Dancing with the Bride

(c) 2005 by Penelope Street

The darkness of the Wheeling Tunnel swallowed our sedan. In that instant, my chest felt as hollow as the mountain through which we drove. The light at the end of this particular tunnel looked far from inviting. That glare ahead, I knew, was Ohio. Sure, we still had a couple more hours of driving to go, but this was the final border.

I looked to the driver's seat and Lynn, my lover. Her eyes were forward, as they had been throughout the whole of West Virginia. Neither of us had spoken a word since Pittsburgh.

I judged from Lynn's granite countenance that she was still unwilling to give any quarter for my crime. She was beautiful, even when she was mad, and I'd never seen her angrier. Ok, maybe once. Still, I decided I had to find a way to make up before we reached our destination. I was certain if we failed to reconcile before we arrived, a weekend that already promised to be difficult might well be nothing short of a disaster.

The brightness of sunlight once again surrounded the vehicle, snapping me from my daze. I turned my face to Lynn. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call Denise my daughter. I know I said it, but I didn't mean it that way."

Lynn kept her eyes fixed to the ribbon of asphalt that stretched into the rolling hills before us. "What other way can you have meant it?"

"The same way you would if you called her your daughter," I countered.

"I always call her our daughter," Lynn insisted.

"Even when I'm not around? Surely if you're in a store with Denise, you'd say, 'I'm here with my daughter.' Saying 'our daughter' instead just wouldn't make sense."

"We weren't in a store, were we?"

"No."

"And you've never said 'my daughter' before in my presence, have you?"

My gaze fell to my feet. "No."

"To know that you could even think that," Lynn paused to pan her face my way, "that really hurt. I don't think you would have hurt me that much if you had asked for a separation."

My eyes leapt from the floor to hers. "I never want to be with anyone but you!"

Lynn swallowed through a grimace. "Me neither." She popped her face forward, but not before I saw a tear emerge from her eye and start to make its way down her cheek.

"What do you want me to say?" I begged, hoping my expression conveyed all the sorrow I felt in my heart. "I said I was sorry. I really didn't mean anything. I was just stressed. I still am. Can't you forgive me?"

Lynn's diminutive frame swelled as she passed a mammoth breath. "You know there's only way you can ever truly say you're sorry; for anything."

"How?"

"Never do it again."

I paused to swallow as I considered her words. Within seconds, I concluded she was absolutely correct. "I won't," I promised, my head bobbing as if my neck was a broken spring.

"Fair enough," Lynn agreed. "I'll forgive you. But it may take a while before I forget. It really did hurt!"

"I know," I said. "I really do."

"Alright then. Can we talk about something else?"

I glanced to the back seat where our daughter usually sat. "Do you think I was wrong to leave Denise with my mother?"

"That isn't exactly something else."

"Yes it is," I insisted.

Lynn's eyes wandered and her mouth twitched for a handful of seconds. "I still don't understand what it is you're afraid of. This isn't the dark ages and we're lesbians, not mass-murderers. They aren't going to stone us."

"Not with rocks," I countered. "But words can hurt just as bad, and the bruises last longer. You know that."

Lynn nodded, keeping her eyes to the road. "Yes, I know."

"Do you still feel the same way about seeing your dad again?"

Lynn nodded again, this time with more resolution. "When my father disowned me because of who I loved, I disowned him back. I don't intend to acknowledge his existence and I hope he affords me the same."

I sighed as I thought of Lynn's immediate family, or more like ex-family. Her father had indeed renounced her existence in every way possible. I had always felt guilty about the breech, especially when I considered how open-minded my parents had been regarding my choice of partners. "I still can't believe your mom won't talk to her only child."

"Yeah," Lynn sighed. "That does bother me. But she is very religious and my dad has her ear; and the checkbook."

"All of your family can't feel that way," I noted. "Chad did invite you to his wedding."

"That's my point," Lynn began. "About you being worried for nothing. It is his wedding, after all; and if my cousin wants me there then I think everyone else will at least respect that and not make a scene."

"You said me," I noted.

"What?"

"You said, 'my cousin wants me there.' You didn't say us."

Lynn glanced my way. "My cousin is smart, just like you; but he's more subtle. The invitation was to Wendy Sullivan and Lynn Radcliffe. I know it was not an accident that he put your name first. He wants us both to come."

Gravity claimed my eyes for a few moments before I brought them back to my companion's face. "I thought maybe he was just being polite."

Lynn shrugged. "Even if that's all it is, aren't you worried about people being impolite?"

"I guess," I admitted. "But it seems like it would have caused a lot less waves if you'd gone without me."

"We discussed this last week!" Lynn snapped. "If we don't show up a couple, then they win. You know it's true!"

Ah. They. Anonymous plural people. Or in this case ubiquitous narrow-minded rural anonymous plural people. "Small towns just scare me." I noted with a shake of my head.

"We even get looks back in Philly," Lynn countered. "Remember?"

"True," I agreed. "It isn't always the city of sisterly love either."

Lynn beamed. "Exactly! It's not just the small towns. You're rushing to judge them in the same way you expect them to rush to judge us. You have to give them a chance to be bigots before you hate them for it."

I stiffened at the accusation that I was guilty of the same sin as those I despised, or at least wanted to despise. My spine collapsed with my ire; I sank back into my seat. "You're right," I admitted. "I have to give them a chance first." I cut my eyes her way. "But don't think I won't enjoy saying 'I told you so' before I start hating them!"

Lynn chuckled. "I know you will."

As the journey continued, my partner's spirits appeared to climb, and mine alongside. By the time we bedded down in a Columbus motel, I was at least comfortable that my love had forgiven me. How the town would feel about us the next day, I was far less comfortable about that.

We kissed goodnight and cuddled as we always do, but I found sleep would not arrive. For hours my wide eyes stared into the gloom of a tomorrow I could see no clearer than the other side of the dark motel room.

* * * * *

"Here we are," Lynn announced. "Beautiful downtown Melville, population a few hundred; maybe."

We weren't really downtown yet; that was few hundred yards away. I gawked at the houses and trees that lined Main Street amid the afternoon sun. It was the main street, indeed the only paved road, of the small town. Some homes, like the trees, were large, some small; some new, some old. But each was different. I thought back to our home in the suburbs, where every fourth house was identical. Of course, Melville's suburbs consisted of but a half-dozen streets. Then we were truly downtown; in the business district, which, near as I could tell, consisted of three bars, the post office, a gas station, and a grain silo.

"What's it like to live where you can walk across town in five minutes?" I wondered aloud.

Lynn chuckled. "Want to move here and find out?"

"No!"

"Relax," Lynn counseled. "By this time tomorrow we'll be headed home."

I nodded through a sigh. "You're right. It'll be good to be home again." I thought about the week to follow, glad I had taken an extra day off and did not have to return to work until Wednesday.

Lynn piloted the car onto the gravel of a side street toward the tallest structure in town, if one did not count the silo or the water tower. The steeple rose above us as we approached. My eyes were locked on the pinnacle, recalling the days when the fanatical followers of the faith impaled or burned those who failed to adhere to the accepted interpretation of the scriptures.

"Here we are," Lynn announced, killing the engine. She looked beyond our car at the other well-dressed guests meandering toward the chapel. "And look, no torches and pitchforks."

I smiled. "Maybe they're in the trunks."

"Maybe they're in your head."

"Maybe," I admitted with a nod.

My eyes found Lynn's face. It was as angelic as ever. Her pale blue dress complimented her golden hair and matched her sparkling eyes, accentuating her loveliness. "You're so pretty," I muttered, thinking out loud more than anything else.

For the first time I fretted about my appearance, and how the people might regard me. I figured even those that did accept Lynn as a lesbian would probably think she could have done better than me.

"You're lovely too," Lynn replied, her face aglow. "Brunettes always look good in lavender!"

I smiled as my eyes fell to the purple of my dress and the soft figure beneath it. I knew Lynn really did find me attractive, no matter what anyone else thought. Not for the first time, or the last, I resolved not to care what anyone else thought. With a smile, I reached for the door handle.

Lynn and I walked to the church side-by-side. Though we often strolled hand-in-hand back in Philadelphia, neither of us made any move to grasp the other's palm. Lynn presented our invitation to the usher, who promptly escorted us to the next open pew on the groom's side.

"I didn't see your family," I whispered as we took our seats.

"Forth row," Lynn replied in a most stoic tone. "Far left."

I craned my neck. "Your mom, is that her in the yellow dress?"

"Yes," Lynn said, without so much as a glance that direction.

I sank back into my seat. Unsure what to make of her curt response, I decided to let the issue die. My eyes roamed the chapel in the awkward minutes that preceded the ceremony. I was certain I had scoured every detail in both the statues and the stained glass before I finally heard the first welcome notes of "Here Comes the Bride."

And what a bride! My chest and the heart within froze as I beheld her beauty. Her face was chiseled elegance, at once too perfect to be real yet too majestic to be otherwise. Her eyes sparkled as they moved in a pattern timed with each methodical step. The dress was lovely, made lovelier by the consummate figure beneath it. As she passed, I saw her jet-black hair shimmer as it trailed onto her back in much the same manner that the train of her dress sparkled as it slid across the crimson carpet.

My lips formed a bitter pout as I realized I would most likely never make that long walk nor wear a wedding dress. I shifted my gaze to Lynn. Sure, I considered us to be a permanent couple, but it had never been driven home quite so clearly that society would not allow us make our love officially eternal.

Lynn leaned her head closer to me. "Rachel does look lovely," she whispered.

I leaned my face toward hers. "Yes. She does," I agreed. As I watched the bride approach the altar, I realized I was not jealous of her beauty; I was jealous that she had the right to proclaim the feelings she harbored for her beloved to all the world; while I did not.

The clergyman proceeded to deliver his discourse and then led the couple through their vows. With each word, my resentment grew at the establishment that favored what I had come to know as but a narrow band of all the love two humans can share. By the time the minister introduced the couple as man and wife, I was steamed.

"Slow down," Lynn insisted as I stomped ahead toward our car. "What's the rush."

I forced myself to walk at a more deliberate pace. "I don't know," I said. A second later, I realized that was an outright lie. I stopped and faced my partner. "Ok, I do know. It pisses me off that institutions that claim to serve a loving god won't allow people to love one another as they see fit. There's what, a million ways humans can hate one another but only one way we're allowed to love? That's just bullshit! Oh, they claim to love the sinner, but hate the sin, but that's bullshit too. They hate both. They hate us for loving one another. How stupid is that? Well I hate them back! Every damn one of them!"

"Oh, Wendy," Lynn whispered with a gentle sigh. "I'm just thankful I'm allowed to love you at all. Sure, I thought about marrying you while we were in there. And it wasn't the first time I thought of it, but I don't need to announce to everyone that I'll love you forever. I only need to announce it to you. And you know it, don't you?"

I sniffed back a tear as I nodded my agreement. "I wish we could just go home."

"I know," Lynn said. "And, frankly, so do I. But look, no one stoned us yet, right? No one even said anything rude."

I twisted my lips as I considered her words. "No one said anything, period."

Lynn shrugged. "Most of them don't even know us. Those that do will probably pay us a visit at the reception, which is why we have to go. Who knows, it may even be fun!"

I shrugged. "Ok. Let's go get it over with." With that I started again for the car.

"Look," Lynn prompted, stopping me in my tracks. "I cherish how emotional and compassionate you are. You have to believe we are doing something today simply by being here. It's our small part, but at least we're doing it."

"You're right," I said. "It just doesn't seem like anyone else cares."

"They do," Lynn insisted. "Just because we can't see the difference in a single day doesn't mean it's not happening. A few generations ago, we couldn't have been an open couple. In the course of human history, that much change in such a short time is a minor miracle."

I scratched my ear with my shoulder. "I suppose you're right."

We resumed our trip to the car and made the short drive to the local community center.

"What do you know about the bride's family?" I asked as we got out of our vehicle.

"Rachel? Not much. I guess her family is one of the more influential ones in the area. Her father is, like, the mayor or the sheriff, I forget which."

I nodded, then chuckled. "Probably both."

Lynn shared my amusement with a snort. "Probably."

I got my first glimpse of Lynn's parents as we took our seat at the reception. As if to make his already understood position clear, her father changed seats at his table so his back was to us. I could not help but smile when Lynn at once reciprocated the gesture.

Thus Lynn and I sat on the edge of the hall, generally ignored by everyone, even those at our table. Having little else to do, I most likely consumed a chalice too much of wine after dinner. I found myself looking at the clock and willing it to move faster, yet the stubborn timepiece had no intention of heeding my plea.

"At least they aren't stoning us," Lynn quipped.

"No pitchforks either," I noted with a smirk. "Not yet anyway."

It was true. Throughout the day, not a soul had openly assaulted us with either word or deed, but there had been the looks, and the pointing. I was fairly certain I'd heard some snickers, but that was the extent of any overt discourtesy. For the most part, everyone just ignored us, which was fine with me. I prayed it was fine with Lynn.

My eyes moved to the clock again. Two minutes since last time I had looked.

"I think it's been long enough," Lynn said, noting my interest in the timepiece. "If you want to leave, I think we can do so and not be rude."

I glanced to Lynn's parents then back to her. "You know you want to wait and give your mom a chance to stop by. I know she's thinking of doing just that. She has to be."

Lynn shook her head. "She's had her chance. Besides, if it was that important, I could go over there. Sometimes stubborn people get what they deserve."

I wasn't sure if Lynn was referring to her mother or herself. "I think we should stay," I suggested. "That way they can ignore us some more. Makes me feel like we're winning."

Lynn managed a slight grin. "That a girl!"

The second hand on the clock had made but four revolutions before I was already regretting my hasty decision to remain.

"We're gonna speed things up a bit!" called the DJ through his microphone. I hoped he meant the clock, but true to his word, the man started a fast, hard song; one not even suited for dancing. Those over college age left the floor en masse.

My focus shifted from the dance area to the head table where I spied the groom chatting with a few folks. He parted with the small group and walked our direction. I looked once over each shoulder, confirming there was no one else near.

"Chad's headed this way," I noted. "Maybe he'll prove me wrong and dance with you after all."

Lynn looked to me and smiled. "Who knows? Maybe he'll prove you way wrong and dance with you!"

I snorted my general contempt. "Care to make a wager?"

Lynn shook her head. "I wouldn't want to take your money."

"Good evening, ladies," said Chad as he reached our table.

"Hi," replied Lynn with a broad smile.

I nodded politely. "Hi."

The groom turned to his cousin. "I was wondering if I might have this dance?"

Lynn looked to me. "You sure you don't want to go first?"

I vibrated my head to and fro. "No! I'm a lousy slow dancer and a worse fast one."

"Ok," said Lynn, giving me a wink. "Your loss." Rising, she accepted her cousin's hand and they walked onto the dance floor.

I watched them for a minute or so before shifting my attention to the onlookers. I expected to find a few people whispering and pointing, but no one seemed to take any notice of the groom and the lesbian dancing together. I hoped I would be just as invisible when my turn came, if I couldn't find some way to avoid the obligation altogether.

The song had just begun to wind down and I was thinking of making a dash to hide in the washroom when I heard a voice over my shoulder.

"Would you care to dance?"

I was startled anyway, doubly so since the voice was feminine. Turning, I found Rachel standing behind me, her face bright and cheerful. My head snapped right, then left, before returning to the bride.

"Me?"

Rachel flashed a wide smile and extended her hand. "Why not you?"

My jaw fell and my eyes with it. I had intended to decline. I wanted to decline. This is a trap, my timid side cautioned. You are about to be the butt of some cruel joke. Don't fall for it.

Hoping for a clue to what I ought do, I looked to the floor where Lynn and Chad still twisted to the rapid beat of the music. Their focus was upon one another. I forced my gaze back to the bride's face. She was even lovelier up close. I saw not a hint of malice in her features. If she's going to play a joke on me, I reasoned, then that's her sin; not mine!

"Thank you," I said, placing my palm in hers. My eyes flitted in every direction as I tried to gauge the reactions of various onlookers. I was certain every eye was upon the pudgy lesbian and the elegant bride walking hand in hand.

As Rachel and I hit the floor, the DJ killed the bright lights and went to a soft song, one that would have made Lawrence Welk proud. The young crowd vacated the dance area at once. Some of the older crowd started to return, but stopped. I inhaled a stiff breath as I realized we were the only two people left on the floor.

My eyes must have been wide with fright.

"Relax," Rachel said. "Everything's going to be alright." She grasped my hand and began to lead. The leggy brunette was a truly excellent dancer; she even managed to seem graceful dragging me around. But my attention was not on her.