When I Was Yours
She curls her hand around my arm, and I rest my hand over hers.
“My husband, Ike”—God, I hope she doesn’t mean Turner—“will perform your ceremony. He’s a minister,” she says proudly.
I’m going to reserve the right to pass judgment on Ike—possibly Turner—until I’ve met the guy.
“Now, you kids are going to need a song to walk down the aisle to. Do you have a song already in mind? Bear in mind, we don’t have all that hip-hop or R and B rap music you kids are all listening to at the moment. Then again, I guess you figured that out when you booked the place.”
I wish I had, Trixie. I really wish I had.
This will teach me to pay attention next time, not that I plan on getting married again. Evie is the only one for me.
“But if you kids do have a special song, I can see what I can do.”
“Oh my God. We don’t have a song,” Evie blurts out, suddenly sounding panicked.
I look at her, and her eyes are already on me, filled with worry.
“Hey…it’s fine.” I rub her hand, not really seeing the reason to stress. “It’s okay. We’ll just pick one.”
“But don’t you think that it might be a bad omen that we don’t have a song? I mean, all couples have songs.” Evie’s voice is getting higher and higher.
I’m seeing the reason for her worry now.
“Evie, it’s fine. Not all couples have a song.” I squeeze her hand. “And, no, I don’t think it’s a bad omen.”
“He’s right. Lots of couples who come in here to get married don’t have a song. That’s why we have a book of songs, so couples can pick one out together,” Trixie says, pulling Evie’s attention to her. “I’ll just grab the song list for you.”
“That’ll be great. Thanks.” I smile gratefully at Trixie as she gets up and retrieves a small binder from the shelf on the wall.
I can tell the no-song thing is really bothering Evie. So, I take hold of her chin, bringing her eyes to mine. “Evie, you don’t need to worry about this song thing. I’m not. We’ll pick a song together, and whatever song we choose, that will be ours. It will be the one we get married to, and nothing is more important than that, right?”
“Right.” She smiles.
Her expression relaxes just as Trixie puts the folder on the table in front of us.
“Okay.” I open it up and start looking down the list of songs.
Hmm, not much going on here. Mostly heavy-metal bands.
I flick to the next page.
Soft-metal bands.
Okay…
“You see any you like?” I ask Evie.
Biting her lips, she shakes her head. I can see the worry creeping back into her eyes again.
I don’t want her to worry. I want her to be happy. So, we need to find a song really soon.
“How about we leave it to chance?”
She lifts a brow at me. “Chance?”
“We can pick one at random.” I scoot my chair closer to hers and take hold of her right hand with mine. I curl my fingers over hers, leaving only our index fingers pointing out.
“Close your eyes,” I say.
She hesitates for a moment and then does as I asked.
“Okay.” I press our fingers to the top of the list of the soft-rock page. I figure that’s better than heavy metal. Then, I shut my eyes. “You ready?” I ask her.
“Ready for what?”
“We’re gonna move our fingers down this list. You’re going to say stop when you’re ready. And whichever song we land on, we’re getting married to it, and that will be our song.”
“Okay.” She blows out a breath.
“On the count of three, we start moving. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“One. Two. Three.” I start moving our joined fingers down the list, waiting for Evie to say stop.
It feels like we’ve been going forever, and I’m starting to worry that we’re going to run off the page when Evie says, “Stop.”
I stop our fingers and open my eyes. Evie’s are already open, and she’s giggling.
I glance down at the song to see what we’ve picked.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“‘Livin’ on a Prayer?’ You have ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ as a wedding song?” I flick a look of disbelief to Trixie.
She gives me a confused one back. “Of course. ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ rocks. It’s one of the best love songs Bon Jovi ever wrote.”
Love song? I wouldn’t exactly call two people struggling to make ends meet a love song, but whatever.
I turn to Evie. “We can pick again.”
She brings her eyes to mine. There’s mirth and happiness in them. “No way.” She laughs. “That defeats the purpose of leaving it to chance. We picked it. So, ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ is the song we’re getting married to.”
I stare at her face, trying to determine if she’s actually being serious.
Yep, she looks pretty damn sure about it.
“‘Livin’ on a Prayer,’ it is,” I sigh.
“Excellent choice.” Trixie gleefully claps her hands together.
“I kind of like it,” Evie says to me. “It’s a cool song, and it’s different for a wedding song.”
“It’s definitely different.” I give her a look.
She shakes her head at me, her lips twitching. “I bet there aren’t many people who can say they got married to ‘Livin’ on a Prayer.’”
“There’s a reason for that, babe.”
She laughs again, louder this time, the sound filling the room. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But I don’t care. It’s ours, and we finally have our song.”
She looks so happy in this moment, and that makes me happy.
“Gosh, you kids are so cute together,” Trixie says, beaming at us. “Okay,” she says, looking back down at her papers. “The last thing we need to sort out before you two can get married is the matter of witnesses. I’m taking it you don’t have any with you?”
“No,” I answer.
“Well, you need two. I can be one for you and our impersonator, Nigel, can be the other. He’s actually a Jon Bon Jovi impersonator. He also does Axl Rose, Bret Michaels, and Billy Idol, too. But as you’ve picked a Bon Jovi song to get married to, it’d be awfully nice to have him dressed as Jon Bon Jovi for the ceremony.”
“Um, yeah. Awfully nice,” I deadpan.
Evie digs her fingers in my am. I flash her an innocent smile.
“And we won’t charge you extra for him to dress up as Jon Bon Jovi, as he’s already in costume from the wedding we just did, and you two are just the sweetest. You look so much in love. Reminds me of my Ike and me.”
“That’s really kind of you,” Evie says to her.
“I guess it was fate—you choosing a Bon Jovi song and him still being in costume and all.” Trixie smiles wide.
“Yep, total fate,” I say.
That earns me a pinch, a really hard pinch, on my arm from Evie. I flash her a look this time ’cause that fucker hurt.
“Well, I’ll just go tell Nigel that he’s needed, and I’ll make sure that Ike is all set up and ready for you.” Trixie gets up from her seat. “Be back in a few ticks.”