Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,58
abandoned and Sabrina was wiping everything down. Poles lined a long wall of mirrors.
Mirrors. Maybe Blake would consider doing some redecorating in our bedroom with mirrors. They were growing on me. First the jewelry store and now at the club. I hoped I wasn’t catching a fetish. But if I was, I’d throw in a pole for good measure.
“Well, Mr. Groom-to-be, are you satisfied with our dancer’s performance?”
I knew she was goading me, but what did I care? That was the best private dance of my life.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, I’ll call you a car while your pretty bride gets dressed.”
Our friends and family had left, which suited me just fine. It had been a great night. I was sure to get a lot of shit the next time I saw any of them. But the fuckers couldn’t say I was a dick who blew my cash on strippers. Hell, by my estimation, if Reggie was serious about the last part of the bet, I was about two grand up for the night. I planned on collecting, even though I’d gladly pay twice for a repeat performance anytime.
I wondered how much mirror and brass I could buy with that kind of money.
Blake’s parents had an early flight, and we were tired from the busy weekend. So we did what normal people do on Sunday afternoons. We ate too much food early and fell asleep watching a movie in bed. It was a really good life.
Days peeled by as the wedding crept closer and closer. I assumed shit-and-get time during wedding planning was when most men got cold feet. It was stressful, but it was nothing compared to the things we’d been through over the past few years.
We took a trip up to Seattle to see Dr. Rex, which was Blake’s idea. I was happy she still felt like she could talk to someone, other than me, and I’d become really fond of her myself. She and Blake Skyped once or twice a week, and sometimes Dr. Rex would ask if I could join—particularly when the night at Grant’s was discussed. But mostly it was more about Blake healing and identifying who was to blame.
Guilt was an ugly bitch and even though we slowly worked through it, there were times she struggled accepting what Grant did wasn’t her fault. It was his. No matter what she’d done in the past, his actions were unforgivable and evil.
Dr. Rex wasn’t easy on Blake either.
“What’s bothering you about the wedding vows?” she asked.
“Well, it’s not so much that I’m worried, it’s more like I want to give him everything he wants.” I was holding her hand that day as she explained how she was struggling with what to write. I knew it was because she’d already made promises to someone else and broken them. She was worried I thought she’d break ours too. Or maybe she was struggling because she didn’t want them to feel repeated. It made sense to me, but honeybee was stubborn.
“Well, why don’t you just find some non-traditional vows and say those? You don’t have to write your own,” she suggested.
“No. I want them to be personal,” Blake explained.
Dr. Rex tapped her pencil against her lips.
“I’ve got it. Casey, you write Blake's vows, and Blake, you write his. In the past, in my opinion, that was always your biggest hurdle. You never told each other what you wanted. This is an opportunity to do that.”
I liked the idea; she was a smart woman.
“I’m in,” I said. “But how do we know if they’re about the same, you know? Lengthwise.”
Blake gave my hand a little squeeze.
“Well, I suppose I could read them for you. Or Micah and Cory, aren’t they your matron of honor and best man?” Dr. Rex clapped her hands together decisively, excited by the concept. “That’s it. They can compare them for you. Oh, it’s so perfect. Then you both get exactly what you want. You’ll never have to second-guess that you didn’t promise vows that mean something to you.”
“And we don’t read them beforehand?” Blake inquired.
“No. It’s so romantic. The gesture of blindly promising what the other desires. It couldn’t be more perfect for you two.”
I was sold. Whatever she wanted, she could have. The look on my girl’s face said she was on board too.
“I kind of love that idea,” honeybee said. It was settled. We’d decide what promises we wanted to hear. Then we’d honor and keep them forever.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
IF CASEY THE HUSBAND was anything