Page 75 of Touched Down

I know this is meant to be a night of fun and celebration, a time to let loose before my wedding, but all I can think about is Leslie. "No. No.” I wave my hand, ushering them along. “I don't want a dance. You can dance for the guys. I'm good," I tell the ladies, but the guys are cheering at the ladies and hollering as the music pounds. I can't deny the energy is infectious, but all I can think about is the woman I'm about to marry, the woman who has captured my heart and soul.

Rich slaps me on the back, grinning widely as he tries to draw me into the heart of the revelry. "Come on, Wayne! This is your bachelor's party! Let's make some memories!"

"No, man. I'm enjoying myself, drinking and watching you all," I say, raising my glass of beer. "Take these beautiful women to your section and have at it."

"Suit yourself," Richard pats me on the back and shakes his head as he walks over to both dancers. One of them is shaking her backside like she’s trying to detach it from her body.

I manage a smile, appreciating his enthusiasm, but the warmth in my chest isn't sparked by the heated exchanges at the party. The memory of Leslie's touch, her presence, and the promise of our future together truly ignites my spirit. That's how I know I have the one for me. I'm out here surrounded by these beautiful women, temptation, and access, and I can't wait to get back to her…to make some memories that will last a lifetime.

Chapter Forty

Leslie

Mr. & Mrs. Richards

I wake at sunrise and run my hand over the empty pillow beside me, instantly missing Wayne. He’s usually beside me in bed, drawing me toward his body heat, but not this morning. It’s our wedding day, so we both slept alone last night.

I gush with excitement, slide out of bed and go to the bathroom to shower. As I pass by the hotel mirror, I notice myself glowing. I’m ready to slide out of my bonnet, yoga pants, and tank top into my dress and walk down the aisle, but that won’t happen until two o’clock.

I glance at the gifts on the dresser, reminding me that my bachelorette party was one for the books. Joi and Carmen—two of my childhood friends—conspired with Jasmine to get more of our childhood friends and a few trusted football wives (Terrica and Caitlyn) on a bus tour to a neighboring city.

I was given gifts and love, and my mother, Wayne’s mother, and godmother drove over to the restaurant and hung out with us. When they left, a male performer crashed the party, serenading me with music and a private dance. He only stayed a few minutes, but it was hard for me to look at him as he gyrated to the beat. Shy, nervous energy pulsed through me until the man completed his song and dance and left the private party room. The rest of the night was filled with bridal games and laughs among old and new friends.

Coming back to the present, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Standing in front of the mirror, steam from the shower creates a hazy backdrop. My heart flutterswith excitement as I recall the memories shared with Wayne, the late-night conversations, the passion, the laughter, and the challenges we've overcome together. Today, those moments culminate in a celebration of our love, our commitment, and our future together.

After a refreshing shower, I wrap myself in a plush robe and move towards the window, drawing back the curtains to let the warm sunlight spill into the room. The soft glow of morning envelops me, and I take a deep breath, savoring the mixture of emotions coursing through me. Anticipation, joy, a touch of nervousness – they all combine to create an electric energy that I can hardly contain.

The hours leading up to the ceremony are a whirlwind of activity and emotions. My bridesmaids—Terrica, Joi, and Carmen—flutter around their dressing room in their dresses, showcasing a harmonious blend of navy blue and beige. Terrica will be escorted by her beau, Terrance King. I asked my classmates Joi and Carmen to join the wedding party so Jeremiah and Dilan would have companions. Jasmine will be escorted by Eddie.

In my dressing room, my lovely and incomparable maid of honor/sister looks gorgeous in her short, navy blue gown. This beautiful creation perfectly captures the elegant yet playful essence of the day. The intricate lace details and delicate beadwork add a touch of sophistication.

As Jasmine helps me with the finishing touches of my look, her eyes twinkle with tears.

“Are you okay?” I touch her shoulder and ask.

She quickly wipes away a tear and flat irons another section of my already bone-straight hair. “I’m fine.”

I’m not buying her answer. “Does my sister have wedding fever?”

She holds the flat iron up with one hand and places the other on her hip. “I’m not ready to tie myself down, so no wedding fever. No,” she fusses. She lowers the flat iron and places it on the table, then reaches out and touches my hand. “It’s just that I’m happy for you. So happy. You look so beautiful, sis.”

My dress is bulky at the bottom, but I extend my arms and do my best to embrace my sister, hair and makeup forgotten. We hug until we are interrupted by Louise entering the room with Marjorie and my mother.

The older women’s presence brings a sense of completeness, as if all the pieces of a puzzle are falling into place and forming a beautiful image. Their support and love wrap around me like a warm embrace.

“Aw, look at our girls,” Louise says, covering her mouth in awe.

"Are you ready?" Mom asks with a sense of joy and overwhelming emotions in her thick tone. All three women wear long, navy gowns with lace and beads of unique designs.

"I'm so ready! Is it time for Dad to walk me down the aisle to see my husband?"

"Almost," Mom says, giving me a warm hug.

"You are so beautiful. Is there anything you need for us to do?" Marjorie asks.

"Just need to get this dress zipped and then for someone to point me in the direction of my husband," I say playfully.

“I’ll get the zipper.” My mother laughs and comes around to zip up my dress. "As for pointing you in your husband’s direction, you will have to wait, young lady.

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