There are explosive hoots and hollers from the room. So loud that things turn hypnotic for me. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard such a boisterous outburst without the organ playing.
Flashes of our past flood my brain. From the time I met him at the country club in Moorestown, to our first inbox message, to our first kiss, to my first visit to Alpine, then his shower in Philly, then sitting on the yellow rock in the Cayman Islands, to crying for a week straight, then the anxiety of having to tell him I was pregnant, to Jordan’s first Christmas, my graduation from Princeton, then the look on Stenton’s face when he learned I’d been with another man in Dallas, to opening the bakery, to Brazil, to my mother’s birthday party almost two months ago, then finally to thoughts of giving up the hope of ever being with Stenton again.
I feel a popping of my consciousness. The next thing I feel is Stenton absorbing me into his long arms. He kisses me on the forehead before peering down on me.
“What’s wrong?” Stenton asks with his smile still intact, but with wrinkled brows, too.
“I-I don’t recall saying yes,” I say with a tremble in my chords.
His smile falters, but just marginally. “You did. Are you changing your mind already?”
“Oh, I did?”
“Yes, Zo, you did.” He cups my face adoringly with his hands to examine me.
When I feel his callous pads wipe my tears from my face, I realize I’m crying. It hits me: While subconsciously rolodexing all the peaks and valleys of our relationship, I consciously agreed to marry him. I don’t know how that happened, but even while being aware of the pain from our past, I chose this man to be my future. There is no other man I would have chosen to endure those years with. No other man I would trust to hold my heart in safe holdings all these years while he figured out himself to know what to do with it.
“I love you, Stenton,” I mouth to him.
“I would try to show you how much I love you, but I don’t think this is the right setting to do it in.”
He wants to kiss me—at least. God only knows what else he wants to do before leaving town for a while.
Stenton’s eyes peel away from mine and I follow them to my father.
“Seems like your days are coming and mine are numbered. I’ve already welcomed you. Can I at least congratulate my daughter?”
With a respectful nod, Stenton releases me to my father who wraps me tightly and whispers in my ear, “If he crosses the line just a little bit, I still have a bullet waiting with his name on it from seven years ago.” I choke on my tears. I can’t believe I’m crying. “You will be well, Elizabeth. I have no doubt.”
“Thanks, Daddy,”
I’m passed off to my mother, Ezra, Angela, Pastor Whitaker, Karen and others, who wear countless faces. It’s not lost upon me that Bernard isn’t in sight. It isn’t until I return to long arms I crave each day that I feel comfort return.
“I have to go.”
Now sadness.
I peer up to Stenton’s handsome face, wanting to say so much, but knowing now’s not the time.
“Okay,” I mutter.
Then I walk with my hand laced with Stenton’s on one side and Jordan’s on the other to the truck awaiting him. When we arrive there, Stenton stoops to hug Jordan goodbye and gives him a few words of expectation for the start of his school year this week. I know it bothers Stenton that he won’t be around for it. This year, he has a business trip before training camp.
Then he stands and faces me. “You know what’s next, right? The subsequent step in this whole thing.”
I’m confused. “What?”
“Planning a wedding.”
My neck jerks back. “Already? But that’s a lot of work. I’m sure we need months of planning for that!”
I can’t help my distasteful response. Immediately, I can tell it was over the top and not well received based on Stenton’s crestfallen expression. But it’s too late, I’ve already revealed my reservations. Although they aren’t about being with him forever, there’s no going back.
“We’re not going backwards, Zo.” His nostrils are flared.