at her sister and waved her little family out of the room. Her father waited with an awkward arm crooked for Kyle’s hand.
The first strains of organ music filled the church.
Blake. His playing brought Livia a wide, warm smile. The music was supposed to be reverent. It was supposed to slow the world down for prayer. But Blake infused hope in his music. Love was the only song he knew how to play.
Livia faced the crowd. She commenced her slow, practiced step-together-step march. She felt like she was onstage without knowing her lines. All eyes were on her, and really, she just wanted to crane her neck to see Blake’s hands on the organ.
She focused on smiling at the guests as she passed. Dear Bea gave her a wink, and Eve stood on Ted’s right, looking effortlessly exquisite in a black A-line gown. She seemed to tip her sparkling hummingbird brooch toward Livia as she passed. And there was Nurse Susan, looking beautiful in a silvery dress, rather than her usual scrubs.
As Livia finally completed her journey, Blake switched to Mendelssohn’s traditional wedding march. Cole came through the altar door and assumed his spot next to Father Callahan. He nodded at Livia and watched the door where Kyle was about to make her appearance.
The door swung open, and Kyle and her father stepped into the archway. Livia heard a gasp from the crowd. In the middle of a classic church wedding, Kyle’s blue dress was shocking, simple, and entirely casual. But one look at the bride’s face should have obliterated any other considerations. Her smile was unadulterated joy. She almost hopped between steps. Her father looked pained and proud as he walked her down the aisle.
When Kyle was finally firmly in front of the groom, John held out his hand. As Cole shook it, the men had the most important conversation in the world without saying a word.
John stooped to give Kyle a kiss on the cheek. Kyle held her hand out to Cole, and for a brief moment their hands didn’t touch. The tiny sliver of air between their palms seemed to contain the energy of an entire universe. But when his hand eclipsed hers, instead of an explosion, there was only calm. Only peace.
Livia set down her flowers and scurried over to the spiral staircase and up to the organ. As Blake put the finishing touches on the march, Livia lifted her long skirt and ascended the stairs. Blake nodded at the newly appointed, and seemingly rather nervous, church organist and motioned to the bench for the changing of the guard.
With his shaky replacement in position and continuing to produce sound from the organ, Blake turned to descend the stairs and join the wedding. His eyes widened when he found Livia waiting, still holding her dress out of the way of her feet. She motioned for him to join her as she began walking backward down the stairs. Blake had been doing well for the past month, but he still became winded and a bit dizzy at times. Livia was taking no chances.
He looked amused as he placed his shiny dress shoes on each stair as she vacated it. The church organist slammed her way into a little improv, providing some filler so Blake could get to the altar. Livia looked at Blake and tried not to burst out laughing.
“What exactly, my love, do you think you’re doing?” Blake looked down at her.
“These stairs make me nervous. I just wanted to make sure you got down them okay.” Livia felt silly now. He was obviously fine. Their slow spiraling dance actually made her a little dizzy instead.
“And if I trip like the delicate flower that I am?” Blake asked, drawing near.
“I was hoping I would break your fall, if you fell…which you won’t.” Livia stepped backward again. The edge of her train caught under her heel, and her careful steps stuttered.
Blake reacted swiftly, grabbing her around the waist and righting her balance in one smooth swoop. He held her close and used the railing to keep them steady.
“Oh. Damn.” Livia pressed against his chest as she caught her breath. Instead of keeping him safe she was about to break both their necks. The organist decided to drop some vocals on the captive crowd.
Blake stilled even though they should have been rushing at this point; everyone was waiting. “Livia, I’m going to be okay. You have to believe it.”
The nape of his neck was just inches from her lips. The only things stopping her from tasting it were red lipstick and one hundred pairs of eyes.
“I’ve always believed it.” Livia tilted her head so she could see him.
Blake held his lips close to hers. They were lost in each other until Kyle had enough.
“Get the hell down here!” the bride shouted. “You’re stealing my thunder.”
Livia could hear Bea’s distinct laugh over the organist’s shrill rendition of “Closer My God to Thee.” Blake transported Livia back to her spot next to Kyle, and Kyle slapped Blake’s shoulder in greeting. Cole and Blake executed a subtle tattoo touch.
The wedding proceeded, and the ceremony never veered from the time-honored, familiar words. The well-practiced clergyman rarely consulted his prayer book. His homily was filled wonderful advice about patience and listening to one another. When it was time for the promises in front of God, Cole repeated his vows in a voice well-practiced at filling the whole room. Kyle’s words were quiet, small, and for his ears alone. They exchanged shiny new wedding bands.
Communion took forever, and the guests chatted quietly as everyone was served the sacrament. Cole and Kyle looked anxious and wildly in love.
Blake held out a hand to Livia, who felt like she was cheating on an exam as she took it.
“I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered. “The candlelight, the dress, the curls.” He pressed a reverent kiss on her forehead.
Livia inhaled his cologne. Maybe he’d borrowed Cole’s, and the warm scent made Blake a present begging to be opened.
By the time Father Callahan had concluded his work, he had to hold up a hand to quiet the crowd. “I do believe we have a bit more business to attend to.”
After a gentle round of snickers, quiet blanketed the church.
The crowd knew what was next, and although there was no sound, the anticipation itself was shouting.
“I present Mr. and Mrs. Cole Bridge. You may kiss the bride.” Father Callahan gave Cole a nod of approval.
Cole faced Kyle and wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her off her feet and closer to his face. Livia and Blake were the only ones close enough to hear Cole’s private vows.
He kissed her once, gently and almost chastely. “For our past.”
Cole kissed her again, just a breath of a kiss, lightly touching her lips. “For today.”
The last kiss was deeper, but still maintained church decorum. It was the intimacy in his gaze that made the guests feel voyeuristic. “For the rest of our lives,” he said softly as he set her back on her feet.
Kyle looked stunned and deliriously teary and happy as she turned to face the crowd, which clapped and whooped. The processional music burst forth, and the organist’s exuberance propelled it through the sour notes. Cole picked Kyle up as soon as they were down the few steps from the altar. The ladies in the crowd sighed and smiled as he carried her down the aisle.
Blake and Livia were next to exit. He took the steps before she could and turned to offer her his hand, like a knight escorting his queen. Livia took Blake’s hand and hugged his offered arm. Bea’s photographer-nephew’s flash blinded them as it captured their moment for all time.
Kyle and Cole’s reception was to be hosted in the community room at the retirement center. The couple multitasked with the slow conga line of seniors heading back home by greeting them as they passed like a receiving line. Kyle got on her tiptoes to search the crowd every few minutes.
“What’s up?” Cole asked. “Are you looking for someone?”
Kyle waved his questions away.
Livia leaned down to her sister. “Beckett?”
Kyle made big eyes and shook her head.
Eventually, Kyle seemed to find what she’d been looking for and became less agitated.
As they drew close to the building Livia was pleased to see Bea in her wheelchair, decked out in a lavender dress and bright rosy blush. A string of pearls completed her fancy look.
“I see your young man has accompanied you today.” Bea accepted Livia’s hug with a gentle pat.
“He has. I’m so glad he gets to meet you.” Livia held Bea’s soft, delicate hand.
“I’ve noticed he always has his body angled toward yours,” Bea reported seriously. “It’s a good sign, my dear. I do believe you’ve found yourself a winner.” She smiled.
Livia leaned back to catch Blake’s eye. As if he heard her heart calling his, he leaned back as well. Livia motioned for him to come over.
“Blake, this is Bea,” she said as he came to her side. “She’s that friend of mine who gives great advice.” Blake touched Livia’s lower back before he took to one knee.
With his eyes sparkling, he turned Bea’s offered hand to kiss it. “Lovely Bea, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you so much for befriending Livia. She speaks very highly of you.”
Bea giggled and swatted at him playfully with the very hand he’d kissed. “What a gentleman. Aren’t you a looker?”
Blake stayed on his knee, giving Bea his full attention.
“I hope you know how rare a girl like Livia is.”
Blake nodded, but said nothing.
“I’ve only met a few souls as crystal clear as hers,” Bea continued. “One of them was my Aaron; we were married for sixty-two years. Souls like that, my boy, are a gift. Cherish her.”
“I will.” Blake stood and gave Bea a formal bow only he could get away with.
Kyle glared at Blake. He jumped and kissed Livia quickly so he could get back into his Kyle-approved position, next to Cole.
A small lady moved on after greeting Livia to address the wedding couple. “Cole Bridge. Look at you!”
Cole’s mouth dropped open. “Mrs. D?” After a shocked pause, he scooped her into a hug. “You’re here?”
“Of course I am, sweetheart. Your wonderful wife delivered the invitation by hand. She insisted it be a surprise.” Mrs. D rubbed Cole’s arm.
Cole turned to Kyle. “Thank you so much. I didn’t know you were going to do this.”
Kyle nodded. “I know how much she means to you,” she said.
Livia smiled, making a mental note to ask Kyle about this later, as the bride turned and held her hand out to Mr. D. He looked like he’d been to a million weddings. Livia suspected Mrs. D was important in a lot of lives.
After greeting each of her guests, Kyle was in for her own surprise. The seniors had been preparing the community room for weeks, and Kyle and Livia both held a hand to their mouths when they saw the intricate decorations.
Nothing was hung very high, but what the residents could reach was touched by love, wisdom, and heart: knit-flower centerpieces, carefully cut paper shapes, and streamers arranged to look like expensive fabric.
The DJ had set up in the corner, and he looked old enough to have started his career by knocking rocks together to entertain dinosaurs, but he was excellent and provided the best oldies in existence. The buffet was served by some of the seniors themselves, their fancy clothes complemented by hairnets.
Cole led Kyle to the center of the room when the DJ announced their wedding dance and Etta James did the honors with “At Last.” When Cole kissed Kyle deeply to show off at the end of their graceful dance, the bride bent one knee and pointed her toe like a smitten cartoon character. The spectators laughed out loud.
Though they spanned an unlikely range of ages, everyone in the crowd was ready for a good time. Kyle twirled endlessly around a mostly stationary Cole, and the older couples schooled their younger counterparts. The seniors seemed to slip from one delicate, complicated set of steps to another, reacting to cues in the music only they understood.
The entire wedding party was adopted by a blue-haired beauty who tried, with varying degrees of success, to teach them some classic moves from the musical past. Blake and Kyle were quick studies. Cole and Livia just shrugged and smiled. Livia watched as Blake sought out Bea for a dance, twirling her chair gently in circles.
Cole tried his best to dance with Mrs. D, but she was much shorter and by far the better dancer. Mostly they rocked back and forth, smiling at each other.
Mrs. D hugged Cole’s middle, hard, and the music cut out just in time for her compliment to carry across the room. “I knew you would be a magnificent man.”
When it was time for the father-daughter dance, John politely left Kathy, his date, sitting with Nurse Susan and Dr. Ted. Kyle waited for her father in the center of the floor as the opening notes of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable” swept through the air. John was not a dancer, but he was determined. He put his arms around his daughter, and Kyle rested her head on his chest.
Halfway through, the DJ suggested others dance as well. Blake swept Livia onto the dancefloor, and she gazed at her sister and father as she basked in his arms.
“Kyle, I love you. I’m always here,” she heard her father murmur as the song came to an end.
Kyle gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “I know. I love you too.”
With the formalities out of the way, the wedding party gathered in the corner with the bride and groom, and Cole grabbed Eve to join them. Beckett’s absence was a looming hole in the joy of the evening, and the friends offered a toast to their absent brother. Eve turned her whole body to gaze at each person in the circle for a moment.
Blake lifted a plastic champagne flute filled with bubbling apple cider. “To Beckett—we wouldn’t be here without him.”
“To Beckett,” the others agreed.
The dull thump of the plastic was unsatisfying, but it would have to suffice.
It was early morning with the sun creeping into view when the room’s harsh fluorescent lights came on. Instead of leaving to collapse in bed, the guests stayed to help clean up. With everyone working together, they had the community room back to its original state and ready for the day’s activities within an hour.
Though Beckett remained confined to the same claustrophobic hotel room that had housed him for weeks now, he’d attended the wedding in every sense but literally.
He dressed for the occasion, and Eve helped him get his bow tie just right before she left, promising once again that her hummingbird pin would send him every detail it could.
Riveted to the live feed from Eve’s transmitter on his hotel room TV, Beckett stood when the congregation stood, and he sat when they sat. And when he noticed that the camera had bounced even lower, Beckett knelt.
As Kyle came fluttering down the aisle in her simple blue dress, Beckett swore aloud in the empty room. “Shit, Fairy Princess, you’re an angel.”
He fought with himself through the entire ceremony—despondent to be separated from his family, but bursting with pride over every single one of them. With no one around to preserve church decorum, he began toasting his sorrows and lining up shots to drown his frustrations about the same time as Cole and Kyle began their vows. By the time they’d reached the reception, he was a rumpled mess on the bed.
But he did see them dance. He laughed out loud remembering when he’d danced with Kyle. She hardly seemed the same person. And Cole needed some serious help in the moves department.
“Fuck, brother, you’re making us all look bad!” Beckett shouted at the screen.
Everyone had a glass in their hand at the reception, so Beckett helped himself to a little more. He was just finishing off the bottle when he saw them raise their glasses to him—to him!—via Eve’s hummingbird camera. At that moment Beckett was glad he was alone. After joining the toast, his eyes blurry with tears, Beckett threw the bottle against the wall where it shattered spectacularly. This video was testament to exactly how normal his brothers’ lives would be without him.
He lay back on the bed and balled his hands into fists.
Cole shut the bedroom door and gazed at Kyle. His eyes said he’d married his salvation, and Kyle knew what he meant. Two souls in need had finally found resolution with “I do.”
“Wife. You’re the most stunning vision I’ve ever seen. Will you always be mine?” Cole held out his hand as he unbuttoned his shirt.
“Husband, I already promised you that.” She accepted his hand and cuddled into his chest. “I, Kyle McHugh, choose you, Cole Bridge, to be my husband, to respect you in your failures, to care for you in sickness, to nurture you, and to grow with you throughout the seasons of life.”
“Why did you leave out the good parts?” Cole tilted her delicate face toward his.
“It’ll be easy to stand next to you during good times. It’s the bad times, the scary times that are tough. I’ll never leave—no matter what life hands us.” A tear shone on Kyle’s cheek.
Cole wiped it dry with his thumb. “To the bad times then, my divine bride. I pledge my heart to bad times as well.”
He leaned down, changing his hold so he could pull her body into his and deliver a passionate kiss. She buried herself in his chest when they needed to catch their breath.
“I have to ask you something—promise me you’ll be open-minded?” She looked tentative.
He nodded.
“I’ve got some mad skills. Some mad sex skills. I want to do stuff to you, without you worrying about me.” She looked at him with one eye closed.
“I can never promise to stop worrying about you,” Cole said, smiling. “You’re all I think about. But I’m sure my body is up to this task. Do as you must. I won’t fight you off,” he said with a resolute sigh.
Kyle stepped up and unbuttoned his pants. He put his thumb in her mouth. She smirked around it and swirled her tongue in a circle. Kyle kicked off her heels and switched to her dancer’s toes, en pointe. As she unzipped his pants she kicked her leg up to rest a foot on his shoulder. Cole couldn’t keep his hand from tracing the muscles of her smooth leg. Kyle used the moment to arch into a back bend, carefully dragging her legs over in a display of flexibility. She tucked her knees at the last moment to kneel in front of him.
“Don’t worry.” She watched suspicion cloud his eyes. “I’m going to give you pleasure. And you’re going to take it.”
She waited until his grin formed, then kissed him everywhere she could reach with her lips. She magicked his pants away from his ankles and slipped off his shoes and socks.
Now she would show him—show him that she loved him enough to stay with him, to be present as she wrapped her mouth around his length. She looked up so he could see her eyes and be sure of her. She kept her hands busy, increasing the friction and finding the places that made it hard for him to breathe. She could feel him tense with pleasure. Kyle cupped him and adjusted subtly until she found the spot.
“Damn it,” he gasped as she pressed gently.
She continued stroking and sucking, planning to finish him still standing, just so she could see his knees shake. But Cole stepped back and away from her tender touches.
“Get on the bed, Kyle.” His hands trembled.
“Cole, you promised. I want to do this for you.” Kyle was suddenly worried. Didn’t he trust her?
“That’s not it. I just—your legs, your head moving, your hands. I need to taste you. Get on the bed.” Cole offered a hand to her, helping her from her knees.
She smiled when she realized what he meant. Soon they were twisted into each other, unobstructed by clothing in a ying and yang of pleasure. She now had to fight through her own ecstasy to concentrate on his manhood. But this new angle gave her mouth more to work with, and soon together they became a shimmering convulsion of gratification. Cole untangled himself to stand over her, glistening.
“Mrs. Bridge? Would you care to shower?”
Kyle accepted his hand and swatted his bottom. “Yes. Mr. Bridge, I would love to.” She giggled and tried to get away as he spanked her in return.
Cole did the honors of adjusting the water to the perfect temperature. He stood outside the shower as Kyle stepped into the stream. The curtain remained pushed aside as Cole watched Kyle soak her hair, her skin warming and glowing with the liquid heat. She peeked out at him every so often, thrilled every time to find his eyes on her body.
Droplets of water beaded on Cole’s chest, and Kyle ran her hands over her body. “There’s water everywhere, Cole. Get in. Come inside me this time.”
Water covered the patchwork of scars on Cole’s back as he pounded into Kyle. She opened her hands to steady herself against the tile as he pressed her high against the shower wall. She was blessed by the hot water, by his touch. He was baptized by the warm, inviting spot inside her.
The steam that poured out the open bathroom door created a blurry cloud. It seemed to pulsate in time with Cole’s deep thrusts into his bride. Her hands moved from the tile to caress his neck. He sounded almost as if he was in pain as he thundered with the ecstasy of his release.
After lathering up and rinsing each other, Cole toweled Kyle’s body dry. As he wrapped her in white terrycloth, Kyle eyed his lingering hardness. “Again?”
Cole turned his bride to hug her from behind, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll have you in my bed next,” he said. “I’m going to make love to you so thoroughly that, tomorrow? You’ll walk like John Wayne.”
Her laughter sounded so free.
Far from Kyle’s joy, back in the lonely hotel room, Eve opened the door to find the drunken Beckett. She sat on the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. Beckett could barely manage the coordination it took to crawl to her and set his head on her chest.
“How wazzit?” he slurred.
He started to snore between her breasts before she could answer. She stroked his hair, letting his rhythmic noise free her tears. She watched the camera in her brooch project a picture of the TV to the TV, creating a sort of bizarre, M.C. Escher-style modern art—so fitting for the girl whose problems became her answers, which had then become her problems all over again.
Eve had wet cheeks when she finally answered a completely unaware Beckett. “It was amazing. It was everything I’ll never have.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his hair. “Loving you is more of a curse than anything else.”