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THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT for a July wedding. “This is a good sign,” Gayle Cartwright said. “The sun is a sign of how your hearts will be toward each other for your marriage.”
“What does it mean if it is snowing?” Becca joked about her mother’s weather related comparison.
Without skipping a beat, she responded with, “You’ll be close to keep each other warm.”
Her mother was the eternal romantic. According to Gayle Cartwright, problems were simply life’s way of applying adhesive to a relationship. Becca saw it over and over again through her parent’s marriage. Something came up, and her mother would lovingly touch her father’s forearm and say, “Are we ready to tackle this one coach?”
They had been doing it so long Becca wished she were there to witness what prompted the habit in the first place. When she was married for real, she’d use it with her husband.
Donovan said he was in it for the long term, but she suspected he said it to keep her from fleeing before the ceremony.
The bridesmaids were off sneaking peeks at the wedding guests when Becca spotted Keane from the reflection in the mirror. His eyes panned back and forth to make sure the coast was clear. From there he half tiptoed into the room as though a faster walk would give away his presence. She couldn’t help noticing how the vest and tie he wore changed his appearance. At the pub, he was all business. The man standing in front of her was the friendly person she remembered from high school.
Becca turned around to see what he wanted. Guessing his intent, she said, "Hannah isn't here."
Keane blushed and recovered quickly. His eyes darted back toward the door as though it would reveal how much time he had to talk with Becca. He rushed his words, “Look I came to tell you a couple things. First, I am so happy for both you and Donovan. You’re good for each other."
Becca opened her mouth to thank him, but he cut her off.
“I also want you to know his love is the real thing. Don’t let him trick you into thinking it’s because you two made a deal about getting together at forty. That was all an act. He’s been in love with you for as long as I can remember. We’ve been trying to get him to act on it for years. You probably already know this. The man does not understand subtle.”
Becca waited in anticipation of a but. In response, Keane’s face wrinkled, and his voice raised in discomfort, “What?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me something like I have a curl out of place, or a smudge in my makeup.”
“Awww, c’mon you had to know I was joking with you all those other times.”
Becca responded with a blank stare.
Keane shrugged. “No? okay. I’ll work on my delivery.”
To which, Becca smiled.
They were silent, and it was the most comfortable Becca had ever been with Keane. He quickly said, “You’re a beautiful bride,” kissed her on the cheek and made his way to the door. Right before opening the door he winked and said his parting words, “Don’t tell Donovan I kissed you. He gets jealous when it comes to you.”
At her response of laughter, he added, “I finally got the delivery right,” and slowly closed the door behind him.
Appropriately, Donovan was the one who tipped the scale in favor of her believing the fairy tale. When she first walked down the aisle with her father, Donovan was in the middle of a conversation with Keane. As he turned to watch her come to him, the softening of his facial expression was enough to capture Becca’s full attention. At first, Becca had to ask herself if those were tears in his eyes. When he wiped one away, it was as if he simultaneously pushed her worries to the side as well.
Her father leaned in and whispered, “If that isn’t a look of love, I don’t know what to tell you.”
All the other faces in the room faded, and his became the only one that mattered to her. She kissed her father who passed her hand from his to Donovan’s. Through the nervous chatter inside her head, she heard the prompting from the pastor and said the right words.
When Donovan finished saying “till death do us part,” he leaned in to kiss Becca.
The pastor stopped him before his lips connected with Becca’s. “We’re not at that part yet.”
Donovan’s cheeks turned pink, and he said, “Sorry, I’m kind of excited to be married.” Their friends and family laughed at his apology.
The swirl of butterflies dancing around Becca’s belly calmed when they kissed. The touch silenced all the concerns she had about being a fraud. A gentle voice within her whispered, “This is real,” and her heart sighed as if it had been relieved of a burden almost too heavy to bear. The tenderness of the kiss traveled to a place—a place deep within her nobody else had ever reached, and she never wanted the feeling to end. Donovan was the first to break the kiss. He kept his eyes on hers as he grinned in response to the hoots and hollers from their small-town family.
They walked hand in hand down the aisle. Beaming with joy, Donovan kissed her again at the end of the aisle and then whispered, “We did it. We really did it.”
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THEY WERE ONLY STAYING at the hotel for the evening and then they were headed on a plane for their honeymoon to Hawaii. After Donovan's confession of them waiting to get married to experience the more intimate side of marriage, her father insisted on paying for the room. Becca wanted to die when Donovan told her father the truth, and she was sure she was going to collapse from the loss of blood to her brain when her father said it again.
The verity of situations hits people at different times. For Becca, it was when they stepped into the honeymoon suite. They were married. Pretty soon, married people things were going to happen. What if he saw her undressed and was repulsed by her? What if the reality of being with him was nowhere near what she imagined? Like the complete opposite of pleasant. She glanced at the door. There was no turning back now.
Donovan sat on the end of the bed. The only bed in the room.
She must have made a face because he asked, “What’s wrong. You don’t like it?”
“No, I like it. It’s just. There’s only one bed.” Prior to the wedding, Donovan made sure to keep any signs of affection between them to a minimum. She justified the distance as evidence of their marriage being in name only. This one bed situation was not in line with anything they'd experienced before the wedding.
He joined her where she stood paralyzed with nervousness and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to guide her further into the room. “It would be bad for business if they had two beds in the honeymoon suite. We are married after all.”
“I. It’s just.” Becca stammered. “I didn’t know what to expect.”
“I know it’s awkward.” His arm went from her shoulder to her hand. “In normal circumstances, I would have done things differently. You know go out on dates, and hold your hand, and push my luck. We’ll go slow.”
What could she say? They were married. Based on what she experienced at the wedding and reception, there was no doubting his feelings for her.
Becca loved Donovan. She had for quite some time. However, the discussions over the three weeks preceding the wedding centered around the ceremony and not how she and Donovan actually felt about each other. She came to the safe conclusion that he wanted the ceremony to provide the validation the lawyer required. Consequently, she buried her feelings of love or any expectations of reciprocity. Now she had an even larger problem. What if she buried her feelings so deep they never came to the surface? Or worse, they came back not liking him.
Either he was oblivious of her hesitance, or he expected it and read some “How To Be A Newlywed,” blogs. His response was perfect. “We can just take it easy. It’s been a long day. You know hang out on the deck, play a game of cards, go for a walk. Whatever you like.”
To her relief, he didn’t say anything about consummating their marriage. “Is it okay if we just put on some pajamas and hang out in the room? After being around people all day, I want to relax.”
Donovan exhaled a deep breath. “I’m with you there.” He unbuckled his belt, sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. After setting them neatly at the foot of the bed, he slid out of his pants to reveal his athletic boxer briefs. Across the band, it read, “Just married.” If pressed, she’d have guessed that he lost a bet.
Becca wanted to ask what he was doing, but it was obvious. Part of her wanted to object to the strip tease; the other part was too busy peeking at the striations in his leg muscles. She slipped and asked, “Have you been working out more?”
“No, I walk a lot. But thank you for noticing.” His smile showed he was just as nervous as her.
Donovan began unbuttoning his shirt and stopped on the third button down from the top. “Aren’t you going to get into something more comfortable?”
“Oh, yes.” Becca shook her head to bring her back to reality and went to roll her travel case into the bathroom.
She didn’t get too far when Donovan objected, “Wait a minute. I gave you a show. Don’t you think it’s fair that you do the same?”
“Maybe, next time.” Becca hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Through the door, Donovan called, “I’m going to hold you to that.”
For the remainder of the night, they lounged around the room. He in his boxers and t-shirt and her in a feminine version of the same outfit. Her bottoms were pink tartan plaid.
“Did you see Keane with Hannah?” Becca asked.
“No, to be honest, you were the only person I really paid any attention to.”
It was a lie. But it was one she appreciated him making. He had spent half the night with his groomsmen playing drinking games. It was no wonder he was able to stay awake as long as he had.
His eyes drooped to give away the effects of the excitement. Becca stood on what she’d say was her side of the bed and pulled back the covers. Donovan moved enough on his side of the bed to pull back the covers. He crawled beneath them and waited for her to do the same. Becca got in on her side of the bed and turned off the light. The next thing she knew, Donovan wrapped his body around hers. He kissed her on the neck and whispered, “This is our first night as a married couple.”
Becca hadn’t taken him for a cuddler. Sure, he liked to hug, and he was friendly. The affectionate man laying beside her was a complete and pleasant surprise. She relaxed into him and tried to sleep. It didn’t work.
In another attempt to calm her nerves, she listened to his steady breathing and tried using the rhythm to settle down. His cologne worked her senses into overdrive. After years of convincing herself that dreaming of Donovan was not right; actually being with him was more than her mind was able to reconcile.
As his sleep deepened, Donovan’s arm grew heavy. Becca, on the other hand, was still as alert as if it were the first thing in the morning. Her mind refused to be comfortable with the idea that not only was she married to Donovan Garrison, but she was also sleeping in his arms.
After laying there for what felt like hours, she carefully extricated herself from his grip. He sighed, rolled over to his other side and fell back into a comfortable sleep.
Remembering that she packed her favorite blanket, Becca got it from the suitcase and made herself comfortable on the couch that was on the wall facing the bed. From there, with the help of the moonlight, she watched Donovan sleep until her mind drifted into its own state of slumber.
She slept fitfully until the sun shone in her eyes compelling them to open. Her eyes traveled to the bed to find it empty. Becca sat up to search the room for Donovan’s whereabouts. The open bathroom door told her he wasn't in there. Her next guess was that he went to the buffet for coffee. She looked down to step onto the floor and found him there, beside the couch, sleeping with a pillow and the comforter from the bed. Not wanting to disturb him, she laid back down and placed her hand on his back.
A subtle softness joined the stirrings within her. With them, she relaxed and allowed herself to consider Donovan’s vision of this being their happily ever after before drifting back to sleep.