Orange and yellow butterflies flutter and swirl around us as we slide simple wedding bands onto each other’s ring fingers. The metal is cool against my skin, a stark reminder of the contract we signed only a few weeks ago. But the feeling of her delicate thumb brushing mine is anything but cold. Her gentle touch sends electric sparks dancing across my palm.
When it’s time to kiss my bride, I brush my lips over hers, once and twice and again. I take my time, ignoring the cheers and whistles from our audience.
I hear Rocco shouting, "Get a room!" but I couldn't care less.
I get lost in the feel of my wife’s lips, fully aware that I’m not supposed to feel like this. This sensation that I feel all the way down to my bones was not in the cards.
God. Am I actually falling for this woman?
The first time I got married, the ceremony was just a stiff, formal event at a chapel in Chicago. It was followed by a wine-fueled blur of a weekend at some vineyard that was way overpriced.
Don’t get me wrong. I have never regretted marrying Cynthia. She is the mother of my child. It was the right thing to do without a doubt.But our wedding day was so vastly different than today.
Today just feels so…real.
Too real for a quick business transaction that went down in my home office on a random Monday afternoon a few weeks ago.
So real that I kind of want to make good on the promises Jules and I have exchanged at the altar here today. So real thatI want to track down each copy of that marriage contract we signed and run it through a paper shredder.
So real that I think I might want to keep her when all this is over.
29
LINCOLN
The day’s events lasted far longer than I expected. It’s completely dark out by the time Jules, Cameron, and I are driving home from the wedding.
My new bride and my son are lost in an animated discussion about the DJ’s choice of music, and I’m just trying to figure out how my eight-year-old is not already passed out in the backseat.
I glance in the rearview mirror and see Cameron practically vibrating with residual energy. Somehow, it seems that the reception has only managed to amp up my kid.
The whole night was the exact kind of chaos you'd expect from fusing my family's wacky, easygoing nature with Jules's stuck-up, old money relatives.
Oh, and it certainly didn’t help that we threw an open bar into the mix.
We hired Chloe as our bartender tonight. She handled the drinks like the pro that she is, keeping the booze flowing all evening long and keeping the guests happy. The poor girl did her best to remain professional, and not judge our off-tune dance moves. But I could tell she was struggling not to crack up when one of Jules’s drunk uncles challenged my mom to a dance-off.
Speaking of the guests, the evening felt like an exercise in avoiding Jules’s slimy father at every turn. The man seemed determined to track me down and have ‘a fatherly word’ with me. But I wasn’t interested. I think I already know all that I need to know about that bastard and I definitely don’t need his advice.
Things got a little awkward during the toasts, especially when my new great grandma-in-law gave a passive-aggressive speech about the sanctity of marriage…while glaring at Jules’s father the entire time.
By the end of the evening, the dance floor was where everyone came together to get shamelessly unhinged. I hope I never have to see Rocco attempting ‘The Worm’ like that again.
Through all the chaotic conversations and awkward family introductions, the only thing that anchored me was Jules. Especially when I looked up and found her twirling Cameron around on the dance floor in her sexy dress and those biker boots.
Over the past few weeks, my son has been having a bit of a rough time handling this marriage thing. In theory, he likes Jules, but expecting him to suddenly accept a virtual stranger as his step-mother is a huge ask. It only adds to all the uncertainty that he’s already been feeling since our move to Fairy Bush.
I’ve tried my best to reassure him that me getting remarried won’t change the love I have for him. But I think that he’ll have to see our new domestic situation in action in order to really believe me. That’s why I appreciate Jules so much for actively trying to make him feel included in our unfamiliar new family dynamic.
“Dude, theCha Cha Slidesong is thebest,” Cameron argues from the backseat with a level of confidence that makes me chuckle. “I know every single move.”
“What?The Macarenawins by far. Once you’ve truly shaken your bum to Los del Rio, you can never go back,” Julestries to reason with him. She makes a dramatic show of the choreographed hand movements, hitting the dashboard with a soft thwack. “Ouch!” she squeals, making Cameron laugh.
“No way. I can’t even figure out what those singers are saying! It’s all mumble-jumbled up!” When I’m stopped at the red light outside of the grocery store, Cameron points at something through his window. “Look. They have ice cream on special! Can we go and get ice cream?”
I glance in the direction he’s pointing and notice the blown-up thirty percent off add in the shop window.
I shake my head as we wait for the traffic light to change. “I’m sorry, Buddy. No ice cream tonight. You have school tomorrow, remember? Plus, I’ve got that business trip in a few days, and I still need to do some work to prepare for my meetings.” I hit the gas when the light turns green.
