The Woman She'd Already Become

You've seen those pictures in the glossy magazines of the young woman dressed in boots and tweeds who stops beside the stone wall of the country estate, her cheeks slightly flushed from the briskness of her walk, her arm reaching down to pet the handsome setters at her feet, her smile so full of wholesome radiance that you can't help but turn back later to take another look. I sat in front of a girl with that kind of radiance in English class my junior year of college. Her name was Mary Ellen.

We both tended to arrive to class a few minutes early, and over the course of the semester we'd fallen into a sort of easy ongoing conversation about this and that. She never put on airs, but you could tell she was a cut above. Not only because of her clothes and the way she carried herself, but also because she sometimes jetted off on weekend trips and didn't get back in time for class on Monday. On those occasions she would ask to borrow my notes. I don't think she had any idea how closely I paid attention on the days she wasn't there, or even how straight I sat up in my desk the days she was.

I rarely saw her outside of class. I had no illusions that anything could ever happen between the two of us. She was way out of my league---rich, sophisticated, a life waiting for her after college that I couldn't even imagine. She was one of three or four girls I had platonic crushes on that semester.

-----

One day toward the end of the term, Mary Ellen caught up with me after class.

"Hector, I wonder if I could ask you a favor?"

"Sure," I replied, "Do you want to borrow my notes again?"

"Not this time. It's something else. Kind of a big favor. A close friend of mine is getting married. I'm going to be one of the bridesmaids. But now, at the very last minute, the boy who was supposed to be my escort has dropped out of the picture." She paused to gauge my reaction. "And I wondered if I could ask you to escort me?"

I was flabbergasted. "Me? I mean, sure, I guess. But don't you have anyone else you'd rather ask instead?"

She replied rather shyly. "There are other boys I could ask. But I thought it might be fun to go with you."

I didn't know what to say.

"The wedding is this weekend," she continued. "I'm sorry that it's such terribly short notice."

So that was it, I thought. The society boys were all booked up. What about good old Hector in English class? Surely he won't have anything better to do. But the way she looked at me---hopeful, yet afraid I might turn her down. So what if I was only a last minute consideration. She was asking me a favor. How could I say no?

"Sure, Mary Ellen. Sure. Of course. I'd be happy to go with you."

Her face lit up like the Midwestern sun. "Oh, that's splendid, Hector."

"Um, what does an escort have to do, exactly?" I didn't know a tuxedo from a cummerbund. I didn't want to be an embarrassment to her.

"You'll just be my date, that's all. It's a small wedding, very informal. Jacket and tie. Nothing fancy."

A date with the most beautiful girl on campus! And in her mind I was doing her a favor.

-----

We drove off on a glorious Spring afternoon, with new green life burgeoning from every field and every little patch along the roadside. The wedding was halfway across the state, and Mary Ellen guided me from the freeway onto the state highway, then onto a county road. Finally she began counting mail boxes. We turned into a gravel lane that dipped across a little ditch and turned toward an old farmhouse. I parked beside the other cars on the grass.

People came down from the porch and met us halfway across the yard. Abby, the bride, tall and blonde, hugged Mary Ellen as if they were long separated sisters. Tom, the groom, shy but happy, hugged Mary Ellen and shook my hand. There were cousins, friends, a whole happy company full of cheer and optimism.

Tom took us upstairs to a small bedroom with flowery wallpaper and a brass double bed. It took Mary Ellen and me a while to realize that the room was intended for the two of us.

"Thanks, Tom," she said. "It's great." But she was clearly embarrassed. When Tom left, she said, "Let me go talk to Abby."

I hung up my jacket and trousers in the closet, just for something to do. In a few minutes, she came back with a concerned look on her face.

"Hector," she said, "Please believe me that I had no idea that this was going to happen. It was supposed to be dormitory style, two rooms for boys and two for girls. But apparently everyone else is either married or boyfriend and girlfriend, and when they started arriving today, Abby let them stay together as couples instead of keeping to the original plan. Now this is the only room left. I explained our situation. She's going to see what she can do."

I felt bad that she felt so bad. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm sure things will straighten themselves out."

-----

We drove into town for the rehearsal. The church was a picturesque, white clapboard, small-town church. The minister wore jeans and had an understated, friendly sincerity that I found very compelling. I didn't have any formal part in the ceremony, so I just watched the others from my pew.

Back at the farmhouse I helped Abby's uncle Vernon set some chairs in a big circle on the lawn. The house belonged to him and his wife Lynn, Abby's aunt. They were staying in town over the weekend to let us use the house, but they'd come out for the rehearsal supper. I helped Lynn set up the serving table. Everybody was friendly and nice. I wondered if some of the people were from Mary Ellen's jet set crowd, but if they were, I couldn't really tell.

Mary Ellen sat beside me during supper, and although she often had to buzz off on official or unofficial business, she always buzzed back again. She introduced me to her friends and laughed at my jokes and considered my opinions and sometimes put her hand on my arm in an affectionate way. She acted as if this were a real date and she was glad to be with me.

Later on I sat beside Lynn for a while. She was in her fifties, probably, her hair starting to turn gray. She'd lived in the farm house all her adult life, raised her children there, raised Abby too, to a large extent, most of every summer. She listened kindly to my platitudes and peach-fuzz aspirations.

"I'm glad that Mary Ellen has found such a fine young man," she said, patting my hand. I didn't have the heart to explain.

-----

Abby found an opportunity to take Mary Ellen and me aside.

"Mary Ellen explained that you're . . . not really a couple," she said. "I truly apologize for putting you in the same room. I had told Mary Ellen that there would be separate rooms, but when people started showing up, it didn't work out that way. I'm really sorry. I wish there was another room you could have, but we're just completely full up. I can ask someone to switch with you, but everybody is already kind of settled in now, and I'd hate to do it unless we really have to.

"So, I guess what I'm asking is, do you think you could manage to share the room for just this one night? Things will be a lot easier tomorrow. Tom and I will be leaving, and one of you can have our room then. But just for tonight, do you think you could share the room?"

The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to create problems for Abby on the night before her wedding. As far as I was concerned, there was no problem at all. But I didn't know how Mary Ellen might feel. Wouldn't she be concerned about what people might think? I tried to decipher her expression, but I couldn't make it out.

"It's all right with me if it's all right with Mary Ellen," I said finally. "But I could just as easily stay in the barn or someplace like that if that would be better."

"No, of course not," said Mary Ellen. "It's fine with me. I just didn't want you to be forced into anything that you didn't want."

"Not at all," I said. "It's fine with me too."

Abby looked at me, then back at Mary Ellen. "Great," she said, much relieved. "One more problem solved."

-----

Eventually couples began drifting off to bed.

"Thanks for being such a good sport about the room," said Mary Ellen.

"Of course." I'd seen an extra comforter in the closet. "I'll just bed down here on the floor."

"Don't be silly. The bed is big enough for both of us."

"Are you sure?"

"Come on, Hector. We might as well both be comfortable."

What she was saying was this: We both knew that our relationship didn't involve physical intimacy, so there was no need to even bring it up. We both respected and trusted each other to do the right thing. So, within those bounds, we might as well make the most of this adventure we found ourselves in.

"Well, there is one problem," I said. "I didn't really think to bring any pajamas."

"Neither did I. I was just going to sleep in my underwear."

"Me too, I'm afraid."

"Well, there's nothing much we can do about it. Why don't we just turn our backs and get ready."

I took off my shoes and socks, then my shirt, and finally my pants. I had on briefs and a tee shirt, which is what I usually slept in. I could hear the rustle of Mary Ellen's clothes, but I couldn't quite figure out what she was taking off and what she was putting on.

"Ready?" she asked.

"All set."

"OK. I'll turn out the light."

I turned around. She was wearing a tee shirt too. It went partway down her thighs. I couldn't tell what she was wearing underneath. I just saw her for a second as she walked to the light switch by the door. Then she came back to the bed in the moonlight.

She got in on her side and I got in on mine. The mattress was soft, and the springs squeaked as we got settled. The sheets were cold.

She pulled the comforter tightly up over her shoulder. She looked so pretty with her head there on the pillow, smiling shyly at me in the moonlight. I had an urge to kiss her, but I knew that that would be out of bounds.

"Brrr," she said.

"Kind of chilly," I said.

"I can't believe that Abby is getting married."

"People do, I guess." Even staying within bounds, it was too good to be true. A tete-a-tete with Marry Ellen, the two of us in our underwear, bundled up together in a strange bed in a strange farmhouse on a magical moonlit night.

"Don't you think we're awfully young to even think about getting married?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do. But I suppose if I was Tom, I wouldn't want to waste a second."

"What do you think of him?"

"I like him. He comes across a little shy and hesitant at first, but you can tell he's solid. They sure seem to be in love with each other."

"Yeah. It's sweet, isn't it. I can really see them as a happy couple."

-----

I was still asleep the next morning when Mary Ellen came into the room and put a cup of coffee on the dresser.

"Here's some coffee if you want," she smiled. "Breakfast is almost ready."

She was already dressed. The sun was streaming in through the window. She looked for something in her bag. I had a morning erection, but it seemed rude not to get out of bed. She got a second chance to see me in my underwear, and she probably saw my erection too.

-----

"Attention, people," said Abby after breakfast. "In case you haven't heard, there's a wedding this afternoon. There are six couples, and only one bathroom. And I've got dibs from eleven o'clock on. So that leaves about twenty minutes per couple, starting now. Who's ready to go first? Chop, chop!"

Mary Ellen and I were third in line. This was one more thing that we would just have to make the best of.

"Can you take your shower in ten minutes?" she asked.

"Less," I said, "but I have to shave, too."

"Do you think you can shave while I take my shower, and then when I'm done you can take yours?"

We decided to get undressed in the bedroom to save time. She went first, then me, and then we waited in our towels until it was our turn for the shower. The bathroom was plenty big, with a window looking out over the fields and a claw-footed tub. I watched in the mirror as Mary Ellen stepped into it, adjusted the curtain, and reached out to put her towel on the rack.

She ran the water just briefly, then turned it off to lather up. I tried not to think about the fact that she was naked behind the curtain. By the time I'd finished shaving, she'd finished with her shower.

She opened the curtain again, and stepped out of the tub, wrapped in her towel. "Next," she smiled.

I got in. Now I was naked, and she was standing right outside the curtain, drying herself off I suppose. I turned on the water and concentrated on what I needed to do.

She went back to the room before I finished. When I got there, she was still in her towel, doing something in the mirror. I took my pants and shirt from the closet and got some clean briefs from my bag. I turned my back, pulled my briefs up under the towel, then put on my pants. I put on my shirt and moved over to tie my tie in the corner of the mirror. When I'd gotten it about right, Mary Ellen adjusted it for me.

"Now you can give me a hand," she said. She took her dress out of the closet and removed it from the plastic. She took off her towel. She was wearing panties, but nothing else. Her breasts were firm and perfect, with pert, rosy nipples. She was immediately unsure whether she should have let me see them.

She stepped into the gown, pulled it up, and fit her breasts into the cups. There were two long straps that had to be tied behind her neck. She held her hair out of the way and told me what to do.

-----

The ceremony was simple and touching. Abby was radiant. The reading was about the putting away of childish things, about love being patient and kind. The minister asked us to think about how much of what was good in our lives had sprung from the love and patience and kindness that flowed from our families. He charged us to help Abby and Tom make the new family that they were now starting a source of kindness and patience and goodness as well. Lynn was holding Vernon's hand in one hand, and she took mine in the other.

The reception was held in a barn a little ways out of town. It was rustic and simple, but, with its lofty spaces and its frank old beams, it was grander than many city ballrooms. There were about sixty guests in all, a pleasant crowd, but not so large that you didn't eventually get to know who everyone was.

If the role of the bridesmaid is to reflect the beauty of the bride and to magnify her graciousness, then I would have to say that Abby was well attended. Mary Ellen's smile never flagged, and while she was careful to never let it outshine Abby's, it never lost its freshness or its sincerity. One of a bridesmaid's accoutrements, of course, is her gallant escort. She took me with her as she visited with guests, and I did my best to make it clear that the woman who attended Abby was desirable and worthy of attention in her own right. As if there could have been any doubt.

After supper the band started up again. Mary Ellen was quite in demand on the dance floor. I danced with the bride and heard several stories about Mary Ellen's younger years. I danced with the lonely cousin and tried my best to act the dashing college man she saw in me. I danced with the older aunt and tried my best to see the coquettish beauty that she still saw whenever she looked in the mirror. I shot the breeze with a couple of the husbands taking a smoke break in the parking lot and was able to read the envy in their eyes.

I danced with Mary Ellen too, at least our fair share of times. I had never fully realized before that when you dance with a woman in a diaphanous gown, you are essentially holding her naked body in your arms. You feel the skin of her back, the smooth flexion of her musculature, the sensuous curves of her waist. She feels you feeling her. The two of you are complicit in this wanton, secret touching, right there on the dance floor, right in front of everyone.

The reception went on well into the evening. There was no alcohol, except perhaps a swig or two in the parking lot, but somehow the party did just fine without it, managing to establish and maintain a happy, animated conviviality. There was no doubt that Abby and Tom were properly celebrated.

-----

"Whew," Mary Ellen laughed as she sat down beside me. The cake had been eaten. The older aunt had caught the bouquet. Tom and Abby had driven off. The music had gotten slower and more poignant.

"Shall we take a little walk?" I suggested.

We walked out amidst the Chinese lanterns, then further, through the yard, past a row of blossoming apple trees, up to the edge of a plowed field. The fiddling from the barn was softened by distance and by the chirping of crickets. I put my jacket over her shoulders.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

She didn't answer for quite a while. The sky was full of stars, extending all the way down to the distant tree line. I'd forgotten there were so many stars, so many that they swamped the familiar constellations, making the sky look fresh and new.

"The future, I suppose," she said.

The moon cast faint, firefly-lit shadows over the furrows.

"Is it a happy one?"

She focused back to the present and to me. She smiled at the incongruity of the question. I wanted to say something witty and profound, but I held my tongue. She rested her head against my shoulder and looked back in the direction she'd been looking. I put my arm around her and tried to see if I could see it too.

-----

We drove back to the farm house in a cozy, cricket-filled silence. Someone had left the light on in the kitchen. We went upstairs. It was warmer than the night before. The moonlight shown in softly through the window. Mary Ellen stepped out of her shoes, then turned and held her hair for me to undo her gown. She took it off and hung it in the closet, her bare back bathed in silvery light.

She came from the closet. I put my arms around her. She let herself be held. We slow danced to the silent reverberations of the evening. She reached up and undid the buttons of my shirt, one by one. She pressed herself against my bare chest. Our dance had slowed to a mere sway.

She took a step toward her side of the bed. She slipped off her panties. She turned down the comforter. She lay down amidst the ruffled sheets, letting me see the soft darkness between her legs.

I undressed. I mounted the bed and crawled toward her. I touched my lips to the flawless curvature of her cheekbone. I touched them to the margins of her mouth, and she gently took my bottom lip between her own. I touched them to the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder, to the silvery bulge of her collar bone, to her blushing, perfect nipple.

She slid her hands along my sides, over my hips, down my thighs. I moved over her, letting my rigid penis drag along her hip. We kissed. I lowering my body gently to feel her chest against mine. She opened her legs for me. She took my penis and guided it to her vagina. I urged myself into her, into her cozy, slippery warmth.

"Oh," she murmured.

She was so beautiful! I tried my best to be the passionate, capable lover from the glossy magazines. She wrapped her legs around me. Before yesterday we had never been closer than a desk's length apart. Now our naked bodies were entwined, my stiff penis rooting her most intimate furrow, slick with her grease, thrumming with her friction.

"Oh," she whispered. "Oh. Oh."

-----

The next morning, I woke up first. Even in sleep, Mary Ellen was as lovely as a cover girl, as lovely as a bridesmaid. I had the guilty feeling that I had stolen away some of the bliss that should rightfully have been Abby's and Tom's on their wedding night. I said a little prayer for them.

I tried to work out what last night must have meant to Mary Ellen. Had we both just been overcome by the emotion of the evening? Would she have slept with the other boy, the one who had so mysteriously dropped out of the picture? She hadn't been a virgin, but then again, neither had I. I'd had a few sexual experiences, but not that many, and each one had been meaningful and special in its way. Shouldn't I at least assume the same about her? What had she seen in that starry future? Was there any place there for me?