Page 12 of Everything We Thought Was True
“It’s many things. It’s crazy, it’s weird, it’s rushed...” I huffed. “Oh, and to make matters worse, he wants me to help plan it. Do you believe it?”
“I think it’s great. And yes, I believe it. Of course he wants you to be involved.”
“Kevin, my father has no right to get married again.”
He looked at me, surprise registering on his face. “Why?”
“Seriously? It’s not like he was any good at it the first time. He screwed up his marriage to my mom, remember?”
“Lena, hon, come on. There’s no rule that says someone who screwed up their first marriage can’t get married again. If that were the case, there’d be a lot less second marriages.”
He laughed, which rattled me. This wasn’t the time to make jokes.
“My mom didn’t get married again.”
“That was her choice. She had to do what was right for her after what she went through. You made it sound like that was kind of her way of asserting her independence.”
I bit my lip. He was right. My mom had had no interest in being married again, partly because she’d been burned so badly the first time around and partly because it made her feel strong to stand on her own two feet. She’d told her live-in boyfriend, Larry, right at the start that marriage was off-limits.
“It’s hard to explain. You don’t know what it was like. You weren’t there. You didn’t have to live it. You don’t have to live it.”
“Hey, my father-in-law is gay, right? It’s not the same as you, of course.” He paused. “Not that you let me talk about it or anything.”
“It’s not the same. Sorry. You didn’t grow up with it or go through it.”
I wondered how I could explain it to Kevin. The ugliness of the 1970s and ’80s. Bullies who would make fun of a boy for wearing a pink Izod polo shirt to school and call him a faggot. The AIDS crisis and how society had responded with fear and blame of the gay community. The senseless murder of Matthew Shepard. When I rented the movieBoys Don’t Crywhile Kevin was away on business, I’d heaved sobs, unable to move off the couch for a solid half hour after the credits. All those images and experiences were part of my DNA.
Sweat beaded at the back of my neck, and there was that old familiar feeling of mild nausea and tingling in my hands.No, no, no.The beginnings of a panic attack. I went over to the sink and put cold water on the inside of my wrists and back of my neck, trying to ward it off. I took a few deep breaths.
Kevin jumped up and came over to me. He grabbed my hand. “You okay?”
I nodded. I could feel my pulse slowing down. He gave me a moment.
Then he lifted my face to his. “Sweetie, maybe your father never got married again because he never thought he could. And now he can finally marry someone of the same sex and have itrecognized in the entire country. I mean, the timing makes sense with the recent case. Heck, you know that better than anyone.”
I didn’t need to be reminded of the current legal landscape. I knew it by heart. That was my career, not my personal life, but now my two worlds were colliding.
“Maybe I’m being unreasonable, but it doesn’t seem fair that he gets to do this when he screwed up his first marriage big-time.”
I hated admitting this out loud. I felt like I was letting my dad down by even thinking this way. It was an honor that he’d asked me to help plan his big day. I’d committed to it and wouldn’t go back on my word. But I had a feeling the wedding planning was going to give me a lot of gray hairs in the coming months.
“Is he planning on a big celebration?” Kevin asked.
“No, they want something small. Nothing extravagant, only about thirty people.”Thank goodness.“But the next few months will be so busy for me with the case and now the wedding...”
I sounded so whiny. And my jaw hurt. I could feel stress along my jawline where Kevin’s hand was.Probably grinding my teeth in my sleep again.I’ll have to wear my mouth guard. So attractive.
“Okay, so something small, and the wedding isn’t for almost four months? You know him... he’s not picky. You can put this thing together in no time. Lena, he trusts you. You’ll be like the best man.” He gave me an encouraging smile.
The best man. How strange. How many adult women are serving as their father’s best man for his second wedding? Few, I bet.
“I don’t want to be the best man,” I said. “Bad enough I’m planning the shindig.”
“I’ll help you. We’ll make it fun,” Kevin said, squeezing my hand. “Problem solved.”
Problem solved, just like that. Except I didn’t need Kevin to solve my problems. I wanted him to sympathize and tell me I was justified in beingso rattled by this.
No drama, I reminded myself.Too messy.There was so much drama in my parents’ marriage that I always tried to keep it out of mine. For the past eighteen years, I’d tried to keep that pledge as seriously as I treated our wedding vows.
