The Ninth Wedding #7
“Yes,” V replies firmly. “And then, when you’re done, I’m going to ask you two how you feel and what you want. See what the song says to you.”
J leads them to the piano in the suite. Thor and Meta sit down next to each other on the couch, hand in hand, an expectant audience.
In you I see myself
In you I see someone I loved
Your stupid youthful ignorance
I’ll tell you where it can be shoved
I want to warn you
I want to teach you
I want to tell you to cover your ears
and ignore every word I have to say
Because I think that you will make it
but I know the rules for traveling in time
If I tell you how things went for me
will that change your path further down the line?
Cause I’m a sad old time traveler
trying to find the point where things went wrong
but you don’t get a second chance, once it’s done it’s done
You learn so much that you can’t unlearn
You burn so soft but you can’t unburn
And for every time you’re hurt the ice sheet grows
Silently it snows
Ask Antarctica, it knows
So open your ears now
not to me but to each other
You are young now, you are here now
Even Antarctica is filled with flowers
Do you hear the song
playing softly
from somewhere
deep within?
That’s the song that my song wants you to sing
He isn’t paying any attention to Thor or Meta. He’s looking at V, and V can’t look J in the eye. She’s said goodbye and he’s said goodbye, but this is it, the real goodbye, the jagged corners of the break. What more can he wish Thor and Meta than that they avoid such a fate?
“Thank you, old man,” Thor says when J is finished, completely oblivious to what has just occurred. “Though really, you’re not that old.”
Meta, however, looks at V sympathetically, and then at J with a little less sympathy. “I promise to ignore every word you say,” she tells him. Then she reaches over for Thor’s hand and holds it tight.
V recovers and turns her attention back to the young couple. “So,” she says, “now we reach the moment of decision. Thor and Meta, do you feel you are married already?”
“Yes,” they both say.
“Do you want to be together for as long as it takes?”
“Yes,” Meta says, at the same time Thor says, “Absolutely.”
“Do you feel any need or desire to repeat this in front of all your guests?”
“No,” they both say.
“Then I now pronounce you Thor and Meta, as you were meant to be. If you’d like to kiss, go ahead.”
They do. At length.
“Now,” V says when they’re through, “here’s how I suggest you proceed: Cancel the ceremony, tell everyone you eloped, and keep the party. You don’t need any witnesses—that’s what we’re here for. What you need are people to celebrate you. And celebrate they shall. I picked out the DJ, after all.”
“And you don’t want me to perform, do you?” J asks.
“I don’t think so,” V says. “I think that song doesn’t go any farther than this.”
Calls are made to certain family members.
Texts are sent to everyone else. Meta’s mother is aghast, and the wedding planner has a panic attack, but everyone else is fine.
Some, J suspects, are even relieved to not have to sit through yet another wedding ceremony, including the rental priest, who will still be paid for the day.
For about an hour, J gets to see what V must be like at work.
She takes the things that could veer into chaos and sets their course for completion.
When Meta gets overwhelmed by the messages from her mother, V takes her phone and manages the crisis.
When Thor starts to get fidgety after the hairstylist and makeup artist arrive for Meta, V orders Thor and J to the minibar, then the balcony, so they can have a quiet toast and stay out of the way.
Once the new timing of the day has been confirmed, makeup and hair are near finished, and two other bridesmaids—a cousin and a high school friend—have arrived, V turns to J and says, “My work here is done.” Thor hugs each of them for a very long time before they leave, and Meta just shakes her head, as if to say There are no words right now .
V tells her not to worry—it’s all a party from here.
It is only when they are away from everyone else, waiting for the elevator, that J has a chance to tell V, “Good job.”
He expects her to reply with something along the lines of “I know.” But instead her shoulders sag a little, and her expression is tinged with sadness, not achievement.
“Is it?” she asks.
“What do you mean? You saved the day.”
“But do you really think they should be married? They’re so young, J. And I encouraged them.”
“They’re in love. Truly in love. Isn’t that what matters most? And they were already married. You didn’t lead them to the altar.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that—thanks for the tip-off, by the way.”
“They swore me to—”
“It’s okay. Really. I guess right now I wonder why we do this to ourselves.”
“You mean, weddings?”
“Sure. Let’s say I mean weddings.”
J reaches up and touches her arm. “Come on. You don’t mean that. You were all adrenaline in there, and now it’s fading out. Even if you have doubts that Thor and Meta will make it. And even if we didn’t make it...that has nothing to do with them.”
“Yes, I know that,” V says. “It just exhausts me sometimes.”
“That’s definitely a key part of it.”
“Don’t stop playing weddings, J. What you do...it’s a form of kindness. And love needs to be given as much kindness as possible.”
“I just keep thinking I’ll find something here.”
“All the weddings in the world can’t teach you about love. Only love can teach you about love.”
The elevator finally arrives. They step inside and V hits the button for the lobby.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” J says.
The elevator doors open. J steps out, but V doesn’t leave.
“I’m actually going to go back up to my room to change out of this dress,” she explains. “I’ll see you at the party. Save a dance for me.”
“I guess I’ll have coffee,” J says. “Even though I’m tempted to change into your dress.”
“It’s not your color.”
With that, she releases the door-open button, and the doors close on her looking out at him.
J feels an impossible combination of sensations, wound and scar at once. His relationship with V is over, but it also feels completed .
He stares up to the penthouse, wishing Thor and Meta luck, and strength, and humor, and flexibility, and music, and honesty, and time.
He knows they will need all of it, every day.