The elevator doors opened and I hurried out. “That wasn’t really our first date.”
“Okay, how about this, you stripped down and went skinny-dipping with me five hours after you met me.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m charming.”
“You have an ego,” I said as I slipped the key card into the door and pushed it open.
“I like it when you’re a tease.”
I flipped on the lights as the door closed behind Jamie. I threw my purse and coat on a chair and put my hand on my hip. “Okay, then I’ll be a tease more often.”
“I’m lying, I don’t really like it when you’re a tease. Now, get naked,” he said as he tore his clothes off.
I obliged.
We were still naked in the morning, with the covers pulled all the way up to our necks. We were lying on our sides, facing each other and smiling like two lovesick kids. “You know what I find entertaining?”
“Tell me.”
He scowled and then spoke in a deep, steely voice. “Watching you squirm.” He laughed maniacally and then sunk beneath the sheets.
“You will not tickle me!” I protested.
He turned me forcefully so that I was lying flat on my stomach, and then he bit my butt.
“Ouch!”
From under the covers, I heard him mumble, “Oh sorry, baby.” He tore the sheets away and then grabbed my arms and forced them above my head. The light from the window was blaring across the bed. He didn’t move for several seconds, he just hovered, holding my hands tight. My face was resting sideways on the pillow so I could just barely see him in my peripheral vision. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, but what are you doing?”
“Looking at you.”
“Looking at my ass?”
“All of you. Your shoulders and your hair sweeping across your back. I’m looking at your breast pressed against the bed.” He paused. “I’m going to lick that soon, just so you know.”
I giggled into the pillow. “I’m starting to feel a little vulnerable and self-conscious here.”
“Why? You’re beautiful, Kate. You have a beautiful body,” he said seriously, and then laughed. “And a really nice ass.” He bit my butt again.
“Stop! You’re making me crazy.”
“Am I? I’m just looking at you, at what’s mine.”
“Listen, sailor, you don’t own me. I’m not yours.”
“You’re right, I don’t own you.” He bent, still hovering, but his mouth came close to my ear. “I never want to own you, but you are mine. You’re mine to love as long as you’ll let me.” He released my arms and then turned me onto my back. Smiling, he said, “Can I kiss you now?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer.
• • •
It was sunny the day we reached the winery. We were greeted by Susan and Guillermo and a very excited Chelsea. I learned that Susan had already begun planning the wedding and making travel arrangements for my family and friends in Chicago. She really was like a mother to Jamie, someone I felt would always be a large part of our lives. Her children were grown, and although she often laid on a thick layer of tough love, I knew underneath it she was a soft, loving, and warm person who put a lot of value on family.
We settled into our life in the barn. Jamie said we should stop calling it the barn and start calling it our home. I loved him for that spirit. He built me a writing loft inside of it with a window that looked out onto the vineyard. I spent most of my days up there writing, and sometimes I would look out and feel like my life couldn’t possibly be real. I would sit up there and watch Jamie interacting with the other workers or operating some huge machine or just standing out among the sea of vines, staring up at the sky and marveling at his own life, the same way I did.
Just Bob had sent me on a bit of a journey that year, and I didn’t blame him for making me think I should be closed off to love. I thanked him for showing me the contrast. It’s hard to know how green the grass is if you’ve never been on the other side of the fence. That’s the whole point, right? Sometimes I think that if I were preaching on the L to me from a year ago, I would simply say, “Live your fucking life, Kate, and let yourself be open to love.” But then I realize that’s not the kind of advice people understand and take. Everyone thinks they’re living their life.
This is what I would really say: “Leave your life. Leave everyone you love, every care, every stress, every commitment. Live alone. Understand what it feels like to know that if you go into cardiac arrest, choke on a piece of hot dog, or get electrocuted, no one will find you. You’ll rot. No one will mourn you. Imagine this feeling haunting your thoughts for the rest of your life. You’ll wither and vanish, and some stranger will take care of your things and your burial, and you may not even get a placard. Imagine that, live it, and let yourself believe that you should be alone, and then go back to the people who love you.” That is what I would preach. That is the challenge I would present. Gratitude is the quality of being thankful and the readiness to show appreciation in return. On my journey, I learned what it felt like to live. To live is to be grateful.
• • •
The sky was cloudless and more beautiful than usual on the day of our wedding. Jamie looked gorgeous in a black vest over a white dress shirt. I watched him standing under an iron arch, waiting for the ceremony to begin. I was hidden behind the massive tent set up for our reception, but could see through an opening that the seats on both sides of the aisle were filling up. We didn’t have a wedding party, but we had invited all of the greatest people we knew. Susan, Guillermo, Chef Mark, and their families were there. On my side were all my new siblings and their significant others. Even my newly acquired grandparents and stepmother were there. I spotted Jerry and Beth and smiled really wide when I saw Dylan and Ashley take a seat.
I watched Jamie for several moments. Sometimes you can learn even more about someone by watching them from afar. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his hair was tousled messily. He was absolutely adorable, smiling at all of the guests. I could see the excitement coursing through him, and I could tell that he was touched by how many guests had come all that way to California for us.
The ceremony was to be a casual affair at dusk, that magical hour when the sun tucks itself behind the hills but the sky still glows steadily. I left my hair down in soft waves against my back. My veil was attached to a wreath made of wildflowers, and my bouquet was a bunched-up cluster of daisies and poppies. I wore a vintage white lace and satin dress and very natural makeup. I wanted to marry Jamie purely, as we were, the way we saw each other.
“There are a few things I need to say before I walk you down that aisle.”
I turned to see Paul, my father, looking dashing as ever in his black suit. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, sweetheart. First of all, Jamie is a lucky man. You’re beautiful and smart and you deserve to be cherished for the rest of your life. If you don’t think with a hundred percent certainty that Jamie will be able to do that, then I will bust you out of here in ten seconds flat. Just say the words. There’s still time,” he said in the most pragmatic tone.
We both laughed. “I’m sure, Dad.”
“Okay, fine. The next thing is that if you don’t know with one hundred percent certainty that you will be head-over-heels in love with Jamie forever and a day, then I will do the same—I will bust you out of here. That’s my job, if the need arises.”
“You won’t need to do that. I know what Jamie and I have.”
He nodded. “Okay, now, as for you and me, I want to make a promise to you that I will be here for you, no matter what, until the day I die. Even though you met your husband before your father, it doesn’t mean that you’re not still my baby, and I would do anything to protect you.”