Tessie D

Angel and I went out for a walk again today at lunch. 

“Let’s go down to the county clerk’s office tomorrow at lunch. We’ll file for our marriage license and schedule our appointment with the judge. You’re okay with nothing fancy, right? I don’t want a big deal. It can be just you and me. We’re the only two that matter anyway.”

I suppose I’d figured that after Baby, I wouldn’t have a traditional wedding with the white dress, flower arrangements, and giant cake.  Girls like me–who have the babies first—don’t get the bridal showers and big wedding receptions later. The celebration is the reward for her respectability. Girls like me have quiet, intimate ceremonies. Otherwise, we’re just rewarding girls for doing it in the wrong order. 

But the disappointment gnawed at me a bit. I feel cheated of an experience that everyone else gets to have and that I’d always wanted. I’d never imagined getting married as a little girl at the courthouse in a simple dress without Momma, Daddy, or Annie there. I want to be happy that I’m getting married and celebrate it with everyone. I want to feel beautiful and loved. 

A moment later, a large pick-up with a gooseneck trailer hauling round bales drove past us, barely slowing down and kicking up caliche dust and pebbles in its wake. I fanned the air in front of me and coughed. The driver was working, hardly thinking about the two of us out for a midday walk. The driver was moving hay from one part of Texas to another and beyond. He didn’t know anything about us, and we didn’t know anything about him. 

We could do whatever we wanted. His opinions about us don’t matter. In the end, I love Angel, and maybe none of that matters as long as we’re getting married and that we’re together. He is kind and thoughtful, and he loves me entirely and wholly. We can have a beautiful family with children who have his dark eyes and my curly hair. We’ll tell everyone when they ask that we didn’t need a big wedding because we just wanted each other and were excited to start our lives together. And it’ll be true.