Chapter 10 #2
But no matter how estranged I felt from my family, how different I’d become, I did miss them and looked forward to the wedding. In fact, I hadn’t been at a wedding since Dani’s, and that probably didn’t count.
I felt some relief that the wedding was taking place at a venue about a hundred miles south from my parents’ place—which meant I didn’t have to spend the night there.
Instead, I flew into Bozeman and spent the night there before driving the next day to Three Forks.
The wedding wasn’t being held there, but it was the town closest to the actual venue—which was held at a farm on the plains, surrounded by the Rockies in the distance.
My mother called me twice to make sure I was coming—and, of course, I assured her I was. Although I didn’t say it, I planned to show up just in time so I could avoid awkward chitchat. It was stupid, of course, because it wasn’t like I was going to haul ass out of there as soon as it was done.
But the drive would take less than an hour, so after checking out of the hotel at the last possible second, I grabbed a bite to eat.
I wore something I never would on the job or in the evenings nowadays, but something that wouldn’t be too offensive to my family: a sleeveless summer dress covered by a black cardigan, hiding most of my tattoos.
I also pulled up my hair so that much of the purple was hidden in the mass—and I pulled out all of my earrings except for one on each side.
It wasn’t that I wanted to be inauthentic with my family and their friends, but I wasn’t in the mood for being judged.
Instead, I wanted the focus to be where it should—on my brother and his bride.
As the car got closer and closer to the venue, I felt my hands tighten on the wheel, because I knew what to expect.
Still, I maybe had it a little easier than my third brother, Creed.
We’d never talked about it, but I suspected he was gay.
He’d been attending a religious college in Missouri when I graduated high school and left home—but then, instead of returning home, he moved to New York City and had been trying to break into theater ever since.
He came home even less than I did. I knew we could be allies…if we’d ever have a chance to talk.
When I arrived, I felt almost like I’d stepped back in time.
Aside from not being in the heart of the mountains, the venue was similar—with a huge, airy barn with polished floors, wood beam ceilings complete with lots of lights and fans.
The wedding itself, however, was outside on a lush lawn full of chairs.
I hadn’t brought a gift with me, having given them money through some website that they’d supplied with the invitation. I’d never met the bride before, but last Christmas, my youngest brother Jericho hadn’t been home, instead spending time with his then-girlfriend’s family.
As I walked over to the chairs lined up under the sun, my mother spotted me and walked over. As she pulled me into an embrace, she said, “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
I whispered, “I told you I would.”
There was music playing from around the area of the barn, some light classical music setting the scene. It was warm—almost hot—and if it wasn’t for the breeze, I’d have to remove my cardigan.
My mother said, “I’ll see you after the ceremony.” And off she went, walking down the aisle quickly to find her seat by my father. I hadn’t remembered until then, but I saw that I would be sitting on the right-hand side—and I found a place at the back and watched the wedding.
It was lovely, and I could tell that Jericho loved his bride Charity more than words could say.
But I felt like I was back at home again, with all the talk of God approving the marriage and about not letting man “put asunder” what “God hath joined” together.
There was no escaping the memories that flooded my brain during the ceremony—but I reminded myself that I would be flying out tomorrow.
When the ceremony ended, my youngest brother and his bride came down the aisle first, followed by his best man, my oldest brother Magnus, and two groomsmen I didn’t know—although one of them looked like one of Jericho’s old high school buddies, a kid he’d played football with.
As I made my way through the reception line, I shook hands with her parents and then got another hug from my mother. My father smiled warmly and pulled me into an embrace. “Good to see you, Roxanne.”
“You too, dad.”
When I got to Jericho and his bride, he introduced me—but I figured she was already overwhelmed with all the family members here…
not to mention being a bride. I’d seen how stressful it had been on Dani and, while this particular bride had gone through with it, I imagined it was still a little nerve-wracking.
I didn’t know most of these people, so I stayed outside for a while and got out my phone, sending a text to Dani. My little brother’s getting married today, and I feel like a sore thumb here.
But she was still on tour, so I didn’t expect a response.
Then I texted Braden. I’m at my little brother’s wedding today.
I didn’t expect him to answer either, so I checked my email, seeing what new assignments I could look forward to, and it was a few minutes later that my second-in-line brother approached me, pulling me into an embrace almost before I could stop him.
“Hey, Dev.” Deveraux French was the biggest of all my brothers—but instead of going into ranching like both my oldest and youngest brother did, he worked for a construction company in town.
“Rox, how’ve you been?”
“Busy.”
“Yeah,” he said, stroking his light-brown beard. “We wondered if you were gonna make it.”
“Here I am,” I said, sounding as cheerful as possible. “I didn’t want to miss it. I mean…how often do you get to see your youngest brother get married?”
“Glad you put it that way.” Dev looked much like all the men in the family, and they all took after our father: tall and broad, but the sons had thick brown hair while my dad’s was black.
The only difference between my brothers was that some of them had green eyes while others had brown.
My mom always said I got my blue eyes from her and my dark hair from my father.
But they never asked where I got my black sheep ways.
“When will you be getting married?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to a possible pleasant topic.
“Up until a month ago, I would have told you I had no idea. But I’ve been dating a woman who works in the office—and she’s the kind of girl mom and dad would be proud of.”
That was code for a woman who would go to church and probably wouldn’t have sex before marriage.
As if to confirm my suspicions, he added, “I’m probably going to be bringing her to church and Sunday dinner next week.”
“So I’ll probably be coming to another wedding next year?”
“Well…we’ll have to wait and see, but you know what mom and dad said.”
I knew a lot of what they’d said over the years, but I wasn’t sure where my brother was going with this. “About?”
“When you find the right one, why wait?”
Nodding, I couldn’t help but think about myself. If I’d ever found the one, I was starting to suspect it might be Braden. But did we even have something? If we did, it was secret, not like the public declaration of love I’d just witnessed.
I tried not to feel sad—but Dev’s next words helped. “You and Creed…you always made it look easy.” Before I could ask what he meant, he said, “Leaving.”
I felt a sadness open up inside my abdomen. When I’d left, it had been to find myself…to try to discover who I was, outside the watchful eyes of conditional love, where I knew that every step could cause disapproval or shame.
I was running away from them, not running to something. I’d thought by getting away I would be free, but here I was, still tethered to the past. It was why I hated visiting my family instead of just enjoying them for who they were.
I didn’t want to run anymore. What I was doing with my life today, while I knew I loved it, I also understood that it wasn’t freedom either.
It was just different.
And, until I escaped the prison of my mind, I would never be free.
Where would Braden fit in all that when I finally figured out who I really was and what I really wanted?
At the reception, people were getting drinks and mingling, waiting for the wedding party’s photo session to finish—and I was antsy as hell.
I’d made it through the first part with few emotional bruises, but now everything was looser and freer and less contained.
My parents didn’t drink much, but their religion didn’t forbid it, meaning I could drink something without judgment. And I knew I could use a beer.
Or ten.
And who knew how alcohol loosening the tongues of my family would make things all the more uncomfortable? Why hadn’t I thought to bring a guest?
Well, I had. I’d thought of asking Dani and even Braden, but they were in the middle of a tour. And the few friends I had at Ferocity were all on assignment—and I did not want any of them finding out my roots anyway.
So I was on my own.
Fortunately, though, I got a response from my earlier text to Braden where I’d mentioned that I was at Jericho’s wedding: That sounds fun. Are you in Montana or…?
While standing at the open bar waiting for my turn, I typed a message back. Yep. It’s a big place.
I guess it is. We’ve driven through it before. It’s not as big as Texas, but.
I laughed, because, yeah, what else could he say? So I typed, Way more mountains, tho.
How’s the wedding? he asked.
Well, I wasn’t struck by lightning when the preacher talked about blessing all the witnesses at my bro’s wedding, so that’s a plus.
While Braden was typing a reply, I glanced up and noticed my mother approaching me. She wore her salt-and-pepper hair short with soft waves and her makeup was subtle, but the few wrinkles she had weren’t too noticeable.
It was her voice that always made me pause.
Although it could have a kind tone on occasions such as these, I remembered the sharp rebukes of childhood—of needing to maintain a modest appearance, of not having spent enough time reading my Bible, of not getting my chores done.
Still, I loved her and my dad, but at best I would have called our relationship complicated.
Although I flashed her a smile, I glanced down at my phone and read the text Braden had sent. If they’re smart, they know how lucky they are to have you there. You make everything better.
I felt the same way about him—but I’d have to tell him that later.
As my mother drew near, I only had time to press that message and give it a heart emoji.
When I looked up, I noticed there were two women with her and I guessed the three of them were lining up for drinks, which meant I couldn’t be ignored.
My mother, the image of poise and primness, introduced the women to me before saying, “We’re patiently waiting for our daughter here to finish sowing her wild oats and come home. ”
Forcing a smile, I shook the women’s hands, wondering how they’d feel if they could see the tattoos under the sleeves of the cardigan. “Oh, hi.”
“Bonnie and Phyllis go to our church.” As I nodded, my mother added, “Roxanne used to be a member as well, but…she’s a music journalist now with…a bit of a wild streak.”
I hadn’t heard myself called Roxanne in years. Even my family usually called me Roxy, but my mother probably wanted my name to have a punitive feel.
And it worked.
The woman named Bonnie took both my hands in hers.
The expression in her pale blue eyes took me back to my teenage years when I’d discovered just how phony a lot of the women in our church could be.
They’d say nice things to your face but then gossip like a tabloid behind your back.
And most of their teenage daughters learned it from them at a young age.
There was something about the way they spoke and looked down on me that always made me feel inferior, even though I had learned the Bible as well as they had.
But I kept the neutral expression on my face. Bonnie said, “I’ll be praying for you, hon.”
What had I expected? I knew my family loved me, but I had not turned out the way they’d wanted—so I was being explained rather than introduced.
Regardless, I would never trade the freedom I’d experienced in the last few years for the cage of old.
When I spoke, my voice was calm and steady.
“Thank you, but I’m happy with my life and choice of career.
While I appreciate your sentiment, there are lots of other people who could use your prayers—like the scores of homeless people across the U.S. ”
Bonnie’s eyes grew wide and, in my peripheral vision, I could see my mother’s mouth turn down. “Oh, I also pray for them, of course.”
While I doubted it, I wasn’t going to say it—and I felt immense gratitude when the guy tending bar got to me, asking what I wanted to drink.
Later on, as we watched the bride and groom dance in the middle of a place where I felt like I didn’t belong, my mind wandered to Braden.
Was I attracted to him because he was the complete opposite of anyone here?
These people—my family and their friends—should have been ones I’d wanted to come back to… but I was always on guard around them.
Did I want Braden because he felt safe?
I couldn’t be sure—but, if that was the case, if that was the only reason I was attracted to the man, I had no business even trying to pursue him.