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The Dress
It was cold. The winter solstice was perhaps not the best time to be wandering around stone cathedrals forty miles out of town and a hundred years out of use, but it was the only place Asra could convince Muriel to come, and I wasn't going to deprive him of his oldest friend. It was a special day for both of us, after all. I could bear a cold venue for him.
Portia led me by the hands through the halls, checking every so often to make sure my blindfold was securely in place as we followed Nadia to my improvised dressing room. The chill sank into my bones, and I shuddered through the loose fabric of one of Nadia's dressing gowns.
“Only a few more steps, Oholibamah,” Portia said, voice bright and encouraging. I could just picture the freckles on her face, standing out in sharp relief.
I was careful to move my face as little as possible, and resisted the urge to tilt my head as I smiled – Nadia had spent hours on my makeup, and I didn't want to ruin it. “Thanks.”
Portia pulled me to a stop, and I heard Nadia clear her throat.
“Are you ready?” she asked, voice tinged with excitement. If Nadia were a more expressive person, she would be bouncing on her toes.
My smile widened. “I don't know. Am I?”
“Definitely not,” Portia laughed, carefully removing my blindfold.
Nadia took a minute to check my makeup. Her fingers took my chin in one hand and turned my head left and right. She clucked her tongue, satisfied, and turned to an old wooden door. It opened with a screech that set my teeth on edge, and a gust of cold, stale air washed over me. Nadia and Portia walked through the door, and I followed with hesitant steps.
The room was bright, with pre-dawn grey light creeping through the filthy but unbroken windows. A single chair sat in the middle of the empty room, and I gasped when I saw what was on it.
Splayed across the back to the chair and dripping down to the floor was a forest green dress. Tiny white flowers were embroidered across the hem, and a gauzy skirt dripped from an empire waist. Atop the dress was the crowning jewel, a bone white mask with graceful antlers. I covered my mouth with one hand as I stared at it, incredulous and awestruck.
“Nadia,” I finally managed to choke out, stunned. “Where did you get this? It must have cost you a fortune,” I continued with a pang at the thought.
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture before pulling her hand down to brush out the black and gold feathers of her gown. “It is a gift for you,” she said with a soft smile. “You have made Asra so happy, Oholibamah, more than you could possibly know. I want to give you some of that joy back.”
Portia began to dance back and forth on her feet. “Do you like it?”
“It's beautiful.” The words caught in my throat and I cleared it before I continued. “I can't accept this, Nadia. You planned out the whole wedding, I can't take this too.”
“I want to give it to you,” Nadia reassured, pulling a pocket square from somewhere in her gown. She dabbed at my eyes with delicate hands. “Taking it would be the greatest pleasure you could give me at the moment. Besides,” she added with a smile, “you don't have much of a choice, unless you want to be wed in a dressing gown.”
Portia wrapped her arms around my waist, tucking her chin on my shoulder. “This whole wedding is her gift to you. Besides, just imagine how Asra will look when he sees you walking down the aisle in it!”
I snorted. “I could walk out in a paper bag, and Asra would look at me the same way.”
The three of us shared a laugh, leaning into each other like blades of grass blowing in the wind.
“He's head over heels for you, that's for sure.” Portia bustled to the chair and picked up the dress, observing the laces in the back and down the sides. “Let's get you changed!”
Nadia helped me pull he dressing gown over my head, and I handed her the rest of my clothes as I undressed. Portia and Nadia both guided the dress up my curves and started lacing it up together as I stood there.
“Thank you both,” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“It was my pleasure,” Nadia said, giving the laces a tug.
“After all, you only get married once if you do it right!” Portia said. I looked down at her, and she gave me a saucy wink, tying the laces off with a neat flourish. “And, done! You look beautiful, Oholibamah. Oh, the shoes, let me grab them.” She plucks them out from underneath the chair and slips the white stilettos over my feet. It's certainly not the kind of footwear I would choose myself, but today was a special occasion.
There was a knock at the door, and the three of us turned to look at it. Julian poked his head in, doing a double take when he saw me. He flashed me a grin that matched his sister's.
“Ohohoho, look at you, Oholibamah! Stunning, if I may say so.” He swept into the room, bowing down and giving the back of my hand a kiss. “Asra is a very lucky man.”
I blushed. He gave me a wink before turning to Nadia. “Might I steal you? Asra wants you to look over his vows.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Again?” she asked, voice laced with affectionate exasperation.
Julian nodded, grin stretching even wider across his face. “I've never seen him quite so nervous, just between the four of us. Or quite so red. It's terribly funny, I wish you could see it,” he tells me.
“I'm sure it is,” Nadia said dryly. She looked at me, waiting for an answer.
I made shooing motions with my hands. “Go ahead. It's fine. I've monopolized you for long enough, and if what Julian says is true, then Asra needs you more than I do.” I paused for a second. “Hey, that rhymed! I rhymed!” I clapped my hands and laughed, though it sounded a little forced.
“If only it didn't happen once every decade,” Julian lamented, backing towards the door. “You would be much more fun at parties.”
I frowned. “I don't go to parties.”
Julian disappeared out the door, saving himself from coming up with a witty response. Nadia strode out of the room, giving me a smile as she did so. “You look radiant, Oholibamah,” she says. “I'll see you at the altar.”
“Here, you have to see!” Portia pulled out her phone from her pocket and took a picture. “I mean, just look!”
I took the phone from her to examine the picture. Nadia had truly outdone herself. I looked like an ancient goddess, blue eyes peering out of the mask. The white flowers and green leaves Nadia painted on my cheekbones and down my jaw made my bronze skin glow. I handed her phone back to her with a smile.
“Send it to me, please,” I said.
“You got it. I'm leaving now to get changed,” she said, backing up slowly. “The wedding starts in half an hour, okay? You have your phone with you?”
I plucked my phone off the top of the pile of folded clothes on the chair and wiggled it at her.
“Alright. Don't be late. I'd hate to have to send Julian to fetch you.” She disappeared behind the door with a laugh, and it screamed as it shut. It thunked into place with the finality of a coffin lid, trapping me in with the frigid air.
I took a breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Idly, my mind wandered, wondering what room this had once been. It was empty now of everything but the chair and my divested clothes. I moved the clothes to the floor and dragged the chair over to the window, fingers idly tracing over Jack and Damien's figures on the phone case. I knew the outlines of my characters by heart, and my fingers had worn smooth trails over their hair and clothes. It occurred to me that after five years I probably needed a new case – hell, I probably needed a new phone at this point – but I loved it too much to consider parting with it. And besides, it was custom-made by a fan – how could I even consider parting with it?
I sat in the chair and stared at the blank screen. What did one even do half an hour before a wedding?
It had really never occurred to either me or Asra to get married before. We known each other for almost a decade, and had been living and loving together in some fashion for at least half that time. I suppose it had just never seemed necessary to either of us. He was my ardent lover and I was his. Nothing would ever change that.
The Groom
Nadia suggested it first. She had a whole speech about tax benefits and the positive aspects we could enjoy by conforming to societal norms, the most compelling of which had been free desserts on anniversaries. Thinking about it now, I think she wanted an excuse to throw a lavish party for us.
Portia and Julian dove in headfirst with the idea after that, insisting that they had always wanted to be in a wedding party. After that, the entire conversation snowballed into a land of hypotheticals that seemed reasonably possible. I played along with the others, only partly serious, and didn't give it a second thought after that.
But when I was getting ready for bed later that night, carefully brushing my hair into braids, Asra brought it up.
“Do you think we should get married?”
I looked over my shoulder. His head rested on the pillow, watching my figure with a soft expression. Faust lay curled up next to him, breathing deeply in her sleep as she digested her dinner. I finished tying off my braids before I responded. “I don't see any reason why we shouldn't, but I suppose I must confess that I also don't see any reason why we should.” I slipped under the sheets and brushed his hair out of his eyes, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “This love is ours. Any vows we make to each other are just as important as a ceremony and a license.”
He hummed in agreement, giving me a kiss in return. “True. But wouldn't it be fun to declare it to the whole world? To have everyone know?”
I shrugged. “It seems a little ostentatious to me.”
Asra laughed, wrapping his arms just above my hips and pulling me close to him. “Oh, Oholibamah.” His face became serious, though no less loving. “Nadia is right you know. The benefits of marriage outweigh whatever potential downsides there might be. Tax relief. Free desserts. Me gaining the ability to firmly say, 'That's my wife' before punching someone.”
I laughed at that.
“And besides, what downsides could there be? You know Nadia will want to plan the whole thing. We won't have to lift a finger, and it can be a small ceremony.”
I nodded in agreement, head coming to rest on his shoulder. “If you want to, I won't stand in your way.”
His fingers crept beneath my chin to tilt my head up. “This is a joint decision, Oholibamah. We are a team. I'm not going through with this idea if you're not totally on board.”
I smiled up at him. “It would be a joy to marry you, Asra.”
He laughed, and I felt it reverberate in his chest. “And you didn't even give me time to properly ask.”
The Bride
The day was dawning, sunlight watery where it poked through dark clouds. Water drizzled down the windows, and I wondered if that counted as rain. My mother always told me that it was good luck if it rained on your wedding day. She had all sorts of wedding sayings, my mother. I rested one hand on the glass as they came back to me.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I had a new costume and an old phone case, but nothing blue or borrowed. Unless you counted my mother's eyes, which were both blue and, by all accounts, borrowed. Could genes be considered borrowed?
Married in black, you'll wish yourself back. No black to be seen. I think this one referred to being married after a funeral, though, and less with the actual color. I wished I could ask her.
My father was a much simpler man, with a heavy accent. “Oholi, listen to me,” he would say in a serious tone. I would stand in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes as he spoke. “You marry a good man, you hear? You marry a man who make you happy for all your time. He do not need to be rich, or born good, or strong. Those things, they do not matter. But if he make you happy? That, that matter. Anything else can be fixed, but an unhappy marriage will disappear like water under the sun.
“A wedding, it is a union of souls, Oholibamah,” he continued, not breaking eye contact. “And so is a marriage. Remember that, when you choose a soul.”
My eyes started to burn as I looked through the dirty window. What would they say to me, if they were here? Would they approve of what I had done with myself? Would they approve of the soul I had chosen?
I wished it didn't matter to me. I wished desperately that I could just forget and be happy, that not every first would be heavily tinged with regret and nostalgia and sadness, and the knowledge that I knew would be lost since they could not be here to tell it to me. But useless wishes were time spent in vain, and there was nothing for me to do but straighten my shoulders and face my future hand in hand with my demons.
And after today, I would never have to face anything alone again. The thought was enough to bring a small smile to my face.
I turned from the window, scrolling through emails from fans to distract myself. The fans were the best part of being an author. The knowledge that people loved my characters and my stories as much as I loved them. I spent the rest of the time I had to kill reading and replying to emails before tucking my phone into the corset of the dress.
I stood and smoothed my hands down my skirt, making sure that it wasn't wrinkled. My finger snagged about mid-though, and upon further investigation, I made the discovery that the dress had deep pockets. My phone quickly made its way to its new home, and I was glowing with pleasure at my discovery. Of course Nadia had included pockets in my dress.
With a deep breath, I opened the door and made my way to the narthex.
The Family
The narthex was colder than the rest of the cathedral, if that were possible. I shivered in my gown, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. It was a struggle to keep my teeth from chattering as I readjusted my mask for what felt like the thirtieth time. Soft music played from a speaker somewhere inside the church proper, gentle strains of a violin. My ears tuned into the faint melody, but as much as I tried, I couldn't calm myself. The church, the dress, the makeup, it was all too much. I backed up to the double doors and leaned against them as I breathed.
I never thought I would get married. I stopped dreaming of a traditional white wedding so long ago. No had ever asked me out in high school, and after college had come and gone without a single date, I assumed it just wasn't in the cards for me and moved on.
I wasn't going to lie to myself and say I had never given much thought to having a lover. I was a writer, and writers in particular were a certain kind of sap. At least, I was. But I shrugged that desire off, pouring myself into my work and setting about to make a name and a life for myself. And for a while, it had even been enough.
Then Asra came along, blowing into my life on a gypsy wind, and everything changed. He stopped in front of my picnic blanket in the park, and pulled my gaze from my screen with a clearing of his throat and flashed a smile brighter than a sixty-watt bulb right at me. When he pulled a queen of hearts from behind my ear, asking if it was my card, I had laughed in surprise. After that, the real world suddenly held as much promise for me as the ones in my pages. I woke up every morning wondering whether I was going to see him and his snake again, where he was going to be next, and when he would return. After a while, I just gave him the key to my house, inviting him to drop by whenever. He took me up on my offer, and he just never left.
My editor wasn't altogether pleased with the stem in the tide of pages he received, but my agent was ecstatic for me. Gerald had been so concerned that I was going to turn into a recluse with fifty cats. He was so distressed that I didn't even have the heart to tell him I was allergic to cats. When he heard there was going to be a wedding, he nearly fell out of his chair in excitement, insisting I send pictures and take a month off work.
And now, here I was, ready to walk down the aisle to the man that had enraptured me, heart and soul. It was far from a traditional wedding, but it was a wedding nonetheless. I was ready to walk down the aisle. I was. But it killed me to know that I would be doing it alone.
Ever since I was little, I dreamed of my father giving me away, of my mother crying in a front row pew. Those dreams died along with my parents. Weddings are a union of souls, like my father told me so long ago, but more than that, they are a union of families as well. Asra had cobbled together his own little family: Muriel, Nadia, Julian, Portia, they were all his. But I brought no one with me. I was alone, like a leaf on the breeze, with no direction to go but down. I didn't even invite anyone to the wedding. I was an island unto myself.
The backs of my eyes were burning as I struggled to stay calm. Ruining Nadia's makeup was the last thing I wanted to do. Yet despite my best efforts, my eyes were tear-bright as the doors to the nave opened and Julian's head poked through. Even past the mask of raven feathers covering his face, I could see his curiosity turn into open-mouthed shock.
He was by my side in an instant, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a hug. “Oholibamah, what's wrong? What's the matter?”
I pulled back a bit, careful of my dress and mask, and gave a big, ungainly sniff. “It's just me,” I said, voice thick. It was hard to get the words out. My throat felt swollen. "No family. Just me."
To my surprise, he laughed.
“Don't make fun of me,” I pleaded, voice thick and miserable.
“Oholibamah,” Julian said, stifling his laughter, “we're all here for you. We're your family too, not just Asra's. No, don't give me that look, I'm being perfectly serious. Look at it this way: Pasha's your sister, Muriel's the creepy uncle who lives in the woods, I'm your dad-” I snorted at that, and his smile grew. “Okay, maybe not your dad.”
“What does that make Nadia?” I sniffed again, wincing at the gentle headache that was forming.
Julian paused for a moment. “God, I suppose.”
We looked at each other for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable giggles. A voice from inside the church made us fall silent.
“Ilya, what's the matter? Is Oholibamah fine?” It was Asra.
He poked his head out the door. “Oh, calm down. I'm not eloping with your bride. One more minute.” Julian turned back to me again, his face serious. “I know what it's like to lose a loved one,” he said gently. “I see it all the time, actually. That's the sort of pain that never goes away. It's always going to be there. The only thing we can do is keep our chin up, and let your brother walk you down the aisle instead.” He clicked his heels together and gave me a half bow, offering his arm.
I snorted again. “You're more like the weird uncle.”
He frowned. “I thought Muriel was the uncle.”
“Muriel's the uncle on your dad's side,” I explained, taking his arm. “You're the mom's brother. Same chaotic energy, but on opposite sides of the spectrum.”
Julian gave me an affectionate smile. “Do you have some kind of chaos theory?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I just have a gift. Is my makeup ruined?”
He inspected my face before shaking his head. “Your eyes are a little red, but everything else is still beautiful.”
“Thank you, Julian. For everything."
He smiled at me again. “You're more than welcome.”
Together, we opened the doors to the church and walked toward the altar.
The Vows
I don't remember most of the walk past the few pews still left and up to the altar. It was hard enough to take in the opulent displays of flowers positioned all around the cathedral, but seeing Asra made my chest go tight. It was all I could do not to catch my breath.
Portia's red cat mask and Nadia's resplendent eagle outfit, even Muriel, looking out of place with a frown, t-shirt, and jeans – everything was pale in comparison to Asra. His white hair had been slicked back to make room for a gold fox mask with long tassels brushing his cheeks. Flimsy lilac fabric floated down his arms, held in place by white gloves that caressed his forearms. The same sheer purple fabric stretched tightly across his chest. Gold accents dripped off his shoulders and down his ribs. The magenta sash wrapped around his waist held his odd, sleeveless overcoat in place, and a white skirt dripped to the floor.
It was his expression that made me falter in my steps. Beneath the mask, his violet eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open slightly as he took me in. It settled into a smile that was so full of love, my heart nearly broke under the weight of it. I managed to smile in return, hoping I didn't look as dumbstruck as I felt, and Julian let my hand go. I took Asra's white-gloved hand in mine and stepped up onto the altar.
Julian didn't move from where we had stopped. “You better not break my niece's heart,” he warned. His face was serious, but his eyes were full of mirth.
Asra blanched. “Your what?”
I put my free hand over my mouth to contain my giggling. “Never mind, Asra. It's an inside joke.”
Julian moved to his spot behind Muriel, his tall frame nearly disappearing behind the giant.
Asra took both my hands before looking to Nadia. She smiled and cleared her throat.
“Dearly beloved,” she said, voice clear and ringing through the church like a choir of bells. “We are gathered here today in joyous celebration of the union of Oholibamah and Asra. Should any object to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
I glanced over Asra's shoulder to Muriel with a touch of dread in my stomach. He made it very clear what he thought about my relationship with Asra, and if anyone were going to raise an objection, it would be him. He met my gaze with a soft frown but said nothing, and I swallowed my sigh of relief.
Nadia waved her hand. “Asra, you may recite your vows.”
Asra took a deep breath and let his shoulders drop before looking into my eyes. “I love you, Oholibamah. I'm not a poet, and I'm not a writer. I don't have the same magic with words that you do. But sometimes, words can't really do things justice. You told me that, you know, a long time ago. I laughed at the thought. I didn't believe you. But I realized when writing these vows to you, for you, that you were right. Nothing I could say would do this feeling I have whenever I see you, whenever I hear you, feel you, touch you, taste you – nothing could do that justice.” I blinked, pushing back several tears, and he smiled at me again.
“I love you, Oholibamah. Three small words don't do it justice, but I do. I love you more than anything in this universe, and the next, if there is one after that. I will love you until the day that the last star stops shining in the sky, and I will love you after that. I give myself to you, body, mind, heart, and soul. I promise to cherish you, to treasure you, to love you, no matter what. I will stand by your side until I have no legs to stand on, and I will whisper words of love until I have no voice with which to speak. I will be your strength when you have none, and I will believe in you when you cannot believe in yourself.” He threaded his fingers through mine, and I saw for the first time that behind his mask, his eyes were bright with tears. “I will love you all the days of your life, and if there is a life after this one, I will love you there too. I am yours, from now until forever.”
I don't cry often, but Asra's vows moved me just past the threshold I had managed to stay behind. Tears dripped down my cheeks under the mask, and I sniffed again. “Wow,” I said, nose congested. “Um... wow. Okay, I think I need a moment to edit my vows.” Everyone laughed, and I didn't tell them that I was serious. Asra and I knew we loved each other. It was a given for us, a constant as reliable as gravity. But these vows were supposed to be something special and sacred between the two of us, and I wanted them to be perfect.
“Oholibamah?” Nadia prodded after a few seconds of silence. “You may recite your vows now.”
I nodded, releasing a slow breath as I looked into Asra's eyes. They twinkled behind the mask, and he squeezed my hands again, a soft smile on his lips. I took a deep breath. “I never thought I was going to get married.” Raised eyebrows came from everyone except Muriel. “It's true. I never thought I needed anyone other than myself. Nobody I met was going to give me something that I couldn't already provide for myself. But sometimes the heart doesn't know what it wants until it finds what it's looking for. And that was you, Asra.
“Pablo Neruda is a famous poet,” I continued. “He is, perhaps, most famous for his love poems. My favorite is 'Sonnet XVII (I do not love you),' which reads: 'I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: Where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.'” I fixed Asra with my most serious gaze. “You said that I told you that sometimes words cannot do things justice. I will tell you one more thing right now. Where words fail, poetry succeeds. I am not a poet, however, so I will most likely fall short as well. But these things I can promise you.
“I promise to love you with all I have, without condition. I promise to honor and cherish you each and every day. I promise that your joy shall be my joy, that your sadness will be my sadness, that your triumph will be my triumph, that your failure will be my failure. I will love you when you think you least deserve it, and I will love you the same when you think you most deserve it. When you fall short, I will be there to pick you up. When you are brought low, I will be there to lift you high. When you find that you cannot walk, I shall pick you up and carry you. Our minds, like our bodies, heart and soul, shall become one. I promise to always strive to be worthy of your love, and to give the best of myself to you. I promise to give you my time, and to bring with me my strengths and my joys. I promise to keep all I have promised in sickness and in health, for worse or for better, for richer or for poorer. All this I promise you, and I seal it with my love, to you.”
Asra was crying now, one gloved hand over his mouth. His head was turned to the side, no longer looking directly at me, but out of the corner of his eyes like I was the sun on a cloudless day. And he wasn't the only one. In addition to Asra and I, Julian was also a sobbing mess, holding on to his sister, who wore a massive grin that was threatening to split her face in half as she tried to prevent her basket of flower petals from spilling. Nadia was wiping her cheeks. Even Muriel looked a little less stoic, watching Asra and me with a passive expression that could almost be termed endearing.
Nadia cleared her throat and glanced over to Julian. “If you would bring the rings forward.”
Julian let go of his sister and wiped his face, stepping up and pulling the rings from his pocket. I plucked Asra's ring from Julian's open palm, taking Asra's left hand in my right and sliding the slim, unadorned silver band over his ring finger.
“With this ring,” I said, voice ringing loud and clear throughout the cathedral, “I thee wed.”
Asra took my ring from Julian's hand. He took my left hand with care and held it between his hands for a few beats as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He gently slid my matching band over my ring finger. “With this ring,” he said, voice soft, “I thee wed.”
“By the power granted to me by the State,” Nadia proclaimed, “I pronounce you husband and wife.”
Asra didn't wait for Nadia's direction. His arms slipped around my waist, pulling me in close and kissing me, careful not to dislodge our masks. Flower petals fell around us, brushing my skin and settling in my hair. His lips were soft and eager, smiling against my mouth. They tasted a little salty, and I kissed him back as hard as I could.
I opened my eyes as he pulled away, a little disappointed that it was over so soon, and let out a shriek of surprise as my feet left the ground. Asra smiled at me again, giving me another kiss as he carried me down the aisle. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we burst out of the church and into the pouring rain. My smile was wide enough to make my cheeks hurt.
Rain on your wedding day was good luck.