Nine
“ Fucking hell ,” was my brother’s blistering response when I told him about my plan to marry Nixon, “That’s a bit hasty.”
His reaction wasn’t a surprise. I wasn’t stupid, I knew our decision to get married was fast, but we were in love and not of the puppy variety; the real, deep, all-consuming type. Genuine affection.
Mattie had been sitting in his computer chair playing on his PS4 when I knocked on his door. I now had his full attention which was new, you usually had to have a conversation with the back of his head when he was gaming. Mattie swung his chair around slowly and dropped his controller, an item that would usually need to be surgically removed from his hand.
Those shrewd blue eyes of his were now looking at me as if I had grown two heads. I lifted my feet from the floor and shuffled further back onto his bed, sitting there cross-legged, my hair falling over my shoulders like a golden waterfall.
It was first thing in the morning and the bed had already been made. Mattie wasn’t like most men his age; he didn’t live like a pig. His place was always spotless. He resided in a separate annexe from the main house above one of the garages. It was a small bedsit but perfect for one person. He was the eldest after all and with three sisters, he needed his privacy the most. It was a shame he was so settled, as the bedsit would have been perfect for Nixon and I. I didn’t really relish the thought of moving in with Nixon and his family. Especially his brothers but what could I do?
“Dad will shit a brick,” he unhelpfully pointed out, folding his arms across his chest .
“I don’t care. We love each other Mattie,” I explained, rocking my body on the bed, feeling slightly agitated. I was testing the water by telling Mattie first. He was the most chilled out of all my family members.
Mattie’s eyes continued to roam over my face as if he was looking for something, “When did you become so ballsy and impulsive?”
I dashed a hand down my face, not enjoying the scrutiny, “Being with Nixon has toughened me up. Made me fight for what I want. Plus no one is getting any younger,” I explained with a huff.
“You’re twenty , Jenna, so I don’t think that one applies. How old’s your intended ? He can’t be much older than me,” Mattie ejected hotly with an edge of sarcasm.
“Almost twenty-eight,” I confirmed.
He tilted his head, his frown deepening, “So he’s twenty-eight. What’s the fucking rush. I’m sure everything will continue to work for a few more years. You don’t have to get married , well, at least not yet. It’s too soon.” His words brought about a sense of sadness as not everything in Nixon did work, thinking of his injury.
I didn’t agree with him as I knew how I felt. For me it had always been Nixon, “I get that, but why wait? We both know what we want.” I told him, feeling proud and defiant. I knew it would alter my life forever, but I welcomed that change, needed it. During most of my teenage years, I’d felt like I’d been living in a daydream. One I had now awoken from. Looking back at the girl I had been then was almost like I was looking at a younger niece or something.
My future was Nixon. He was the one I saw when I closed my eyes and the thought of spending the rest of my life with him screamed meant to be .
“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” Mattie suddenly blurted, the look of horror on his face verging on the ridiculous. He dropped his arms and pushed himself forward in his seat. His stare searing .
I rolled my eyes, “I’m not pregnant,” I defended. Although my brother’s suggestion wasn’t that out there. Getting knocked up would certainly have been a reason for someone to marry quickly. That was why my parents had got married so I’d heard. Which was partly the reason I hoped they didn’t kick off. What’s good for the goose and all that? Although of course, I wasn’t pregnant. And never would be.
Thankfully, Mattie believed me, my swift reply changing his expression to one of immense relief. That tough truth that I would never have children swam back to the surface, but I pushed it down. I could live without kids; I couldn’t live without Nixon.
Mattie released an elongated sigh of frustration, but I held up a hand to stop him from speaking, “Please Mattie, I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m almost twenty-one and I know what I want. I’m marrying the man I love. We may only have been together a short while but we’ve known each other our entire lives. Have grown up together really.”
“From a fucking distance. When have any of us ever truly rubbed elbows with the McKenna’s. Well, apart from Amy and her private war with Mason.”
“We’ve known of each other for years then.”
Mattie’s shoulders slumped, which I hoped meant he’d taken on board what I’d said. I must admit, I didn’t think he’d concede so quickly.
My brother's lips twisted thoughtfully and he opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it.
“What?” I prompted; my eyes wide.
“Good luck convincing Mom and Dad. I’ll think I’ll let you unleash your bombshell before I drop mine.”
I wondered what type of bombshell he was referring to; no doubt some dirt Amy had dug up on the McKenna boys during one of her visits .
When we were little, Mattie would send Amy on ‘missions’ to spy on our neighbours. It didn’t matter what he unearthed, there was nothing he could say to put me off my decision.
“Well?”
Folding my arms, I gave him my version of an interrogative look. What he said didn’t shock me as much as it should as I’d had my suspicions but his timing was off. Talk about random. It was like someone had taken the spotlight off me and shone it on my brother. Not a bad thing really.
“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “Whilst we’re sharing…” his voice trailed off.
“Yes?” I prompted all ears.
“I’m gay.” The last part came out like a breath of relief. That wasn’t what I expected him to say.
Pursing my lips, I smiled. I wanted to reassure him that it didn’t make any difference to me.
“OK,” I said. Talk about out of the blue. Did that mean he wasn’t against me marrying Nixon now?
“OK, just OK. You’re not surprised, shocked, disgusted ?”
Pushing off the bed, I stood up and took a step toward him. Mattie stared up at me through a lock of hair which had fallen over his forehead. He suddenly looked like a little boy, which was funny considering he was older than me and well into his twenties.
“That’s fine with me. Come on, stand up. Let’s hug it out,” I suggested with a grin. Mattie returned it and pushed his lanky frame to his feet.
“Am I the only one you’ve told?”
Mattie pulled me in for a bear-like hug, “Yup.”
“Cool,” I said, giving him a squeeze before stepping back, almost seeing him properly for the first time. “It won’t matter you know. Mum and Dad aren’t homophobic or anything. They’ll love you no matter what. Amy will probably take the piss and Chrissy will think it’s cool. She hero worships you anyway.”
I moved back to sit on the edge of his bed and he dropped into his chair, the leather creaking with his weight.
His expression became thoughtful again, “So, I’ll be gay and you’ll be Mrs McKenna. Doesn’t sound that strange really.” My heart jump-started again, returning to its usual rhythm. It was nice to have been able to tell someone and share my news.
“That’s what I thought,” I agreed, pushing a chunk of hair back over my shoulder.
I just hoped that I could convince my parents of that.
*****
“The whole idea is preposterous, Jenna. What on earth are you thinking?” My mother said when I showed her my ring. “I assume you’ve said yes to a very long engagement.”
I was sitting at our kitchen table with both my parents and as expected, my news went down like a lead balloon. I did however have one ace up my sleeve; my parent's hasty wedding. I pointed this out to them.
“That was different. I fell pregnant with Mattie and that’s what you did those days—” she trailed off, suddenly horrified, “Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” Her hands came to her face.
I sat upright and rolled my eyes at my father who appeared to have become mute, “I’m not pregnant, will everyone stop saying that.”
“Well, what do you expect Jenna, you haven’t even known the boy a year. You can’t be surprised that we think it’s too soon,” my father suddenly said, finding his voice .
“We both get that, but it’s what we want and I’m almost twenty-one, not a kid anymore. Plus, we’ve known each other much longer than that. And you got married quickly and are still together,” I pointed out with a flick of my hand.
“Rushing into things never ends well, Jenna.”
My next words rambled along, “I love you both and you’ve always been so protective of me, too much in fact that I’ve felt stifled sometimes. Well, Nixon protects me without stifling me. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been now we’re together. You’ve seen how we are?”
My father ran his hand down his face and looked at my mother.
I decided to power ahead, “We’re getting married, and soon. We love each other. I want to move in with Nixon but his mother is old-fashioned so, we’re getting married first. Like they used to do in the old days. Surely, that makes you feel better?” I informed them.
“Not particularly. I’d rather you lived with him first without rushing ahead,” my mother replied, “And now you want to move out? This is all so sudden, Jenna. You’re not thinking straight,” my mother challenged, her face flushed as she lowered herself to sit beside her husband. A united front.
“At least I’ll only be next door. Close to you both. I’m not moving away. It’s not even as bad as going away to Uni. I’ll still see you every day.”
The conversation with my parents continued to go round and round in circles. I had purposefully suggested to Nixon that I tell them on my own and then he speak to my father. I didn’t want to put them on the spot. And to be honest, it turned out to be for the best.
Eventually, they conceded. They didn’t agree with it but said that I would have their support if that was what I truly wanted. That is all I wanted, their blessing and in a strange sort of way they gave it to me.
My dad did add that if Nixon ever hurt me, he’d kill him. And the way he said those words, I believed him .
Amy was the hardest to convince. She looked through me. It was the first time I had ever felt distant from her and that made me sad. She called my relationship with Nixon ‘temptation on a collision course’ and that we were doomed to fail.
Chrissy was giddy, asking if she could be a bridesmaid and Mattie of course already knew.
When I told Charles, he was so cross he hung up on me.
But all in all, thankfully the news hadn’t fractured every part of my life and everyone in it. I had survived and so had my plans with Nixon.
At the back of my mind, I knew that those who were still opposed to my decision would eventually get used to it and be happy for me.
That’s what I hoped would happen anyway.
*****
The following few weeks went by like a blur. There were so many arrangements to make. Luckily, after the first week, my mother jumped fully on board.
Nixon had spoken to my father man-to-man and there was a healthy level of respect between them now. Amy even agreed to be a bridesmaid, begrudgingly, but better than nothing. Chrissy was, of course, my other bridesmaid.
Nixon had said that he wanted me to have the wedding I had always dreamed of and gave me free rein with the plans. He and my father squabbled a few times about money, Nixon wanting to use his own and my dad adamant that he would pay.
I had decided that I wanted to get married at our house in the back garden with a gazebo in case of rain and that I only wanted a few guests. Mainly my family and Nixon’s and a few school friends. I’d also invited our cousins and my gran. I had invited Charles but he still wasn’t returning any of my calls. This was the only thing leading up to the wedding that wasn’t perfect. Everything else fell into place.
I had chosen my dress, it was stunning . It had a grey satin bodice that was fitted with ribbon straps, leaving my shoulders bare. It was gathered at the waist by a grey sash tied in a bow at the back and that flowed down the back of the dress and rested on the full net skirts which fell to my ankles. It was very bohemian and a mixture of white and grey. I had no veil and would leave my hair loose and my bouquet was a simple collection of gypsophila.
It was to be a March wedding, and so I had a wrap in case it became chilly. We would be married under a floral archway in my garden and the wedding breakfast was being held in a gazebo tent which would be erected and decorated by wedding professionals. My father spared no expense, even though I asked for a small event. He and Nixon had also become so much closer. Seeing them talking together both so tall and strong sent a wave of pleasure through me.
My bridesmaids were also in grey as was Nixon. A striking grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a grey tie. His brothers were dressed in similar suits but their buttonholes were different.
Even leading up to the big day, Nixon and I were inseparable. We rode together, paddled together in the pool, and made out. Everything was perfect. And, batting off the niggling nerves which I put down to bridle jitters, I was determined that it would stay that way.
I was looking forward to becoming, Mr and Mrs McKenna.
We were so in love. What could go wrong?
The Day of the Wedding
Good morning beautiful. How are you this morning? Any last-minute jitters? Nixon’s text was waiting for me when I woke up. The sun was already shining even though it was early. I was so excited. I would become Mrs Jennifer McKenna within a matter of hours.
I thumbed in my reply, None, You?
Fuck no. Just looking forward to our day…
His message trailed off and I pulled the covers off my body as Chrissy banged on my door, “Come on lazy bones, get up. I’m starving and Mum said we can’t eat until you come down.” She huffed. I smiled as I heard her footsteps grow distant. My phone pinged again. And the evening of course. Nixon added a devil emoji.
I can’t wait for you to see my dress. I thumbed in with a smile.
I can’t wait to take it off you later. Nixon replied with a sexual promise.
I hadn’t thought about our wedding night. We had booked a suit at the Dunston Hall Hotel, Spa and Golf Resort and would check in later after the ceremony and wedding breakfast. For dinner that evening, it would be just the two of us. Nixon had arranged a fancy three-course meal to be served in our suite and the following day we would spend together in the spa. Being way too manly for pampering, Nixon had encouraged me to book all the treatments I wanted, stating how I’d find him in the jacuzzi or the swimming pool and nowhere else. I had suggested a facial as a joke but he didn’t seem to find this as funny as I did.
We discussed honeymoon possibilities, but there was just too much work to do on the farm. So later in the year, Nixon and I would go to Paris. I didn’t mind. I was a patient person and could wait for our honeymoon. To be honest, most days felt like a honeymoon anyway.
As I was pushing my arms into my dressing gown, there was knock on the door and Amy came in. She too was wearing her night clothes. We didn’t usually dress for breakfast. A fizz of excitement shot through me as the next thing I would be putting on would be my wedding dress .
Amy plonked herself on my bed and I sat next to her, she obviously had something she needed to get off her chest. She looked sheepish, her hair was messy and she had toothpaste on her cheek. Probably from last night considering we hadn’t had breakfast yet.
“So, I have something to say,” she began in an assertive tone. I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
“Fire away,” I encouraged, bracing myself.
She pursed her lips, looking uncomfortable for a second longer before she let loose.
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Jenna. That Nixon is right for you? Once you say I do, that’s it. Your freedom is fucked. You think we smothered you, but I imagine Nixon will be so much worse.”
I sighed, “It isn’t like that Amy. Yes, he’s a control freak but I happen to like the bossy stuff and it’s not like he tells me what to do all the time. He just likes things a certain way,” I explained.
Amy narrowed her eyes, “I know these boys. I’ve spent most of my life watching them and they can be rough and aggressive. Are you sure you’re happy living with all that testosterone?” My sister said, concern lining her tone. I knew she was only worried about me.
“Amy, please. It’s my wedding day. Try and be happy for me,” I asked. I didn’t want there to be an atmosphere between us.
She took a deep breath, digesting my request before she said, “I will be happy for you and as civil as I can be, but I will never like him Jenna and that goes for the rest of them.”
I took a deep breath, “OK, I can live with that,” I said with an understanding smile.
Amy stood and looked down at me, “And if you sit me anywhere near Mason McKenna, the shit will hit the fan,” she told me with a grin. It was funny as I knew she didn’t dislike him as much as she made out .
“Don’t worry, he isn’t on your table and your back will be facing him.”
“Cool. That suits me fine and saves the day from any unnecessary drama.”
Amy then pushed to her feet and went to leave but she stopped by my bedroom door and ran her hand gently down the skirt section of my wedding dress, “It’s beautiful sis. I hope you have the best wedding day ever. You deserve to be happy.” After shooting me a shy smile, she left the room. I felt relieved that we’d cleared the air.
My phone pinged and I checked it, expecting it to be from Nixon. It wasn’t it was from Charles.
We have been friends for years and you know I love you. I just wanted to apologise for the way I left our last chat. I hope you have a fantastic day.
My heart sank, it would be odd not to have someone I had considered my best friend at my wedding. Why don’t you come and enjoy it with me? I haven’t cancelled your meal.
I held my phone to my chest hopeful, waiting for Charles to reply.
I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry. C x.
What the heck? I was confused. Nixon had said something about Charles having feelings deeper than friendship but Charles had never given me that impression. I placed my phone on the bed, I had other things to think about. I’d leave it and contact him in a few days.
After breakfast, I started to get ready. Both Amy and Chrissy helped with my mother popping in and out and I had hired a beautician and hairstylist. Both my sisters had their hair done first, with half up half down and curled with the straighteners whilst I had my make up done.
My mother looked stunning in a pale pink skirted suit with a matching hat, shoes, and bag.
As I viewed myself in the full-length mirror I really did feel like a princess. I had my hair down and curled without a veil and my bouquet was a bunch of Gypsophila tied with a grey ribbon that matched my dress .
“You look stunning Jenna,” my mother said from behind me, our eyes linked through the reflection of the mirror. She had tears in her eyes and I turned and gave her a huge hug.
“I’m proud of you of who you’re becoming. You know your own mind and what you want. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
I took a step back and grinned up at her, before sweeping a glance around my bedroom. A place I would be leaving shortly. I swallowed the threatening lump down as I glanced over at my sisters.
“Are you ready?” Amy said.
“Absolutely, let’s do this.” After a few finishing touches, we set off down stairs.
As we walked down the sweeping staircase, I could hear the harpist my mother had booked playing from the garden, the sound soothed my nerves. I put the jitters down to the thought of being the centre of attention and not marrying Nixon.
My dad was waiting in the hallway as he would escort me down the aisle.
“You look beautiful sunshine,” Dad said, kissing the top of my head, “Everything is ready, and everyone is here.”
Our back garden had been split in half with chairs on either side. Pretty ones due to the seat covers which were secured by a grey ribbon. I had popped downstairs last night to check out the decorations and my family had really gone to town. The marquee tent where breakfast would be served was set up at the back of our house behind Vicky’s riding paddock and there were flowers everywhere. We had around twenty guests and there were four circular tables set around a small dance floor and then the main table at the top of the tent. The ceiling was silk and there was a large crystal chandelier light hanging from the centre.
“Is Nixon here yet,” I questioned with a bubble of nerves. My father gave me a gentle, knowing smile .
“He’s here.”
A nervous chuckle escaped me.
“I’ll go and take my seat then, see you all in a bit,” my mother said and set off through the house.
We only had a few minutes to wait before it was time. I took my dad’s arm and Amy and Chrissy took their places behind me.
Walking slowly through our house toward the patio doors that led out in the back garden where the ceremony would take place felt like a dream. Almost like I was floating above my body and looking down and then I saw him and everything became so real.
Nixon was standing at the bottom of our garden near the floral archway with Mason by his side. The music was playing softly, entertaining the guests who were seated evenly down both sides. He must have sensed me as he turned and his eyes met mine as I stepped out onto the patio.
Even from that distance, I could read that look. His expression was full of pride and possession, like his gaze was stamping his ownership on me, like a brand and I savoured that feel of butterflies that kicked off in my tummy.
Nixon was such a handsome man and the suit fitted him perfectly, almost like it had been tailored. His broad shoulders pushed against the material of the jacket, highlighting the strength of that body beneath the cotton.
Everyone stood as the song changed and turned to look at me. I felt a quick jet of anxiety but as soon as we started walking it vanished.
Nobody else existed as we started that journey down the carpeted aisle. It was just Nixon and I, our gazes remaining locked with an invisible thread.
When I came close, Nixon nodded respectfully at my father and took my hand away, his own fingers replacing my dad's.
Amy and Chrissy moved to the opposite side and stood next to Nixon’s brothers who would be sat on the front two rows .
The wedding officiant was smiling tenderly at us both, as was Mason who now stood just behind us. Nixon’s best man.
“Your dress is beautiful Jenna, just like you,” Nixon whispered against the cuff of my ear as the volume of the music decreased. It was time.
Our vows were traditional, we both followed the officiant's lead, each repeating those important words. Our voices were both soft but clear. Mason had given us our rings and we both in turn placed them onto each other's fingers whilst promising to love each other forever. It was so romantic; joy was pulsating through my entire body.
Those last few words confirming we were now man and wife were uttered and there was a round of applause as the music kicked off again.
Nixon lowered his head to mine and placed his lips on my mouth. They were soft yet firm. I had only intended a chaste kiss but Nixon deepened it, his tongue sliding slowly into my mouth once creating that fire between my thighs. He pulled back quickly with a wolfish look that was just for me and I grinned up at him shyly.
“You’re mine now, Jenna. Or should I say, Mrs McKenna?” He then dropped an affectionate kiss on my nose and we turned to our family and friends who were in the process or clapping, cheering, chatting, or taking pictures of us. Mattie was standing by his seat on the second row and he winked playfully at me.
Everyone then made their way to the reception tent and Nixon and I signed all the necessary documents to make our union legal. My hand was shaking when I picked up the pen and Nixon placed his hand tenderly on my arm to ease my nerves. He was already the protective husband. A quiver of longing ran through me at the thought of being alone together. I was appreciative of everything my mother and sisters had done but I was keen to get through the next part and get to our hotel .
Everyone took their tables and the rest of the day went by in a whirlwind. The speeches were good, even my father’s, although his voice did crack a couple of times. Nixon’s was amazing, he was so articulate, complementing me constantly and my parents which was nice. He also commented on how beautiful my sisters looked and I glanced over to see Amy’s expression but it remained guarded.
Nixon’s parents were on one side of the top table and mine were on the other with Nixon, myself, and Mason in the middle. They were on talking terms but I thought it better to keep them apart so they didn’t feel uncomfortable. The rest of our family and friends were sitting in front of us at the circular tables. A small bar was set up at one side of the marquee and there was a doorway which led out to where the caterers had set everything up. Several waiting staff were on hand.
Just after the wedding breakfast, I was on my way back from the toilet when Charles appeared. I bumped into him at the doorway into the marquee. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and so I knew he hadn’t changed his mind. He looked sheepish as he handed me a large box that was gift-wrapped.
“Wow, you look beautiful but then again, I knew you would. Congratulations. I’m sorry I couldn’t come,” Charles began, his voice cracking slightly.
My brow threaded, “I don’t understand why you didn’t.”
He shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable and so I prompted, “Charles?”
The boy I had considered my closest friend dashed a hand through his hair, “I’m not sure, my head is a shed at the minute. I guess I thought this day would be about you and me,” he said and shock vibrated through my system.
I opened my mouth to reply but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I had never seen Charles in that way. Nixon’s words echoed through my mind.
“My wedding day? Why? I don’t understand.” His confession was too much of a shock not to question .
He must have seen how he had floored me by his response and he backpedaled, “Look, forget it for now. Just enjoy your day, allow me to lick my wounds and I’ll message you next week, OK?”
Wounds? W hat wounds ? I watched as he hopped from one foot to the next, agitated. I had a wedding to get back to and so I didn’t push him, “Thank you for the gift. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you too.” Charles then smiled and placed a kiss on my lips which startled me. As he moved away, I turned back towards the tent and my eyes met Nixon’s. He was standing in the doorway of the marquee. He’d witnessed the exchange between Charles and me but if it bothered him, he didn’t show it.
I smiled and he returned it and took the gift from me, placing it on the table with all the presents. He then led me back into the room with one hand resting gently on my back.
As Nixon and I took to the floor for our first dance, I could feel Boyd’s eyes burning into my back but I decided to ignore him. There was no way he was going to spoil my special day. I had thought he’d come around and accepted things between Nixon and I, but obviously not.
I followed my husband as he rocked us back and forth to the music, one strong hand against the bottom of my back.
“I can’t wait for us to be alone,” Nixon whispered as we swayed to the music, the harpist was playing a version of Carrying a Torch by Van Morrison. The song we had chosen for our first dance.
“Me too. Not long now,” I whispered up into his eyes. I could see carnal need written into every contour of his face.
“I’m going to taste you, everywhere,” Nixon said in a throaty voice against the shell of my ear and my whole body started singing.
“And I you,” I replied, my voice thickening with primitive need .
I was now Mrs Jennifer McKenna, married to the boy from my dreams and we had the rest of our lives to look forward to and nothing or no one would ever come between us.