Chapter 27
From Fisher’s Journal
January 23, 2006
My parent’s 24,000 square foot home is filled to the brim with guests and caterers and I stare out of my old bedroom window watching more and more cars come up the drive to be parked by the valets my mother hired.
I tug nervously on the pale blue tie of my black tuxedo, trying to loosen it so I don’t feel like I’m suffocating. My palms are already sweating and my hands are shaking, so I really don’t want to add passing out to the mix. I wish I could say that it was just wedding day jitters making me feel this way, but that would be a lie. The only thing keeping me from jumping out of this second-story window is the knowledge that I’m marrying Lucy today. The problem I’m having is with all the people. So many fucking people. Since I got back from my deployment, I’ve avoided large groups of people, preferring to be alone working on my furniture or curled up somewhere in the house with Lucy. I can’t handle all the noise, all the chatter and all the questions that come along with being around so many people.
“Oh, honey, your tie…”
I continue staring blankly out the window as my mother rushes across the room to me, fiddling with my tie and making it tighter than it was before. She runs her palms down the front of my tie to smooth it down when she’s finished and then takes a step back to look at me.
“Perfect! You look so handsome, Fisher!” she moves back and buttons the coat of my tux, brushing the shoulders and the sleeves of the jacket to get rid of any lint or stray hairs while she prattles about shit I don’t care about. “The guests have almost all arrived and the caterers are passing out hors d’oeuvres and champagne while they wait to be seated. Wait until you see the flower arrangements I ordered for the reception. I had blue hydrangeas and orchids flown in to match the wedding colors…”
I tune her out and try counting backwards from a hundred in my head. Even being a floor above all the guests and workers, I can still hear the hum of their voices and laughter, the clink of glasses and the slamming of doors. My ears start to ring and my head aches with so much pressure that it feels like it might explode. I want peace and quiet… I want Lucy. I need Lucy to wrap her arms around me and whisper in my ear that everything is okay.
I must have muttered Lucy’s name out loud while my mom was droning on about food and decorations because she crosses her arms and glares at me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“You cannot see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” she informs me.
No, bad luck is not getting the wedding you wanted, the small, intimate gathering of close family and friends on the beach at sunset. Bad luck is this circus going on downstairs with hundreds of people Lucy and I have never met before. My father was against the wedding from day one, but he certainly is playing the part of a proud father of the groom today, inviting everyone he’s ever done business with and kissing ass as soon as they walk in the door. He’s been parading people around “The Estate” all morning, showing off expensive artwork and the like, smiling his fake smile and laughing his fake laugh whenever anyone asks him if he’s excited to become a father-in-law today.
A loud crash sounds from somewhere in the house and I instinctively cover my head and drop to the ground. I hold my breath and wait for the sound of gunfire and explosions to fill the air, but nothing comes. I suddenly feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder and I shake my head to clear it, feeling like a complete idiot.
“Fisher?” she whispers nervously as I push myself up from the floor and take a few deep breaths.
I’m not in the desert, I’m in my parents’ home. Everything is fine, I just need to calm down.
“I’m fine, mom, it’s nothing,” I tell her distractedly as I walk around her and head towards the door. There’s no point in admitting I just had a flashback. I’m pretty sure she realized that as soon as I dropped to the ground and wrapped my arms around my head.
I need Lucy. I don’t care what tradition says, I fucking need to see her right now or I’m never going to be able to calm down. I need to see that she’s safe and happy and hasn’t changed her mind about marrying into this fucked-up family.
As soon as I get out in the hallway, I pick up my pace, jogging down the hallway until I come to the staircase leading up to the third floor. I take the steps two at a time, my heart beating faster and my spirits lifting the closer I get to the room Lucy is in. When I get to the top of the stairs, I take off running full speed, my tie flying out behind me as I head towards the opposite side of the house.
I don’t even stop to knock when I get to the closed double doors at the end of the hallway. Grabbing onto both handles, I throw open the doors and step inside the huge room that my mother had set up for Lucy to get ready in. Mirrors line every wall and make-up and hair products clutter the tables, but I only have eyes for the woman standing on the far side of the room in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.
She is the single most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
I finally stop moving and start breathing again when I see her. The winter sun shines brightly through the window, surrounding her like a halo, and she looks like an angel. She IS an angel. She’s my angel and she keeps me grounded and watches over me, always taking care of me. The last few months have been hard on both of us, but Lucy has never let it show. She doesn’t protest when I want to stay inside the house, away from other people; she just curls up with me on the couch and tells me how much she loves me. She doesn’t get scared or look at me with pity if I have a nightmare and wake her up in the middle of the night; she just wraps me in her arms, talks to me about stuff that happened on the island while I was gone and tells me she missed me.
It’s a strange thing, feeling like you can’t breathe without another person. Physically, I know I’m breathing and my heart is beating when she’s not around, but in my soul, it feels a movie that’s been paused, waiting for someone to come back into the room. When I’m away from her, I feel like my life is on hold and she’s the only one who can restart it.
“Jesus… You are stunning,” I whisper as I take her in from head to toe.
She’s wearing a strapless white dress that hugs every curve of her body and her hair is curled in soft waves all around her face and hangs down her back. I smile, knowing that she was able to win at least one argument with my mother about this wedding. My mother thought she would look best with her hair piled up on top of her head, but Lucy refused, knowing that I love it best when it’s down and natural. Her veil is attached somewhere in her hair and it hangs down her back, trailing on the floor behind her. She grabs onto the fabric of her skirt and sweeps it out of the way as she turns to face me.
I take my time walking across the room so I can enjoy staring at her. When we’re standing toe-to-toe, she looks up at me and smiles.
“Does your mother know you’re in here? I was given strict orders to stay away from you until the ceremony,” she tells me with a laugh.
Wrapping my hands softly around her neck, I rub my thumbs back and forth against the smooth skin of her cheeks. I’m afraid to touch her anywhere else and mess up her hair and make-up, but I can’t be this close to her and not put my hands on her.
“I don’t give a shit what my mother says. I needed to see you.”
Lucy’s face lights up, but then it quickly morphs into concern as she stares into my eyes.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks softly, bringing her palms up and pressing them against my chest.
I smooth a wayward curl out of her eyes with the tips of my fingers and smile down at her.
“I am now. I just needed to see you,” I reassure her.
She moves into the circle of my arms, sliding her hands down and around my waist before resting her cheek against my chest.
“You’re going to mess up your hair and make-up,” I protest, even though I’m already wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer.
“It doesn’t matter,” she tells me, squeezing her arms tighter around my waist. “Nothing matters but this, right here. None of those people downstairs matter, none of the elaborate decorations or food matters, nothing is more important than us, right here, right now. I love you, Fisher, and even though we didn’t get our wedding on the beach by the lighthouse, this is still the happiest day of my life.”
Kissing the top of her head while trying to avoid mussing her hair, we stand in each other’s arms and stare out the window at our lighthouse, set amongst the cliffs.
“Someday, down the line, I’m going to marry you by that lighthouse. We’ll just renew our vows or something,” I tell her.
Lucy’s laughter rumbles against my chest and she tilts her head back to look up at me.
“Are we going to invite your mother? Because if we do, she might try to decorate the lighthouse and invite the entire town.”
I chuckle and shrug. “Maybe we can just keep it a secret and invite her five minutes before it begins. Let’s say… the fifteenth anniversary of the day I finally convinced you to date me. I’ll meet you at the lighthouse and you can become my wife again.”
Lucy nods her head, pushing up on her toes to kiss my chin. “It’s a date. I’ll meet you at the lighthouse.”
Just a few minutes holding Lucy and I already feel a thousand times better. I can still hear the faint hum of noise downstairs, but it doesn’t bother me. I hear a door slam and I don’t jump with anxiety. She makes everything better… She makes the world around me disappear until there’s just the two of us and she’s right, that’s all that matters.
I move back and grab her hands, pulling her towards the closet on the far side of the room.
“I have something for you. I snuck it in here this morning before you came up here to get ready,” I tell her as I lead us to the closet. “Close your eyes.”
She complies, standing beside me with a huge smile on her face.
“I thought we said we weren’t going to get each other wedding presents, Fisher. Marrying you is the only gift I need.”
I let go of her hands and open the door, reaching inside for the gift I made her.
“Yeah, well, I lied. Open your eyes.”
She slowly opens her eyes and they immediately fill with tears when she sees what I’m holding.
“I thought we could hang it next to the front door of our house,” I tell her.
I spent the last few weeks making a sign for her. It isn’t much and it’s definitely not the expensive pearls my mother insisted I buy for her, but I knew Lucy would much rather have a gift that came from the heart than anything I could buy.
“Oh, Fisher, it’s beautiful,” she tells me as she runs her hand over the oval sign.
I carved the words “The Fisher’s, EST. 2006” and beneath it, our lighthouse.
“I can’t wait to hang this up at the house. And I can’t wait to become Mrs. Fisher.”
Setting the sign down on the floor next to us, I pull her back into my arms.
“You make everything perfect, Lucy. You’re my light and my life and all I need is your love to guide me home, no matter where I go.”