Compared to those two events, my proposal five months later was a cakewalk.
I knew that Diana would accept, because she had been asking me once a week for about six straight weeks, "when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I was giving it enough time to make sure she was not just trying to move out of the house to get away from her sister after an argument. Diana had truly become The One that I was willing to risk either Happily Ever After or Divorce For Dummies. I was all-in on Happily Ever After.
This was not Diana's first rodeo, as if engagements were anything akin to rodeos. Diana had been engaged to Peter twice; the fool had backed out each time. Because of that, Diana had some dress rehearsal experience with all the mechanics of lining up a traditional wedding: planners, invitations, photographers, churches, clergy, receptions, and a whole bunch of other stuff that men never discover until they are sucked into the Wedding Industry Vortex and drowned. Diana was making use of my somewhat limited artistic talents to save hundreds of dollars more than I thought anyone could reasonably charge to address the wedding invitations. No one would have paid me for the calligraphy work that I turning out if I was trying to do this for a living, but it was better than most Do It Yourself jobs, or at least so Diana thought.
Despite being engaged, we were not living together. We came the mutual agreement not to move in together until after the wedding for several reasons. The first was that my lease specifically said that there was only to be one occupant in the apartment, and I didn't want to be both kicked out and be paying an early lease termination fee. The second was that Diana's family definitely tilted the boat to the conservative side, thinking that the Cleavers were still the prototype for all families to aspire. The third was that Diana had been this far before and it had all fallen apart on her. Although I had no intention of Pulling A Peter on her - no, I don't mean that in the Beavis and Butthead way - I respected her worries and didn't push. Besides, we were spending most evenings at my place anyway until about 10:00, going over wedding plans and occasionally... doing other things... with me prepared for them this time.
We were at my apartment one evening, doing more wedding preparation work. It was That Time Of The Month in Dianaland, so it was going to be an evening of work, with maybe some petting later if her mood allowed it. We had some recently completed envelopes arranged around the room on furniture and shelves for the ink to dry. I was completing an envelope on the average of one every five minutes, if you didn't count the occasional mistake that resulted in its shredding and starting over. Diana was going through some other checklist and making notes when we were interrupted by the ringing of her cellphone. Grumbling "hang on" under her breath, Diana fished the noisy device out of her purse.
"Hello?" Diana said politely into the cellphone. I then noticed her stiffening upright in my peripheral vision.
"Oh! Hi! I'm so happy to finally talk to you!" She then looked about urgently and started speaking breathlessly into the phone at machine-gun pace. "Can you hang on just one second don't hang up please it will only take a second?"
I gave her a questioning look.
Diana cupped her hand over the cellphone microphone. "Honeybunny, I really gotta take this call in private," she whispered.
I shrugged and went back to my amateurish calligraphy work. "Not a problem."
Private meant the bedroom with the door shut, which was fine with me. I could turn out a few more invitation envelopes while she handled the call. It was not until I handled my fifth one that I began to wonder if Diana had fallen through a trap door that I had not yet discovered in my own bedroom.
"Diana?" I called out.
Two heartbeats passed before she opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out to look at me.
"You okay?" I asked.
She smiled, nodded, retreated behind the door and closed it again.
I completed another three envelopes before she emerged with a small note. She handed it to me.
"Mrs. A. Carter?" I asked, reading it.
"Someone I'm inviting," Diana replied casually.
I didn't recognize the name from the list of relatives that Diana had shown me, and I didn't know anyone with that last name. "Friend of yours?"
"New one," she answered. "Didn't have the address before now."
"Anyone I know?" I asked, wondering if this person worked down in Accounting or in Support Services with her.
Diana shrugged.
I looked at the note again and squinted to clarify my vision. It didn't work. "Angel, you're really going to have to get better at training me to read this chicken scratch. Is that an eight or a six?"
She squinted along with me at the Bronze Age Cuneiform. "It's a zero."
I grunted. "I'm keeping the checkbook."
"Like hell you are," she replied. "I'm going to know where every cent goes!"
"I'm not your father," I reminded her.
"Thank Heaven," she sighed in relief.
"Let's just hope the IRS can read your handwriting better than I can," I joked.
She looked at me, admonishment in her face and playfulness in her eyes. "Oh, no, you're doing the taxes, Mister Math Wiz."
I tried to give her a Clint Eastwood squint. "And who decided this?"
"Fine print in the marriage license" she joked. "You should have read it more closely."
"Wonder what else is there?" I muttered.
Diana gave a wide smile. "Oh, it's going to be so much fun showing you!"
Everyone would love to say that their wedding ceremony went off without a hitch. No one's does. Ours was no different, but we were able to overcome the last-minute obstacles. Her friends and family on the left side of the church were triple the count of mine and threatened to capsize the building their way. She had a bigger family and more friends that lived closer to the city. I grew up in the next state over, and the only thing most of my friends and family heard about the city was its crime rate, its political corruption, its awful traffic, and its lousy sports teams; most chose to stay away and send a gift in their stead. But even if her side outnumbered mine, my side could take hers in a fair fight.
Diana didn't back out at the last minute. Looking lovingly into my eyes, she answered," I will," after the minister asked, "Diana, will you take this idiot...?"
Guess there's a sucker born every minute. If a year wasn't long enough for her to realize that she was in love with a fool, she was never going to learn.
Some applause, tossed confetti, and numerous poses for photographs later, we were the center of attention at our wedding reception. Diana and I were being put through the ritual embarrassments: the toasts; the dances; the speeches; yada; blah; et cetera.
I was barely paying attention to anyone else besides Diana and the wedding planner when suddenly I felt a tremendous Disturbance in the Force that shifted the floor underneath me.
At first, I thought it was simply the twitching corpse of my bachelorhood still in its death throes. I was hoping that it was the monster finally dying after a decades-long siege. But my SpideySense continued to shriek out in my brain. It was a couple of minutes more before I realized that it rang out the strongest when I looked towards a certain area of the room.
Then I saw it.
I noticed the gait first. Some people have a way of walking that you cannot imitate. I could always pick my best friend growing up out of all the players on the football field because of the way his shoulders rocked from side to side as he trotted from the sideline into the huddle, even if someone was behind him and blocking his jersey number from view. The same recognition software in my brain was kicking in now and raising a Red Alert.
Two people on the far side of the room were walking abreast, heading from their table to the lobby. The shorter one, wearing a floor-length creme gown, was closer to me and blocking part of the taller one from view.
I knew that stride anywhere. I had it memorized.
My peripheral vision faded to black. My heart stopped beating and my lungs forgot how to breathe.
Hadn't I paid enough penance? Could the Universe be this cruel?! Must I face Darth Vader again? Now?!
The hair was longer, the body had an extra pound or two on it, but as sure as I was standing there, it was her, heading to the lobby in the company of a brunette.
Then, just as a Jedi can sense the presence of a Sith nearby, the woman turned her head towards me.
Our eyes locked.
I was no longer aware of the pop-synth-romance blather coming through the PA system or the people around me. Instead, I was transported to a dusty dirt street in a Western movie ghost town, complete with creaking saloon doors that groaned against the tumbleweed-tossing winds as an unseen Flamenco guitar played ominously in the background. Thirty paces away, standing in a haze of swirling dust was a lone figure, a wide-brimmed hat hiding its face, a torn brown poncho draped over its shoulders and fluttering in the wind, a pistol hanging from its right hip, its right hand dangerously close to the butt of the pistol and reaching nearer, its legs spread shoulder distance apart. Slowly, the figure raised its head, first exposing the unlit cigar clenched in teeth behind ruby-red lips, then a flutter of scarlet hair in the breeze, and finally blue-green irises glaring out from squinted eyelids, locking with mine.
Cue the Ennio Morricone soundtrack: Ayieayieah! Whaaaah whaaaah whaaaah...!
The gunslinger's jaw clenched. Her body twitched. A single clap of thunder roared. Something slammed into my chest with battering ram force. My heart stopped.
I blinked.
Then I wondered who constructed this reception hall from the ghost town in the fraction of an instant that it took for my eyelids to reopen.
I felt a gentle nudge, and it woke me partially from my stupor.
"Honeybunny? You okay?"
"My God," I whispered blankly, afraid that I was about to summon Voldemort by speaking his name aloud. "It's Lisa..."
Next time on Springer: Ex-girlfriend shows up at a wedding; Stupid Ass Groom forgets his wedding vows and rushes after her; Blushing Bride turns to Bloody Bride and goes on murderous rampage. Would any jury in the land convict her? Sponsored by Dewey, Fleecem and Howe: Attorneys specializing in Divorce and Personal Injury cases.
Diana reacted in the way I least expected, seeming instantly excited. "Really?! I wasn't sure they came! Where?"
"Heading out the lobby," I muttered.
"Damn," Diana cursed. "I really wanted to meet her! Go and hold her up for a second! I'll be right over?"
"Huh?" I asked, vapor-locked and confused. My One And Only actually wanted to meet The One That Got Away? Aside from seeking blackmail information, I could not imagine why. Perhaps in my wildest fantasy there was the possibility that Lisa Williams would materialize, bless my union and give me the closure I long sought. In the real world? In the wedding planner's checklist?
"You move faster than I do, even in those rented shoes!" Diana urged. "Go stop her!"
Maybe this wasn't a test. Maybe this wasn't supremely stupid, although at that moment I could not understand how it wasn't the pinnacle of Stupidity. With my mind firmly locked in confusion, my body simply reacted to Diana's orders. With just enough politeness but not any more than necessary, I excused myself through several people who tried to get my attention as I passed by the guest tables.
The two of them were halfway across the lobby and heading towards the exit with their backs facing me when I caught sight of them. Despite my attempt to sound calm, my voice seemed panicked when I heard it reverberate back to me off the lobby walls.
"Lisa! Allison! Wait up a second?"
The pair stopped and looked over their shoulder at me: Allison with a genuine curiosity as to who was interrupting; Lisa with the guilt of a felon caught in the act of the crime. Allison then leaned into Lisa and whispered something.
Lisa stiffened and muttered something back, not able to take her eyes off of me as I approached.
Allison leaned in again, and looking straight at me, mouthed three words that looked like "talk to him," through my amateur lip-reading ability. Then, in a louder voice that I could make out, she announced that she'd go outside to flag down a taxi cab.
I slowed as I came nearer, sensing in Lisa's posture the fear of a squirrel caught in the middle of a busy highway and uncertain of which way to dart. She turned as slowly to face me as a schoolgirl would if she were about to receive a scolding from a school principal.
My voice betrayed my trepidation. I'm sure my face did as well, but there was no mirror handy to confirm that.
"Leaving so soon?" I tried to ask gently.
Lisa flashed that nervous, lower-lip-biting smile of hers.
My Kryptonite. Or, at least it used to be. It still made me weak to see it, but not nearly as much as it used to. Strangely, the sight of it eased my anxiety. There was no vindictiveness, no hatred, no envy, no bitterness in that smile or in the eyes above them that were searching for anything other than my face on which to focus. She was simply nervous.
In an instant, my archive of Lisa Williams material loaded in from backing storage into real memory, and I quickly understood the meaning of the facial expressions, the eye movements, and the body language. More than simple nervousness was there. She was scared. Perhaps her Jedi Master was forcing her into that one last confrontation with her own personal Darth Vader, and Lisa was probably more afraid than I was. I did not want my possible last sight of Lisa to be etched into my memory forever as a portrait of fear. I decided to be a gentleman and offer her a polite excuse to leave.
"I know," I said. "Bit of a dull party, huh? Boring: just like me. But you already knew that."
Lisa risked a look up into my eyes. "Not boring. Simple."
"Yeah, I guess," I agreed clumsily, trying not to break out into an idiot grin. She still had a power over me, even if it was now somewhat diminished.
"You always preferred things simple," Lisa continued. "You were that guy who had to scrape all the stuff off his hamburger because you only wanted meat and a bun, nothing else."
"Still am. I know, you always found that kind of embarrassing," I offered lamely.
"But honest," she added.
I didn't want to look around for Diana because I didn't want Lisa to take such a gesture as an excuse to leave, but I also could not sense Diana's presence nearby. I also did not hear any hurried clacking of bride heels. I needed to stall for a little more time. I chose the obvious way, gazing at her in that tastefully subdued yet flattering creme gown, one worn by someone who wanted to appear attractive in a formal setting yet not deflect any attention away from the bride.
"You look amazing in that gown," I smiled.
Lisa blushed. "Says James Bond in the tux."
I chuckled. "I turn into a pumpkin at 7:30. That's when the rental company strips me naked to get the suit back."
"Not exactly a scene I'd want to remember for my wedding day," she tried to joke.
I could see it behind her eyes, in the furrows of her brow, in the tooth marks she was leaving in her lower lip. There was a war waging behind all that, a battle between something struggling to burst out and the police barrier erected to keep it within. It pained me to watch that struggle. I cared a little less now in stalling for Diana to arrive, and a little more about the predicament that Lisa must be enduring. I still cared for Lisa too damned much to watch her squirm like this. I decided to make the sacrifice for the both of us and be the goat.
"Look... Lisa, I..." I began, dropping my eyes to the floor in a search for my invisible inspiration.
"Don't do it, David," Lisa interrupted immediately, obviously sensing the serious turn of tone in my voice.
I could imagine her being afraid that I would turn this into an embarrassing spectacle custom tailored for a soap opera. I thought she expected me to start demanding answers, or to accuse her of lying, or for me to channel my inner Ross Chandler and start professing my undying love for her on my own wedding day. My motive was far simpler, and I tried to explain it despite her polite protest.
"Lisa, I was only going to..."
"You were going to say that it was all your fault, because that's exactly what you think I want to hear," she said ashamedly.
She guessed it in one shot.
Her agony was still there, played out in her face. I still cared about this woman, even though I had pledged myself to another woman only two hours earlier. I was not going to let her bear the burden that was mine. Not because I wanted the role of sacrificial lamb, but because I didn't want her bearing the guilt in her own heart. Lisa was finally whole and I didn't want the weight of the blame for our relationship to poison her life now that she had found happiness for herself. I'd been dealing with it for years; I could learn to live with it. She didn't need to.
"Because it was my fault," I offered.
Lisa sighed and closed her eyes. She used to do that when she was trying to screw up the courage, usually to ask me to do something she knew I had no interest in doing. "David, I... I should have confided in you. I should have trusted you as much as you trusted me. But it turns out that even if I had told you, I would have been wrong, and it would have been worse for both of us."
The stream of illogic utterly confused me, and I did not have a Vulcan handy to help me navigate it. By telling me the truth, she would have lied?
"Why?" I stammered. "Because... because of your orientation?"
"No," she said, her eyes now open but unable to look at me. "I would have sworn in a court of law that I was straight. I also would have sworn that, if I had told you what you wanted me to tell you, it would have been the truth. But it would have been a lie, one I made to protect myself from my mistakes. Worse yet, I would not have known I was lying to you, and I'd blame you more."
I was no less confused, but I could see this was hurting her. I wished for an explanation but not a public torture session. I couldn't bear to watch it, and I did not want our possibly final parting to be a lasting memory of more agony.
"Lisa, you don't have to explain..."
"Yes, I do," she disagreed. She then looked me in the face again, and I saw for the first time something I never saw before in her eyes: her regret.
"No, Lisa, you..." I tried.
"I had to lose Ally before I understood it," she continued, ignoring me. "It wasn't the straight or the gay or the kink..."
My head reflexively cocked into its Confused Farley expression when the word "kink" tumbled forth, but she ignored the gesture. I chose to ignore the word because I was afraid that it was the squirrel distracting me from the real target.
"I... expected too much from you and nothing from me," she confessed in a shamed voice. "I did the same thing to Ally, too. You were supposed to do everything, know everything... be omnipotent. I left all the work to you. That way, I couldn't be blamed if things went wrong: it'd be your fault. When we stumbled, it was your job to figure it out and fix it, not mine... not ours, like it should have been. And you were so good at doing most of it, I laid back and expected you to do all of it. I was... an emotional couch potato."
"And I was different?" I asked, forcing myself to speak in measured, gentle tones. "By giving up? By making you think that you couldn't trust me enough to tell me something? By leaving you to face whatever it was by yourself instead of helping you? By throwing up my hands and letting you walk away without running after you? By sitting on my ass and waiting for you to come back to me instead of going out to find you again? Does that sound like someone committed to making a relationship work?" I paused for breath and to make sure that my voice was still calm and controlled. "Sound like a selfish bastard coward to me."
"You weren't a coward," she said meekly. "You tried... I... didn't. I'm... I'm sorry. Can you... forgive me?"
My heart suddenly gained fifty pounds and began sinking past my stomach. My eyes stung.
"I forgave you the day after you left," I whispered honestly. "It's me that I can't forgive."
Regret drained from her face, being replaced with the caring look that she used to give me back before "nothing" started. She grasped my biceps with hands that showed no signs of nervousness or anger. She used to do that when she was trying to console me. My heart stopped sinking.
"You have to," she pleaded, shaking my arms to punctuate her sentence. "Not for me, and not for you. You have to do it for Diana. You're not guilty of anything, she's certainly not guilty of anything! You can't carry this regret into your marriage. You can't punish her for this, and if you don't forgive yourself, that's exactly what you'll wind up doing in the end! Trust me, I know! I did it to every guy after you, and I did it to Ally before I let go of it!"
The mention of my new bride's name momentarily worried me, because I was afraid of what she might be thinking of this emotional spectacle playing out in plain sight on her wedding day, to say nothing of her mother's possible reaction to all of this if she saw it. But amidst it all, I felt more than I heard the concern in Lisa's voice. We were no longer lovers, but we still cared for each other, in spite of the horrid mess that our relationship had become, a mess to which we both contributed. Just as Lisa still meant something to me, I still meant something to her, even though we each had someone who now stood larger in our hearts.
Something moved behind Lisa that caught my attention. Coincidentally, something behind me attracted Lisa's attention as well, and she flashed a wide smile to the whatever it was just aside of my left shoulder. I had no idea who was the lucky recipient of that smile for a few moments, because the only other person that I thought deserved it was approaching us from behind Lisa. Allison was returning.
"If you have to hear me say it...," Lisa started, her smile fading.
"No," I interrupted, trying to smile gently and doing my best to be as unselfish as possible. "I don't. I just... Thanks."
Again, Lisa glanced passed my shoulder. The smile returned. "Diana's a good woman, David."
"Yes, she is," I softly agreed. "She's more than I deserve."
"No," Lisa disagreed politely in a slightly stronger voice, now looking into my chest. "She's exactly what you deserve. She's a good woman. You're a good man..."
She then raised her eyes to look into mine. Some regret still churned in those blue-green irises, and there was still a wish inside of me to help her overcome it.
"...You always were," she added meekly. "I'm happy for both of you."
I felt a tear starting to dribble down the left side of my nose, but I resisted the urge to wipe it away. I wanted it to remain in evidence as to how much Lisa's presence and her compassion at this moment touched me. Allison was only two steps away now. Unbidden, disjoint memories started clicking into place, revealing an answer to a question that I did not know I was asking: that private phone call; that last-minute invitation with the unreadable address; the initial "A." A for Allison? Allison Carter?
"And I'm overjoyed for you, Mrs. Carter," I sniffled through a wide smile. "Both of you."
Allison smiled and interrupted our conversation while standing behind Lisa. "Aw, your old boyfriend says the sweetest things."
Another voice sounded just behind my right shoulder, and I was suddenly aware that our little group had grown to four. "Would you just give her a hug, already?" Diana scolded playfully.
Allison gave a consenting nod of her head in Lisa's direction that she could not see.
When we had been a couple, Lisa would put her arms around my neck and I would put mine under her arms and above her waist when giving a hug. It made it easier to deliver the kiss that usually followed. But my kisses now belonged to an Angel from Heaven. Instead, I encircled Lisa's shoulders with my arms, and she wrapped hers around my midsection. The compassion that radiated from her as we embraced was anything but weak. It warmed the lobby in its glow.
"Friends?" I whispered hopefully into her hair.
Lisa chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I'd like that."
My heart had finally resumed its rightful place in my chest and went back to its usual weight.
"Trust her, David," Lisa whispered in a sincere voice. "But help her. She's just as lost and scared as you are. But she'll be with you every step of the way. Not like me."
"Not like we once were," I consoled her. "We were young. We made mistakes. But we're better now. All of us."
I released Lisa reluctantly. The moment we broke the embrace, Diana was greeting Lisa with puppy-dog enthusiasm. "I am so happy that you came! I've been wanting to meet you for so long! David's told me so much about you!"
Lisa shrank in embarrassment. "Nothing good, I'm sure."
Diana answered before I could defend myself. "Well, if there was something bad, I haven't heard it!"
Lisa started complementing Diana on her wedding gown. I used the opportunity to turn my attention towards Allison, and I extended a hand in gentlemanly greeting. "Thanks for comi..."
Allison was having none of my gentlemanly gesture. Instead, she stepped up and embraced me in a hug. Her heels gave her a one inch height advantage over me. "Congratulations, David!"
How do you hug a woman in the presence of your new bride? I missed that session with the wedding planner, and now I was on my second attempt at it in as many minutes. I returned the hug with just enough sincerity to make it genuine but not too energetically as to make it appear that I was already exploring personal contact from other women. In other words, as clumsily as humanly possible. Allison chucked in understanding at my predicament and broke the embrace.
"Thank you, Allison," I said sincerely. "You gave me just the slap I needed at the time I needed it."
"Happy to oblige," Allison replied through a wide smile.
"Yeah, she's good at slapping..." Lisa started to joke, and then clammed up quieter than Pandora after being asked if she opened a certain Box.
"Don't tempt me, Mrs. Carter," Allison grumbled. However, I guessed from the curved smile of Allison's lips that the remark had been more of an invitation than an admonishment. There was definitely some deeper meaning in those seemingly innocent words. Allison then looked at Diana and me. "You two have a wedding reception to get back to, and we have a cab waiting for us."
I nodded.
Still the puppy-dog, Diana asked, "well, at least text me your e-mail? I'd love to chat when we have more time!"
"You're still trying to dig up my secrets, aren't you?" I joked with my new bride.
"Every last one of them, Honeybunny!" she smirked.
"You'll have my e-mail in your text messages in five minutes," Lisa replied, sensing an opportunity to have some fun at my expense.
Although I was happy at the chance for Lisa to have fun with me again, even indirectly, I groaned liked the script demanded. "If she tells you about an episode at White Castle, I'm telling you right now, that never happened, no matter what the surveillance video shows!"
The three women laughed, and I knew right then that I had never heard sweeter music in my life.
Then Lisa did it, one last time.
She flashed me that smile.
I smiled back. "That's the look I want to remember."
Allison gave us the same smile before we all made our final goodbyes for the evening.
"So, Little Miss Size Four is what I've been trying to measure up to?" Diana snarked as we watched them exit and head for a parked taxi cab outside.
Once, that had been true. Not any longer, and never again. I turned to face my new bride and I gave her the most loving smile I possessed. "She can't hold a candle to you."
Diana was still looking after them and avoiding my eyes. "She can hold thirty pounds of candles and I'd still be heavier."
"Stop insulting my wife, Diana," I said gently. "Because I love my wife more than I've loved any person on this earth. You're the one I want, now and forever."
"Good answer," she finally said with a smile and turned to face me. "You feel better now?"
"Why'd you invite them?" I asked in a nervous whisper.
"Because I love you," she said. It was a simple response, but the image of caring and love her face spoke volumes more.
"More than I deserve," I said.
"You heard your old girlfriend's answer to that," Diana smiled. "I agree with her."
"Then you're both mentally disturbed," I joked.
"You're complaining?"
I laughed. "Nope." After a beat, my curiosity could no longer be ignored. "How'd you find them?"
"Scanned your contact list," she explained. "I figured that this Lisa with no last name had to be her."
"Did that make you jealous?" I asked, a little afraid of the answer.
"At first," my wife admitted. "But not after you told me what was really eating you up inside. And deep down, I'd rather we all be friends than enemies." She then sighed. "Let's get back. We've probably got a few more embarrassments ahead of us. Conga lines, food fights, that stupid garter crap, who knows what else? If we stay out here too much longer, they'll think we eloped."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" I asked, draping my arm over her shoulder as we started to head back into the reception hall.
"No," she answered, "but we have two problems. First, the limo's not returning until 6:00. The second is that I don't want people deciding to take their gifts back!"
