Page 96 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

“You gamble now?”

“Deacon doesn’t like it but… I’ve hustled a few of his friends.”

“You’re crazy.”

“A little,” Keyshawn admits. “Ready to get married, cousin?”

“Yes. Have our family members arrived yet?”

I sent out invitations, but I haven’t been taking calls or questions from our unhinged family about my future spouse. I know everyone would give me shit for marrying a white guy – mostly because they never saw it coming and a few of them hold onto this idea that I can manifest a perfect black love out of thin air. I just want to get married in peace.

Either sing along and clap at the ceremony or… don’t come.

But I want them to come. I’ve had a tense relationship with everyone since I chose to become a therapist, since I chose not to solve all my family’s problems and since… I put that distance there myself to find peace. It would be good if this wedding could heal us.

“Not yet,” Keyshawn says. “But they’ll be here. Congratulations, by the way… I didn’t thinkanybodycould get me to confess I married a white boy.”

“It’s a joint confession. That should make it easier.”

“Come on,” Keyshawn says, reaching for my hand. “Let’s get you dressed up for your sexy beast. I need time to cornrow the front of your hair.”

Getting ready for the wedding ceremony takes over two hours and it’s hard to sit still or stay patient – especially since Keyshawn won’t let me see my hair and makeup until it’s done.

“Trust me, it’s a masterpiece.”

“I’d better not look like boo boo the fool…”

When she reveals her final look, I don’t recognize myself. Should I be doing this natural, clean makeup every day? Where did she find a foundation that matches my skin tone? Also, I ammeantfor these long lashes. Anna and Vickie help get me into the dress, which squeezes my boobs together so tightly that all the mid-thirties sagging disappears. I look… like a bride.

Once I’m ready, Keyshawn whisks me off to greet our family members who all descended on Boston ready to share their opinions and snap photos with the flash turned on unnecessarily. It’s pure chaos, but they somehow all made it to the ceremony and theyallcompliment my appearance, with only my aunt making a comment about the “white boy” I’m marrying.

Ma’am. Ethan is a whole ass man. He’s not just a “white boy”.

My father doesn’t make a big deal out of the whole situation – I’ve seen him more animated about football games – but he doesinsiston walking me down the aisle. That’s the one part of this whole chaotic mess he cares about and who the hell am I to deny the man his role in the situation? It’s all he asked for and… they brought a gift.

Quietly, without judgment or interference, my father links arms with me and walks me down the short aisle of our venue – a rented mansion on the outskirts of Boston – to face… Ethan. My future husband.

“That’s a big man,” my father says. And that’s all he has to say about Ethan.

* * *

Thirty-Seven

Ethan

Amanda walks down the aisle with her father dressed in the prettiest white dress I’ve ever seen and trust me, I’ve been to a lot of biker weddings. Her skin tone is a pretty, shiny shade of dark brown and the smile on her face… it’s about to get bigger when she gets my wedding gift but that won’t come until our reception this evening.

Her father seems like a pleasant dude. He pats me on the shoulder as he “gives away” Amanda, and the guy looks like an All-American football fan. The type of guy you could have a beer with.

Once I have Amanda close enough to me that I can smell her perfume, it becomes impossible for me to focus on the words I’m supposed to think and say.

All I care about is getting to “I do”. I say my part too soon, then I have to wait and say it again… I do.

I couldn’t mean it more. I want to be with this woman forever. I hate ceremonies and I hate waiting, but waiting for Amanda will be worth it. I can’t stop staring at her and envisioning our life together. Breakfast. Dinner. Carrying her off to bed. Rubbing her feet on the couch. I want the whole damn thing.

When we get to the part where I’m allowed to kiss Amanda, I don’t hold myself back. I grab her cheeks and kiss her like I mean it. I kiss her like we’re going to be together forever. It takes Owen and Wyatt pulling me away to stop kissing Amanda.

Mom cheers loudly for both of us, and I feel good that I can have her approval for a woman in my life. For once. She and Amanda were close from the start. Maybe mom always knew this is the woman I would end up with.

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