Authors: Katherine Owen
Not To Us (14 page)
Then, Carrie gives me a sideways glance and finally smiles. “I know, Ellie. I know you’re pregnant.”
I nod and look over at her in anguish. “I don’t get to keep it.”
“Because Michael says so?”
“Because
they all
say so.”
“Who’s your oncologist, Ellie?”
I look at her in surprise. “Ben is my radiologist. They want to do chemo, I guess, I’ll get an oncologist, then.”
“Uh huh. It’s such a boys club.” We sit in stalled silence, lost in our own thoughts. Then, Carrie stands and pulls her cell from her pocket. “I’m calling Lisa, right now.” I stare at her a moment and realize she’s wearing an old blue sweater of mine from college.
“That sweater’s mine, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” She stares at me. “I was missing you. Sometimes, I wear your stuff that I’ve kept, to be close to you.” She smiles and I watch her as she holds the cell phone.
“Lisa, it’s Carrie. Hey…God, Lisa, I need your help. My best friend, Ellie, I told you about her. Well, she’s scheduled for a
double mas
with immediate reconstruction on Monday.” I watch Carrie’s face; she gets this vexed look. “Yeah,” she says. “Look, Lisa, she’s pregnant and they want her to terminate, but I think you should talk to her first. I mean the boys have this all worked out. Yeah, Liston, Shaw, Giordani, Thompson…”
Carrie stops talking and I can hear this profound long string of swear words through the phone. I smile as I listen.
“Yeah, I know,” Carrie says, after the tirade stops. “Look, Ellie’s marrying Michael today. Why don’t you come? They’ll all be here. We can have a little pow-wow
—
a little gender mix-up at the reception.” Carrie laughs at something this Lisa says.
This conflicted feeling washes over me, a filmy cloud of uncertainty. These things that Carrie is talking about sound incongruent to Michael’s wishes, but I’m too intrigued by the confidence in her voice and the enchanting sound of this Lisa’s voice on the other end of Carrie’s cell phone.
“Yes, absolutely, she should come,” I say with spontaneity to Carrie and to this Lisa on the phone, ignoring the uneasiness that assails me as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
≈ ≈ ≈
No Words
I
t’s another surreal moment. I’m standing in my new-to-me master bedroom staring into the gilded mirror at my sumptuous sleeveless white Vera Wang wedding gown. It’s twenty minutes after one in the afternoon and I am marrying Michael in another forty. I’ve been bathed, buffed and polished. My Gene Juarez saviors were engaged for all of this, per Carrie, who has reached guardian angel status at this point. All I want to do is sit down. I bite my lip and wonder what the consequences for doing so might be.
Robert Bradford strides in. Now, he stands, transfixed, staring at me.
“Bobby, what are you doing here?”
We have not really spoken. He has had assignments from Carrie that involved squiring Michael away from the house for the majority of the morning.
I’ve been left in the dark about most everything. The Gene Juarez entourage just left. I think they even put colored lip gloss on Emily. I’m helpless and control nothing, at this point. Somebody really needs to come up with a way for a bride to sit down. Standing for forty minutes, before going down the aisle, is a bit much.
“So? What? Are you supposed to do, stand there, until they call you?” He looks completely perplexed. It makes me laugh.
“I guess so,” I say.
“Well, that’s crazy.” Bobby comes over and undoes the pearl buttons on the back of my dress, unzips it, and helps me step out of it. I have these thigh-high, white nylons with an intricate lace pattern of lilies on them and this crème colored bustier, matching panties; and that’s it. “Wow, Ellie, you look so beautiful.”
“Bobby Bradford, knock it off. Just help me hang this thing up. I can’t reach my arms that high. What are you doing here, anyway?” He takes the wedding gown from me and puts it on the silk hanger and hangs it on the hook on the wall.
“Well, since you made up with Carrie…I just wanted to thank you for that.”
“I just want you to be happy.” We say this together at the same time and both start to laugh.
“Look, Ellie. These past few months have been…” Robert Bradford has no words for me. This is highly unusual. The man is articulate to a fault.
I just grin over at him. “The best and worst of your life?”
“Yes.”
“Bobby, we’re going to be okay.” I pat his left hand, innocently touching his new gold band.
“Ellie…are
you
going to be okay?”
There are tears in his eyes and his sentiment slays me right there. There are all kinds of love in this world and I still love this man, not like Michael, but I still love Bobby and I can see that he still loves me. Oh, this day, it’s almost more than I can take. I grab his hand and squeeze it.
“I’m going to be fine,” I say with a laugh.
He comes towards me and pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “Ellen Kay, you are amazing.”
How many times will I hear this? Will I ever believe it to be true?
Carrie comes in. The look of insecurity and consternation on her face speaks volume as she surveys me in my lingerie and Bobby in his tuxedo still hugging me. It appears we have a long way to go towards completely trusting one another again. I give her a wry smile.
“I just wanted to sit down.” I move out of Bobby’s arms, across the room, and slide into a chair. Carrie drapes a quilt over me.
“I brought you some tea,” Carrie says as she carries over this cup of steaming liquid.
“What have you done with my best friend Carrie? You don’t have to get me any other gifts. The tea is perfect,” I add, when I see tears in her eyes. Robert goes over to Carrie and puts his arm around her and kisses her.
“She’s going to be fine. She told me so and the woman cannot lie.” I laugh and almost spill the tea. Carrie gives me a secret smile. The fact that Robert has never figured out that I can lie like a tarot card reader is hilarious.
Michael chooses this moment to come into our intimate little setting.
“What are
you
doing here?” Carrie and I ask at the same time.
“It’s
my
house,” Michael says. He looks only at me. He’s stunning in his black tuxedo with a silver tie and silk vest and formal white tuxedo shirt. “Soon, to be yours and mine,” he adds with an uncertain laugh.
“Thank God for Armani, pain killers, and you, today,” I say only to him. “You look amazing.” This weird look of disquiet crosses his face. The word, amazing, has been overused so much lately. I grimace and try for another. “Stunning, handsome, prince-like, wondrous…” I stammer now, unable to stop. Michael shakes his head and laughs.
“You’re killing me with your prose, Ells. You better have your vows written down. You look nervous. You’re not even dressed!” He kneels beside me. “Second thoughts?”
“No.”
I look around him at Carrie and Robert, who stand there unsure of what they should be doing. I smile.
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask. “You’ll stand up for us; won’t you?” I see the gleam in Michael’s eyes and know this is one of the things we were going to talk about.
“Yeah,” Carrie says in this hoarse voice. “You’ve got ten minutes, Dr. Shaw. And then, I’ll be returning to put Ellie
back
into her dress.”
“Okay,” Michael says without looking at either of them. He only looks only at me.
Michael is unsure. I discern his hesitation as I watch my future husband pace the floor from my vantage point where I still recline in the chair next to the blazing fire.
“Ellie, I…I’m getting ready and I’m thinking of you and I’m thinking of all that you’ve been through. Well, I start to think that maybe, I’ve been pushing you too much. That this,” he gestures wide with his left arm. “All of this is too much. I want this so much, but I don’t want any of it, if you don’t want the same thing. So, Ellie, if you don’t want to do this, well, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”
I’m stunned by what he’s just said. For a moment, I want to give in to the hurt that his words cause, but the anguish in his face stops me. Now, I see his vulnerability for what this really is. He loves me enough to let me go. If that is what I would choose, he would do it. His sentiment is so moving I want to cry, but the Gene Juarez entourage flashes through my mind and vanity prevails.
I take a deep breath and let it out. “Michael, there is nothing and no one in this world that I love more than you. You are my life, now. I don’t want anything else, but you.” He looks over at me for a long time. Then, he comes to kneel beside my chair.
“Okay,” he says simply.
He reaches into his pocket and slides this gigantic diamond ring on my left ring finger. I stare at it unable to speak.
It is gorgeous, sparkly, and huge. I turn my hand this way and that, watching it catch the light. The week before, we decided to go with simple gold wedding bands for each other. I’m speechless at the platinum brilliant diamond ring that sparkles on my left hand.
“Michael, I thought we agreed to keep it simple.”
“I changed my mind,” he said. “You deserve everything, Ellie. I want the world to know that I know that.”
“Show off,” I whisper.
“You want me to take it back?” He starts to slide it off my finger. I pull my hand away.
“No. I’m keeping it. It’s gorgeous. God knows, I deserve it for putting up with you.” My pretentious complaint causes him to laugh. “I assume you traded in the keep-it-simple wedding bands to match this ring?”
“Something like that. Emily has the wedding rings.”
“Oh, God, Michael, no.” I groan. “She loses everything.”
“I think she can handle it, Ellen Kay.”
He kisses me, then and I put my arms around his neck and pull him to me. “I love you, Michael.”
“I love you, too,” he says with a dazzling smile.
Just as we break away from this thoughtful embrace, Carrie strides back into the room. She’s wearing this beautiful, long, silver, sleeveless dress that she stole from my closet earlier in the day. We decided to do the
matchy matchy
thing with her daughter as much as we could. Elaina is also dressed in a beautiful silver silk dress with spaghetti straps, but it’s a little less revealing than Carrie’s.
“Your friend, Samuel Davidson, just got here, Michael. You better go tell him where he needs to be,” Carrie says. “He’s looking for the marriage license and stuff.”
“Okay,” Michael says, while still looking at me. “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes, Ellen Kay. Don’t be late.” He kisses my left hand.
“I won’t.” He pulls me up and brushes my lips with his. “See you in fifteen,” I call out and hear his laugh down the hall.
I’ve written my vows down. I did this late last week when I couldn’t sleep one night. I already know that they are inadequate for what I’m feeling about Michael, how he makes me feel. They’re just words and I realize this as I reread them now. Me. The writer. The editor. I am at a loss for words about Michael. I don’t know how to say what I feel. I experience this building terror, so powerful, my body shakes.
