“Man, I wish I could have pulled off a skirt,” Hilt says. “Wifey would have been angry if I outshone her, though.”
“It’s not a skirt,” I argue. “I’m very obviously wearing trousers. It’s a jacket train or something.”
“‘Or something’ must be the professional term,” Julian says.
The image I first saw online months ago came to life, but even better. I’m in a dark blue suit and my jacket doesn’t just fall to my ass. It continues down and fans out like a train. And when I’m ready to take this off, I look pretty damn sharp without it, too.
“You look great,” Hilt promises, resting his hand on my forearm.
It’s not often I get insecure. I can’t help wondering what people are going to think. Is it a bold fashion choice? Am I goingto be seen as feminine now? Am I just delusional and this is a horrendous look?
“Hey,” Hilt pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up. “Do you like how you look? Are you comfortable?”
I glance at my reflection in the mirror and try to see myself without my vision being clouded by doubt. I think the pants could be longer, but apparently, trousers are supposed to be floods unless you’re standing perfectly still. My shoes are a little shinier than I like. I prefer matte to gloss. Those are details I maybe should have thought about.
Otherwise… I think I look really good. “Yeah,” I answer.
“Then stop worrying about it. This day is about you and Etna. Not everyone else.”
“That’s a mantra I’ve been trying to remember,” I admit. “There are those who say the wedding and reception are for the guests, so everything you plan and do should be with them in mind. Then there’s the other camp who says fuck all that, this day is about me. That’s what we’ve been trying to remember. Itisabout us and the only people who have to look back with fond memories are us.”
“Exactly. And you really do look great.”
“Thanks. Let’s go. It’s time, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Julian confirms.
They head for the door and I follow but pause just inside and close my eyes. My stomach feels like I’ve been doing acrobatics for the past hour. This is really happening. I know this is what we’ve been working toward for the past seven months, but it always felt like it was wavering in the distance, like we were never getting closer.
Suddenly we’re here. It’s happening. In less than ten minutes, I’ll be standing in front of my best friend, promising my life to him.
Chills race down my body, and I close my eyes again. This is really it. A smile spreads across my face. I’m really marrying Etna Yreka. He’s mine for the rest of my life.
After taking a cleansing breath, I scoop up my train and sling it over my arm, only slightly, trying not to wrinkle it. Luckily, Sandra said it shouldn’t wrinkle too badly because of the type of fabric used. I step outside.
Hilt and Julian are waiting for me just outside. It’s a short walk to the ceremony site down a specific path one of our photographers, Theodore, leads us down. He orbits around us like a solar satellite, taking pictures as he goes.
“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you right now?” Julian asks.
“First game of the season nervous,” I answer, chuckling. “I’m excited but ready to jump out of my skin. Like, I want to experience it, but I also want it to be over, so I know how it turns out.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like,” Hilt says, laughing.
The closer we get, the louder it becomes. Not riot loud, but the sound of 200 people in a close area talking over the quiet sound of background music.
I look up and find Caffeine Daydreams off to the right on a small temporary platform beyond the guests at the front. They’re strumming something quietly. Background music.
Lead singer Luca, drummer Arlo, and Kai and Silas with their relationship that reminds me a lot of what Etna and I must have looked like to all our friends. They’re right there in front of me. Singing at my wedding. I swear, this isn’t real. I must be dreaming. When will I wake up?
Movement to the right makes me turn my attention and my breath catches. My man is wearing an equally untraditional suit in charcoal gray. The front has two diamonds crossing over eachother, so you can’t see how the jacket is buttoned. It’s a mixture of elegant gray and ornate gray in a subtle design.
I love everything about it. Especially the man who’s filling it out quite nicely. He’s a wet dream. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be stiff as I walk down the aisle with him.
Etna’s smiling at me as our two small parties converge. He has Lo with him. I hadn’t seen him arrive. When we get close, Lo wraps his arms around me and hugs me for a beat longer than he ever has in the past.
“I’m so happy for you,” he whispers.
“Thanks for being here.”
