The Other F-Word (2 page)

Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

Pucci:
Emilio Pucci

Frisbee: Wham-O Toys, Inc.

Chapter One

A child’s happiness is a mother’s joy. Today there was no shortage of joy. It was seeping out of my pores, or maybe those were tears. She was a vision of perfection in white organza and antique lace. Even the simple infinity tattoo that graced her right shoulder looked elegant. She told me it matched up with his when he stood behind her. I blinked, fighting back the salty drops threatening to ruin my makeup—Stevie would go into a rampage. “You look so beautiful, honey.”

Marley turned to me, head over her shoulder, ten shades of blonde done up in sophisticated, shiny curls and pale blue eyes that were as crystal clear as Lake Michigan on a sunny day. “Thanks, Mom.”

I took her hand in mine. “I’m so proud of you,” I said in a quiet whisper.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening. It still feels like a dream…the good kind.”

I embraced her then, feeling all the emotions of the past year in that one hug. Marley had had so many challenges in her life. As a mother, her pain was mine to bear. It came with many sleepless nights, and years of guilt weighing on my shoulders like an anchor that wouldn’t yield. She’d never once blamed me for any of it, but I had enough guilt for both of us. Not today, though. Today was all about happiness and hope. Today she was marrying a man who cherished her. One who loved her so much, he’d fight all her demons with her…for her.

“Damn, I can’t believe they forgot the white roses in your bouquet,” Stevie grumbled, bringing us all back to the present. She’d kept Marley on track for the wedding, but she was grating on everyone’s nerves with her Nazi bridal planning. Still, looking at Marley in her strapless A-line gown, it seemed worth it.

“I don’t care, Stevie. The orchids are fine by themselves.”

“That’s not the point. This has to be perfect,” Stevie said, smoothing out her long, chestnut-coloured hair that matched mine.

Marley narrowed her eyes and sighed so hard the golden locks on her forehead flew, even though Dillon had sprayed them down. “Listen, I’ve had about enough of your crap. I don’t care about the flowers.”

“That’s why I’m here. Someone needs to care.” Stevie adjusted the black satin halter dress Marley had picked out. I had an inkling it was Stevie who’d actually picked them out—she was my bossy girl. “If it was up to you, we’d all be in jeans right now.”

“You guys cut it out already,” Billie interjected, trying to feign authority as the maid of honour.

A mother’s job was never done and it was time for me to step in. “Both of you cut it out, or I’ll send you to your separate corners for a timeout.”

“You can’t give me a timeout on my wedding day.”

“You may be getting married, but I am your mother and I most certainly can. You know Stevie only wants today to be perfect for you. And Stevie, you know Marley’s not fussy about the details like you are.”

They stared at each other like two fighters assessing each other in the ring, but I could see their frustration dissipate as quickly as it had begun. These were my daughters and I knew them like the back of my hand.

Marley’s mouth crinkled in a smile. “How come you always have to get your way?”

Stevie crossed her arms and looked down at the designer stilettos on her feet. “I didn’t get everything. The tomboy in you always wins despite how much I try to make you a lady.”

“What does that mean?” Billie asked.

Both girls smiled and the miniature battle was over. Marley lifted the hem of her dress. We all stared, slightly in awe at the gleaming white combat boots strung with fancy lace bows that adorned her feet. They were feminine and tough. They were Marley.

“You’re kidding, right?” Billie widened her eyes.

“Where in the world did you get those?” I smirked.

“Stevie went to a hundred different places and finally found someone to dye a pair for me. They were a surprise.”

Stevie and Marley were like oil and water, but don’t all good recipes need both ingredients? All three of my girls could bicker. At the end of the day though, they were the best of friends and if one was hurt, the others would come after you, with me leading the pack.

“I love them,” I said.

“Me too,” Billie admitted.

Stevie hugged Marley, careful not to press too close to her dress. “This is you, Marley—fancy dress and combat boots. French manicure and a fist that could punch through steel. I don’t know any other girl who could pull off that combination.”

Both girls stared at each other, lips quivering, threatening to give away to the sobs of happiness that this moment was bringing all of us.

“Don’t you dare cry!” Dillon said, startling all of us. He slammed the door shut then strode over to us. He looked so handsome in his black suit complete with skinny tie, reminiscent of an earlier time. “Lean your head back so the tears don’t wipe off your make-up. Both of you.”

He’d started out as Marley’s best friend, but we all loved him. As far as I was concerned, he was my son. I’d symbolically adopted him the moment he’d told me his parents had disowned him for what they referred to as his ‘lifestyle choices’.

“How’s Rick?” Marley inquired as Dillon wiped the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

“He’s nervous.”

“He is?” The alarm in Marley’s voice caused it to waver.

It was hard to believe—Rick was composed and confident in all things. He fit into our family seamlessly as Stevie’s husband, Adam, did. They were also my sons.

Dillon shrugged. “I think he’s afraid you’re gonna be a runaway bride. He sent me in here to check on you.”

“He doesn’t have to worry about that. That man couldn’t get rid of me even if he wanted to.”

“Good thing he doesn’t want to.” Dillon reached into his pocket, taking out several Zesty bars. Rick had introduced us to the protein bars, and we all loved them. I think our family single handedly supported the company now. “I thought we could have a last minute dish session before he makes an honest woman out of you,” he said, throwing a bar to each of us.

“That’ll never happen,” Billie said.

“Thanks, Dills.” Marley squeezed his arm.

“Dish…the girls in this family make beautiful brides,” he said.

Stevie smiled gratefully. It was just a little over a year ago that we’d been celebrating her wedding to Adam. That was Dillon. He always came up with the right thing to say to make a girl smile.

“Dish…I think I’m the happiest mother there ever was right now,” I said, the tears burning my eyes. Dillon was right there with his monogrammed handkerchief, faintly fragranced with expensive cologne.

“Okay, dish is a bad idea right now,” Stevie said.

“Personally, I’m glad to be here with you chicks. Rick is kind of grumpy.”

That was surprising. Rick always had a sweet smile, especially for my daughter. Come to think of it, Marley was being grumpy too. I’d attributed that to pre-wedding jitters.

We all honed in on Marley’s wry smile. “Dish,” we said in unison.

She turned to the mirror, adjusting her veil. “We decided to forgo dessert this week.”

“And by dessert, you mean—”

“Yes, Dills, I mean sex. We haven’t even kissed. We thought it would be more special if we waited, like the first time. Rick gets agitated when he’s denied gratification.”

“He’s not the only one,” Billie said in a low voice.

“Well, let’s get the show on the road then so you can get to it,” Dillon said, patting Marley on the back.

This was an odd conversation. Then again we weren’t the most traditional family. We loved unconditionally, and at times, unconventionally, but we were there for each other.

Dillon went back to be with Rick and the other groomsman. The girls and I made our way down the stairs to the gardens of the Wilston hotel, where Marley and Rick would say their vows under a canopy of golden stars and aromatic gardenias.

I took her arm, readying to give her that last piece of motherly advice. It wasn’t my style to tell my girls how to live their lives—I was just there to hold them up so they wouldn’t fall, pick them up when they did and help them walk with their heads held high. I’d bitten my tongue so much with Marley, I was surprised it was still attached in my mouth.

She turned to me, eyes bright blue and a glorious crown of hair that was seven shades of beautiful.

“He loves you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t fuck this up,” I whispered.

She laughed, hugging me. “I won’t.”

The traditional music queued. Stevie and Billie started down the aisle. I still couldn’t believe she’d asked me to give her away. I linked my arm in hers, starting to lead her down the long, lace runner, which would be her last walk as a single woman.

She pulled back, halting us before we took a step. “Mom, I have to tell you something.”

“Now?”

“Yes, I asked you to give me away not just because you’re my parent. It’s because you’re my everything. I know the sacrifices you made for me and the guilt you carry in your heart. I want you to stop. Everything about today is possible not just because of how much Rick and I love each other. It’s also because of how much you love me. I can walk on my own now, but I will always want you by my side.”

I hugged her, hoping Dillon had packed extra handkerchiefs. “You are my everything, little girl. This moment is yours and his. Nevertheless, it’s my honour to share it with you. I may be giving you away today, but you will always belong to me.”

She took in a deep breath, and we began the wedding march. I caught a glimpse of Rick, looking so handsome in his black suit, slim red tie and silver vest. I know my daughter did too because she gasped. They both did. It’s one thing to smile or sigh when you see the person you love, but they made each other gasp. That was truly special.

Then the music changed, and I tried to keep my smile from turning into a grimace. I’d almost forgotten about this. The dramatic and poetic lyrics of Pat Benatar’s
We Belong
filled the honeysuckled air. It wasn’t traditional, yet it was perfect. My children shared my love of music. It invoked feelings, allowed us expression where our own voices failed. This was no exception. This song was Marley’s way of letting him know how she felt. He arched his brow as his face broke out into a huge grin. It was clear, he understood.

Unfortunately, we had to dance our way down the aisle to Stevie’s choreography—no easy feat in stilettos and the fitted blue satin dress I wore. We had all groaned about this since none of us were dancers, but Marley had insisted. I had to admit we were doing pretty well, considering this was an accident-prone routine. Adam spun Stevie around, Dillon lifted Billie in the air, Rick’s best friend Tom did a pirouette with his wife and I held my daughter’s hands as she twirled her way to him. It was a production worthy of a stage…not Broadway but maybe a community theatre. His smile grew incrementally until we reached him, breathless and dizzy.

“Who gives this woman away?” the pastor inquired.

“I do,” I choked, placing Marley’s hand in Rick’s. “She’s all his.”

He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me and I nodded. He steadied underneath the large arbour of lush white gardenias and roses. I wondered if the florist had got Stevie’s order mixed up because I remembered her saying gardenias only for the arbour. Judging from Stevie’s narrowed eyes, she was thinking the same thing.

I didn’t think much more about it, because the look of immediate joy in Rick’s eyes was captivating. Clearly, my daughter had found not just a good man, but the only man for her.

“You’ve always been mine,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear as they stared at each other like they were the only two people in the world. In that moment, they were.

“Always,” she replied softly.

I took my seat in the front row. No amount of handkerchiefs could stop the flood of tears as they burst forth. It was amazing how tears of happiness felt fresh and cleansing, unlike the bitter, salty tears of sorrow.

“Richard and Marley have prepared their own vows,” the pastor said.

It only made sense they’d want to use their own words to express their love. The way they felt about each other was as rare as getting struck by lightning. Of course, Stevie and Adam had a similar relationship—I guess lightning favoured our family.

“Rick,” she began, swallowing hard, as if trying to keep herself from bawling. “As we enter our union, I know this is not an equal partnership.”

He tilted his head, looking surprised.

“You are not my equal. You are my better. There is no other man that could make me feel the way you do. You took down every brick of the carefully constructed, impenetrable fortress I built. Sometimes I can’t believe what I put you through. Then again, you are the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

He smiled. “Right back at ya, baby.”

“I am thankful for you every day. You did the impossible. You gave me the strength to fight the nightmares that haunted me. And for the first time in my life, I have dreams. You are and will always be my hero. I love you so much.” She started weeping then, unable to control it.

Billie came forward with a handkerchief, but Rick pulled Marley into his arms, kissing her tears away.

“Excuse me,” the pastor said.

Rick didn’t release her.

“Rick,” Adam said, slapping him on the back.

“What?” he said with slight aggravation.

“You have to say your vows before you can kiss her.”

“Oh.” He reluctantly took a step away from her, as if being too close was dangerous.

We all laughed then.

He turned to the pastor. “Sorry, you have no idea how difficult it was to get her to say those three words. I sort of lose control when she does.”

She grinned and mouthed them again to him. He leaned in to kiss her once more, but she put a firm hand on his chest, holding him back this time, smiling through her tears.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before he started his vows. “Marley, I never believed in love at first sight. I thought the idea was ridiculous. Then I saw you at the airport, holding…” He turned to Adam.