Chapter Thirteen
Eric was going to strangle this photographer.
He'd been told he and his groomsmen had to come to the church two hours before the wedding to "get ready." He had no idea what Tami was doing in that other Sunday School room, but Eric and his guys were fully dressed and ready to go in under twenty minutes.
Then the photographer had come in and started molding them into ridiculous poses and snapping away. This had gone on for almost an hour, or so it felt. Now the man was insisting that Eric sit on a stool and hold one of those hour-glass sand timers, and look at it with fear, as though his very freedom were running out, while his groomsmen stood about with shocked expressions.
"It'll be funny," the photographer insisted.
"It'll make us look like idiots," John Paul said.
Philip Andrew looked up from the book he'd brought, which he was reading between shots. "It'll be insulting to Tami. Eric's entering a holy union. Not a prison."
"Listen," Grady said, "the groom's had enough pictures. Why don't you go get the bride and the bridesmaids?"
"Umm….they're not letting me in yet," the photographer said. "But I have another idea. You're going to like this one."
[*]
Tami admired her dress in the oval mirror and fretted over a few out-of-place hairs.
"You look gorgeous," her mother told her while Cindy handed Angie a hair pick who handed it to Shelley like they were on an assembly line.
Just as the hairs were arranged back in place, Betty Taylor popped into the room. After gushing over how beautiful Tami looked, she said, "James and I are so happy to be gaining a daughter today." She was half crying, and Tami couldn't help but hug her, even if it messed up her hair again.
"She's rather emotional, Eric's mother," Tami's mom observed when she was gone.
"Nothing wrong with that," Tami told her.
"I just find it strange," Ms. Hayes said, "given how reserved her husband and son are."
"Eric can be emotional," Tami said. "Just…in a manly way. Privately."
"In bed?" Shelley asked.
Tami glared at her.
"Don't be vulgar, Shelley," their mother told her. "I'm sure Tami's been a good girl and saved herself for marriage."
Thinking of how often Eric murmured good girl in her ear when she came, Tami tried not to laugh. She wasn't sure her mother really believed her own words, but she didn't dare contradict them. Ms. Hayes needed her illusions.
[*]
Once, when Eric had shown up late for football practice, his coach had made him do a ridiculous number of up-downs. When the drill finally ended, Eric had stood up and felt suddenly, overwhelmingly dizzy.
He felt like that now as he watched Tami walk down the aisle toward him. Her uncle, a man Eric had never met before yesterday, was giving her away. Her long hair flowed in carefully styled waves beneath her veil and over her bare shoulders, and the dress was so dazzlingly white that he had to blink. Grady put a hand on his shoulder and pressed down, as if to hold him in place, and from behind Grady, John Paul muttered, "Steady on now."
When Tami was facing him, Eric swallowed and smiled lightly. The pastor gave the welcome, and John Paul broke the groomsmen line to do the Scripture reading – not the "sexy reading" he had threatened Eric with at Thanksgiving, but the far more traditional: "Love is patient, love is kind...it is not self-seeking...it keeps no records of wrongs…" Eric didn't hear much of the passage.
The wedding sermon seemed to go on forever. Eric thought that a Catholic priest would have been more to the point. The couple exchanged traditional Protestant vows. Eric nearly dropped the ring when Grady handed it to him, but he managed at last to slide it unsteadily onto Tami's finger. When Eric was finally permitted to kiss his bride, he didn't want to pull away. She did first, blushing and laughing.
[*]
The reception followed at Bob's Steakhouse. After the newlywed couple shared their first dance, the floor was opened up to the guests.
To save money, and to appease her mother, Tami did not have any alcohol at the reception. Some of the guests grumbled a bit about the fact. Even Tami's non-drinking father-in-law quipped about it. Tami overheard him telling a joke to his wife: "There are three truths about religion, my love. Jews do not recognize Jesus as the Messiah, Protestants do not recognize the Pope as leader of the Christian faith, and Methodists do not recognize one another in the liquor store."
When Mr. Taylor claimed his dance with her, Tami asked, as he led her about the floor, "How many Methodist jokes do you have?"
"Well, I have Catholic jokes too."
"Really? Tell me one."
He twirled her out of the way of Shelley and Philip Andrew. It wasn't clear who was leading that dance. It looked like Shelley might be. "How many Catholics does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"I don't know. How many?"
"None. They use candles."
She smiled slightly. The conversation lagged as they continued to dance, so she said, "So this must be where Eric gets his dancing talent from."
"Well, it depends on the type of dance. My wife talked me into Cha Cha lessons once. The adventure did not end well."
Tami laughed.
"Your new husband," Mr. Taylor told her, "attempted break dancing the summer before his sophomore year of high school."
"No."
"Oh, yes. He bought himself a book. And some Betamax tapes. Back before we got the VHS. That was another adventure that did not end well. He sprained his wrist."
"Do you have photographic evidence?" Tami asked.
"My wife may have a shot or two of one of his performances. She'll sell them for a price."
Shelley twirled by again with Phillip Andrew, who appeared quite perplexed by whatever she was saying.
"My poor nephew," Mr. Taylor said. "Your sister won't leave him alone. That's their second dance. And he really just wants to sneak off into a corner and finish his copy of St. Augustine's Confessions."
Tami found herself laughing yet again. "You're in a surprisingly good mood." If he weren't a non-drinker, and if there had been any alcohol available, she would have thought he was buzzed.
"Well," he glanced toward a corner of the steakhouse where Betty Taylor was talking to Tami's mom, "My wife looks especially beautiful today, don't you think?"
"She does."
"And, despite going through an entire box of tissues during the wedding, she's happy. And that makes me happy." He gracefully sidestepped Shelley as she nearly crashed Philip Andrew into them.
Mr. Taylor nodded his head to Tami slightly when the music stopped and went to ask his wife to dance to the next song.
Shelley went on to dance with nearly all of Eric's other cousins, – first Peter Francis, then his twin brother Nathan Gregory, then John Paul, and finally Geoffrey. Geoffrey, oddly, didn't have a middle name, at least not one that Tami knew. The youngest of Eric's male cousins, Stephen Patrick, actually asked Shelley to dance, but she turned up her nose because he was a mere 8th grader.
Phillip Andrew, meanwhile, hid out by the punch bowl, next to John Paul, who was just then telling Tami that she looked "absolutely stunning" in her wedding dress.
"Don't let your girlfriend-of-the-hour hear you say that," Tami told him.
"I didn't bring a girlfriend," John Paul said. "Although…." He glanced across the room at Cindy. "Does your bridesmaid have a boyfriend?"
"No," Tami told him. "And she did tell me she thought you have a fantastic voice for radio."
"Well, at least she didn't say I have a face for radio."
"But I wouldn't wish you on her," Tami said with a smile. "Because I know it won't last a week."
"But it might be the best week of her life," John Paul suggested.
Philip Andrew sighed. "You should date a nice Catholic girl for a change."
"So should you," John Paul said. "Or any girl for that matter. Just look up from your books for a moment. You might find one."
Just then, Shelley suddenly appeared before them. "You want to dance?" she asked Philip Andrew.
"Uh….again? We just…"
Shelley grabbed Philip's hand and tugged him toward the floor. He was spared only by the announcement that the dinner and toasts were about to begin and everyone should take their seats.
