Normal
June 3, 2006
Isaac adjusts his tie for what might be the three hundredth time.
“Are you ready for this? Are you sure about it?”
“Yes,” I reply to every question. At some point I don’t even bother listening to all his questions anymore. My voice does this annoying little tremble every time I repeat that one word – yes.
I think the only person who hears that little catch in my voice or sees the way I’m shivering even though it isn’t cold is Taylor. I’m stubbornly refusing to look at him and I can tell that Taylor is trying everything he can to distract himself from looking at me, too. He fiddles with his own suit, adjusts the ring on the pillow Ezra will waddle down the aisle with – anything to keep from looking in my face.
I remember how it felt, just three years ago, at Taylor’s wedding. I was just a bystander then, the awkward teenager in the background, getting in everyone’s way. That day was not about me like this one is. That day was the ending of just as many things as it was a beginning.
If there are any doors left to close, I’m slamming them shut. I wish it didn’t have to be that way.
“Do you need a glass of water or something? You look like you’re gonna pass out. I think Ash has a flask somewhere that he was gonna…” Isaac trails off and wanders away before I can answer.
He is gone out the door in seconds, leaving me alone with Taylor who still staunchly refuses to make eye contact. The rest of the groomsmen are either running late or off on some errand Isaac has assigned to them. I’m glad to have Isaac taking care of all the details that I don’t want to fool with. Choosing him as best man instead of Taylor took most of our friends and family by surprise, but it had to be that way. It just had to. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
But I’m pretty sure that isn’t why Taylor is so quiet and upset. At least, it isn’t the entire reason.
“Taylor.”
He doesn’t turn around, just continues to pick at some invisible flaw in Mac’s tuxedo shirt.
“Taylor.”
A tiny, almost imperceptible flinch, then nothing. He turns from the tux and sorts their boutonnieres again. He’s stacked and restacked them at least ten times. I counted. I can’t help but watch everything Taylor does. It’s a bad habit that I’ve had for as long as I can remember and Taylor knows it, too. Usually he’d turn and smirk because he’s caught me at it, but not today.
I just can’t wait any longer. I step toward Taylor, my sock covered feet quiet against the carpet. I’m standing only inches behind Taylor. I slip my arms around his waist and leans against him. It’s a comfortable position and one we’ve been in many times before, but today it feels stiff and unnatural. I can sense how Taylor wants to pull away but I know he won’t.
“Please say something to me.”
“What am I supposed to say? What’s left to be said at this point, Zac?”
His voice is hard and cold and I want to back away from him but I don’t. I stand my ground.
“Just speak to me, please. Don’t give me this silent treatment crap.”
Taylor wiggles his way out of my grip just enough to turn and face me. “Like you did on my wedding day?”
“That was different.”
“I guess it was.”
I frown. “You know it was. I was a damn teenager then. Excuse me for not enjoying my brother’s shotgun wedding.”
“I was a damn teenager too!” Taylor hisses. “Like you’re so much older and wiser anyway. You’re twenty, Zac. Twenty fucking years old. But please tell me how much smarter you are than I was.”
“Forget it,” I whisper and loosen my grip on Taylor’s waist. I back away with my eyes to the floor, not wanting to see the fire and ice in Taylor’s. I know he’s right, but I don’t want to admit it.
“Just don’t tell me that you’re so much smarter than me, okay? We’ve both made a stupid decision, only you haven’t realized yours yet. But you will.”
Taylor’s voice is barely above a whisper and I’m not even sure I’ve heard him right. I want to ask what that’s supposed to mean but before I can, the door flies open and in walks Isaac with two bottles of water in one hand and two beers in the other.
“You still holding yourself together?” he asks, then holds his hands out in front of me. “Your choice.”
I wrap my hand around a beer and yank it out of Ike’s hand. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Taylor rushes over and grabs the other beer. The tension between us is so obvious and palpable that even Isaac takes a step back. He looks down at his empty hand, then at the one clutching the water bottles, and frowns. He turns on his heel and hurries back out of the room, cursing under his breath. It’s the first time he’s broken character all day after playing the role of best man so perfectly.
Does he know? I’ve asked myself that question a million times. He’s played innocent for so long that I started to believe it wasn’t an act. Maybe Isaac does know and he’s just pushed it deep down inside, like I’ve had to do.
I’m so goddamn tired of hiding, but after today, it’s all I’m going to do. All I can do. I’m not sure what I even mean to accomplish by talking to Taylor about it now. We’re too far gone to fix any of it and I knows that. I’ve hidden my feelings and lived a lie for the past three years and now I’ve got to make that lie my life. It’s the only path to something remotely normal that I can find.
It’s not like Taylor wanted the life we had anyway. That’s how I rationalize it all to myself and it’s worked until now, until I had to stand here and watch Taylor pout and grumble about everything. I don’t think I can call Taylor my friend now and I don’t understand how it all could have gone so wrong when I was trying to make it right.
I open my mouth to speak to Taylor again, but no words come out. It’s just as well, because Taylor’s turned his back again, and I know he wouldn’t answer. The only sound in the room is the popping of the caps on our beers, followed by the near silence as we drink to avoid speaking.
I briefly wonder how much persuasion it would take for Isaac to give me another beer. Maybe I could figure out exactly where he’s stashed them away and just steal one. Then I imagine the look on Kate’s face if I were to wobble and sway drunkenly on the altar and slur the words to our marriage vows. It’s enough to make me giggle, and I’m so tempted to do it, but I know I would never live that down. The marriage would be over before it began. I stuff the quickly emptied beer bottle into a garbage can and decide I better finish getting ready while I still have time.
The awkward silence is soon broken when the rest of my groomsmen descend on the room in a flurry. Mac comes in first, flinging the door wide open and singing some punk song I can’t quite place at the top of his lungs. He’s followed by our dad, already wearing his suit; I’m pretty sure he’s recycled the same one he wore for Taylor’s wedding. Dad always has been a cheapskate, and that didn’t change when we started making the money for him.
I feel like I might as well be a mannequin in a shop window as they all surround me and tug and pull on my sleeves and cufflinks and all the other trappings of this itchy costume I’ve been forced to wear. I know it’s funny to think of myself as being forced; I made this decision myself, but it doesn’t really feel like it. I look over at Taylor, leaning against a wall and staring at his shoes, and can only imagine how forced he must have felt when it was his turn to do what I’m doing mostly willingly.
It all goes by too quickly and before I know it, Isaac and Dad are shoving me out of the door of the room we’ve been holed away in. I can walk on my own just fine, but I know that if given the choice, my feet would carry me far away from the altar where I’m supposed to stand. So I let myself be guided, pushed and prodded across the building until we reach our destination. The room where everything is going to change.
But that’s not quite right. It already changed. Three years ago it changed and it can never be the same again. So this is fine. This is what has to happen and it isn’t that big of a change, really.
I keep telling myself that, but it does little to calm my nerves.
The room is covered in pale blue flowers and ribbons – my favorite color but not my favorite shade. It was the one thing I felt I got any say in once all the planning got under way. The one thing Kate and I could agree on. The color blue. It wasn’t like everything else was an argument, but I knew it was about her, not me. And that was fine. If I could blend far enough into the background that everyone forgot I was even there, I’d be just fine with that.
I’ve drifted away completely in my mind by the time Kate finally makes her way down the aisle. If anyone asks later, I’m certain I won’t be able to describe her gown at all. It’s white and shimmery and she looks just as beautiful as she ever has. I can’t seem to muster up any stronger emotions than that and the guilt at that realization overtakes any happiness I might have felt.
Kate smiles at me as we recite our vows but I can see the worry in her eyes. The nervousness written across her face isn’t because she’s afraid of forgetting the vows or dropping my ring or tripping on the hem of her gown. It’s because she’s afraid I’m going to run. I’ve considered it. I’ve certainly had my chances to do it but I know that standing my ground and going through with this is the right thing to do.
I have to make things right, have to make things normal.
That’s my mantra for the day and it replays through my mind all through the ceremony. It keeps me going, keeps me standing upright and trying my best to smile and look like I lover her. It’s not that I don’t love her, it’s just that that love has never really moved me. Loving her is a choice. If I wanted to stop, I think I probably could, unlike…
Taylor slips out of the lobby as soon as the ceremony is over and I knows he’s gone outside to sulk and probably smoke half a pack of cigarettes. There’s no point trying to track him down because that would cause even more of a scene. So I’ll just let him go and maybe he’ll burn off enough steam to stop causing scenes. Someone is bound to notice, eventually. Isaac already has. It’s only a matter of time before someone else, god forbid it be Kate, catches on to the tension between the two of us, the two who are supposed to be best friends.
Supposed to be.
It never quite works out like it’s supposed to, though. That’s something we two know all to well.
The reception isn’t awkward like Taylor’s. I wish he could stop comparing the two weddings but it’s the only frame of reference I’ve got for this sort of event. It’s still awkward, though, but in a different way. Isaac gives a long rambling speech and so does our dad. Taylor keeps shrugging it off when people turn to him but finally he stands and looks out awkwardly out the crowd.
At first, I’m pretty sure he’s going to run. I cross my fingers under the table and pray that Taylor stays in place. He clears his throat three times, then take a long swig of his champagne before he finally begins.
“I guess in some ways we always thought Zac would be the first of us to get married. It didn’t quite work out that way, but that’s alright. Things work out the way they are meant to, I suppose. Zac has always been mature for his age. It’s sometimes hard for me to remember that I’m his older brother and not the other way around. Maybe that’s just because I’m a dumb blonde. But I think it’s because of how mature he is. When he makes his mind up to do something, you know it isn’t a rash decision. You know he’s thought it through and made the… best choice he can. I think we can all agree he’s done that today. Kate and Zac are going to have a great life together. They’re both lucky to have each other, and they don’t need me or anyone else to tell them that. I don’t really know how else to describe it. So I’m gonna stop before I start rambling, and I think you’ll all thank me for that.”
I can’t even count how many lies he managed to cram into that speech. I could hear all the catches and hitches in his voice as he struggled to force out words he didn’t really believe. I hope no one else in the room notices all of that but there’s not much chance that it slipped by everyone. Surely someone is wondering why Taylor would give such a weird speech, and maybe beginning to put the pieces together. Everyone seems to see how on edge we are, even though they couldn’t possibly know why.
Kate barely talks to me during the reception and I’m really sort of okay with that. There are too many friends and family members coming over and wishing us well that there just isn’t time for the two of us to have much of a conversation. I wouldn’t really know what to say to her anyway so it’s just easier that I don’t have to speak much.
The reception flies by and soon I find himself back at our hotel. We’ve rented the honeymoon suite in what is probably the fanciest hotel in all of Atlanta, because, why not? I never feels like my words or actions are enough, but if I can throw some money around to prove my feelings, I feel like I’ve done something right. That’s what the entire day has been about, I guess.
I carry Kate over the threshold of the room because that’s what I’m supposed to do. She furrows her brow and frets that I’m going to drop her. I know I won’t, and I don’t.
“We’re married,” Kate says like it’s some big revelation, some miracle we’ve worked so hard to accomplish together. Maybe it is.
I follow her to the bed and we fall into it wordlessly. Kate wiggles out of her dress and leaves it laying in a pile on the floor, discarded, a shimmering white puddle. She curls up against my side and I press my lips to her neck gently. My hands explore parts of her body that I’ve only barely seen before. For all the things I’ve done with Taylor, I’ve barely let myself get close to Kate like that. It’s something we sort of unconsciously decided together, although I know her reasons were different than mine.
Our bodies connect under the sheets and my mind is everywhere but on the task at hand. All I can think about is how these are probably the most expensive sheets I’ve ever touched. I almost laugh out loud when I wonder if the hotel will have to throw the sheets out when we’re done. I try to focus on her, I really do. But my mind still wanders. It isn’t the great change I was hoping for, but how could it be? I’ve wished for this night to change everything, fix everything, but it hasn’t.
Afterward, I lay on my back and listen as Kate’s breathing slows down. Maybe things will still be okay. Gradually, over time, I’ll come to see that I’ve made the right choice. I’m certain I will. In the morning, things will look better.
In the morning, I will wake up a married man for the first time. In the morning, everything will be okay.