Chapter 90
“Like us,” Bethany said, pleased. “I want to wear it now and show it off.”
But Dana pocketed the bands. “Not until Tuesday. You’re the one who wanted to make it legal, remember.”
“You’re the one who won’t let me forget,” Bethany shot back with a grin.
As the weekend went on, Dana would’ve sworn time stood still, each passing minute trickling pass with infinite slowness as the clock counted down to her chance to walk down the aisle and say, “I do.” But before she knew it, the alarm blared on Tuesday morning and they were rolling out of bed, bleary-eyed from staying up too late the night before. Suddenly the day they’d been waiting for was here, and there was a mad rush to get ready, the two of them elbowing each other aside for a spot in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to get their hair and makeup and clothes perfect for the big day.
Now Dana worried about being late, or missing their scheduled ceremony altogether. She rushed Bethany out of the hotel before her lover’s thick curls were even completely dry and it was back to City Hall, where the lines were just as long as they had been on Friday. But this time Dana and Bethany were in a different queue, and theirs moved quickly.
Wedding ceremonies at the Justice of the Peace took about fifteen minutes. They were brief affairs, unencumbered by a large number of attendants, though some of the couples in line ahead of Dana had entourages that made her worry. Turning to Bethany, she said, “God, we don’t have witnesses.”
Bethany frowned. “Do we need more than this? I mean, look around. This place is packed.”
“I’m talking about a maid of honor,” Dana explained. Her nerves were riding high again; she could hear her anxiety threatening to run away with her reason in her voice. “A best man, that sort of thing. What if—”
“Honey, calm down.” Bethany took both of Dana’s hands in hers and breathed in deep, which made Dana do the same. “Relax. It’ll be okay. Je t’aime, remember what that means?”
Dana smiled wanly. “I love you.”
With a laugh, Bethany said, “And I love you. And we’re getting married, so keep it together until he pronounces us woman and wife—or wife and wife, or woman and woman, whatever he’s going to say—”
“Woman and woman?” Dana asked, skeptic. “We’re already that. Why would he—?”
“I don’t know, I’m just saying!” Bethany laughed again, giddy with the moment and their impending marriage. “Wife and wife then. So why do they say man and wife? Maybe guys aren’t men until they get married, is that it?”
Dana giggled and pulled Bethany close to claim a kiss. “How do you say I love youagain in French?” she asked softly.
“Je t’aime, mon amour.” Bethany grinned. “That means, I love you, my love.”
“Mon, isn’t that masculine?” Dana asked, frowning.
“The word amour is,” Bethany explained. “It doesn’t mean I’m talking to a guy. It can refer to a woman or a man. In French—”
“Excusez-moi,” someone behind them interrupted.
They turned to find a young man in his twenties wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts with a tuxedo-print pattern on them, black Doc Martens boots, and a pink feather boa around his neck. Across his chest was a pink sash, the kind worn by beauty queens in pageants, that read, BRIDESMAN. In one hand he held a large, plastic, gaudy scepter. On his head was an equally gaudy crown.
Dana pressed her lips together hard not to laugh. Bethany didn’t even bother; she sputtered and turned away, one hand rising to cover her mouth as giggles escaped. The man drew himself up to his full height, which puffed out his thin, bare chest and made him look even more ridiculous than he had already, if that were possible. “If I may introduce myself,” he intoned. “I am Jeremy, Professional Bridesman. If you have need of my services, I am available during the length of your upcoming wedding ceremony for the discounted rate of a mere five dollars.”
Now Dana laughed, too. “Five…” She was tempted to give it to him for the outfit alone.
Bethany had regained her composure, though, and asked, “But what do you do.”
Jeremy pointed at his sash. “I’m a bridesman. You know, like a bridesmaid, only I’m a guy. Hence, man instead of maid.”
“So you just stand there.” Bethany took Dana’s arm and shook her head. “Thanks, but—”
“We doneed a witness,” Dana said.
“Aha!” Jeremy pounced. “Part of my services includes signing the marriage license, if you wish. I also take photos at no additional charge.”
He pulled a slim digital camera from somewhere—Dana didn’t see where, and didn’t really want to know—and brandished it like a prize won from a box of Crackerjacks.
“Just give me your e-mail address,” he said, “and I’ll send you the pictures. Come on, what do you say? That’s a lot for what you’re paying. You’re really getting a steal.”
Dana looked at Bethany, who shook her head slightly. But there was something dorky and endearing about the guy, and they wouldwant a photo to commemorate the day later. “Come on, we can spare five bucks,” Dana murmured under her breath.
Bethany rolled her eyes as the line shuffled forward. They were next. “Fine.”
Moving up with them, Jeremy said, “For ten dollars, I can—”
“No, we’re good, thanks.” Bethany shot him a silencing look.
With a giggle, Dana pulled Bethany to her. “I love you,” she sighed, kissing Bethany’s cheek. “Always have, always will.”
“I only wish I’d realized I loved you sooner.” Bethany turned, catching Dana’s next kiss on her lips.
Behind them, a camera flashed as Jeremy cried, “Say cheese!”