I wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled myself together immediately. I vowed that I would never let him see me fall apart again. I would make it through this rehearsal, fulfill my duties as a bridesmaid and best friend and return home with my dignity intact.
Nichelle and I had been best friends since we met our freshman year in college. She was the only one I kept in touch with from our crew. I was the odd girl out after Alex and I broke off our own engagement. No one picked sides. I just peacefully bowed out.
Alex and I were only broken up for a week when he showed up at Nichelle's parents farm for their annual Memorial Day cookout with a woman who looked like she could have been my sister on his arm. To think I had been such a fool thinking that I would see him and maybe we could work things out.
The moment I saw Alex with that woman the tears started falling and I stormed off like a spoiled child. Humiliated I left the cookout, drove home and vowed that I would never let him see me cry again.
When I walked into the church tonight, for Nichelle's wedding rehearsal, and saw Alex I felt that all too familiar knot in my stomach. Damn, after all these years he could still make me feel like a nervous little girl. After years of avoiding one another we were together again. Nichelle, my best friend, and Rob, Alex's best friend and frat brother were getting married. There was no way I could refuse to be Nichelle's maid of honor though I knew Alex would be the best man.
Somehow I made it through the rehearsal, said my good nights and decided to turn in early. Mrs. Noyes, Nichelle's mother, had given me the small guest house. She knew I was estranged from the crew and did not want me to feel uncomfortable.
A hot shower was calling my name and I could not wait to get out of my clothes. In the bathroom I stripped and stopped to take a minute to look at my body in the mirror. My 38DDs stood attention, partly because of the cool air from the AC and mostly because of my grueling six day a week workout. I was a perfect size ten with all my curves in the right place.
When I met Alex I was a skinny pole. He introduced me to weight training and the workout he gave me on the mattress helped to nicely spread out what he built up in the gym. When I started filling out my sophomore year he would smack my ass, laugh and teasingly say I was the brick house that he built.
Tears started to roll down my face. I remembered the first time my mother met Alex. She had come into town and was working on a campus committee with her sorority to honor one of the retiring professors that taught at the university for fifty years.
When my mother saw me I could tell from the look on her face she knew I was not a little girl anymore. She immediately despised Alex. This set the stage for my father to hate him, but for my dad it was personal.
My father was born and raised in the Dominican Republic. He moved to the States in the 60's, first to Florida and then to Alabama to attend college on a baseball scholarship. It was in Alabama where he would meet my mother, a Black woman from Chicago, and give up baseball to become an engineer.
In the Dominican Republic there was racial prejudice but nothing like what my father encountered in the States. He became active in the Civil Rights Movement and wholeheartedly embraced Black American culture. He soon began to distance himself from his fair skinned countrymen who were on their own missions to assimilate.
When my mother returned home and told my father that I had taken up with a "pale faced conquistador," as Alex jokingly began to call himself, from his homeland he was not happy and the next few years of my life became a living hell. The sad thing about it was that if my father would have gotten to know Alex, he could have seen why I fell so completely in love with him after only dating him for three months.
That night I cried in the shower for at least an hour. I kept reminding myself that this weekend was about Nichelle and Rob. I had to push my feelings aside and power through the next twenty four hours.
When I came out of the bathroom there was a plate of assorted fruit and a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket on the dresser in the bedroom. I smiled and thanked God for Mrs. Noyes. She knew I was hungry and thought of me. I would eat a little and go straight to bed.
The wedding the next day was beautiful. Nichelle looked radiant in her sweetheart white silk taffeta gown with ten foot hand beaded train. There was not a dry eye in the house when Rob proudly recited the vows he had written to her.
I managed to civilly walk down the aisle, dance one dance and take a picture with Alex.
As the reception began to wind down Rob told me he had hidden a small gift for Nichelle in the guest house dresser and asked if I could go get it before they left for the hotel.
I gathered the bottom of my red bridesmaid gown and made a mad dash to the guest house. I frantically searched through the dresser drawers but could not find anything. Maybe he put it in the china cabinet.
When I ran out of the room on my way to the dining area I ran into Alex.
"Sorry Rob sent me out here to get Nichelle's gift."
Alex did not move. He just stood there towering over me with his 6'4 frame over my five feet.
"I already got it for him.
