We had been waiting a long time for this morning. The explanations, the fights, the defensive reactions, the loving, the caring, the passion - the worth of it all could not be measured in material terms. Annette and I knew that come what might, this morning, and the event that lay ahead would change not just our lives, but the lives of every American, and in time, human society.
We had been making plans for two months. Annette's parents would attend, while I couldn't believe my luck - my ex-husband, Sam was coming. He had been pretty nice about it all - he even joked that he wouldn't mind giving his own wife away. When I told him that Annette and I were getting married, come May, he had laughed and said that we deserved it, especially after what he had put me through when I told him I loved another woman.
Our friends would be there of course. Many of them had ceremonies of their own to attend. We had planned a small celebration in the evening with Jack & his prospective spouse, a college professor from Illinois, who had moved to Cambridge five years ago. I knew Jack from my days with Sam, when Jack was the out-and-out gay in our group. I couldn't believe I had even joked about it. That was before I discovered my own feelings, and before I discovered Annette.
We were all good friends now. The last couple of years had been good all around. A lot of the old animosities had died down as the people who mattered in my life had come to accept my preferences. I could even go into the local public houses with Annette, and be served without a smirk from the regulars. Not that we didn't face some unpleasantries. In fact, since the judgment, some people who had earlier seemed non-committal came out against us. I didn't blame them, but I didn't expect them to understand.
We were going to the clerk's office, then straight to the courthouse to get a waiver on the traditional 3-day waiting period, and then back again for the actual civil ceremonies. I couldn't wait. I was wearing a dress that I had selected at Lord's. It was mauve silk, with a velvet lining. Annette was wearing a special dress her parents had got her. I hadn't seen it yet. Our friends were dressing her up. I had elected to dress myself. For some reason, I wanted to be alone this morning.
I wiped a tear and proceeded to the shower. I prepared myself for my bride. We had abstained from sex for a month now, promising to make it up to each other in the days and nights ahead. I felt a tingle run through my body as I imagined our life ahead. I let my fingers run down my belly and across my vagina, as I imagined Annette caressing me, a woman, a love and a wife. A smile crossed my face at that last thought.
I dried myself off, and got dressed. I was wearing pale blue garters and a matching set of underwear, white heels and stockings. Annette and I had visited a spa earlier this week, separately of course. The women at the spa had laughed and said they were twice as busy this wedding season. I could imagine - not a few people would be queuing at the courthouse in the weeks to come.
Once ready, I took a look at myself in the mirror. I saw a thirty-seven year old white blonde, 5'9", with a good body, if I said so myself. I took a deep breath and stepped out to face the brave new world.
I drove to the Cambridge Courthouse on Thorndike St. I smiled to myself, when I remembered that I had met Annette at the Galleria Mall, not far away. I was shopping for shoes when I met her. She had complimented me on my taste, and we had ended up having lunch together. I still don't know if she intended to seduce me, but in a week, I was driving to Beacon Hill for my first-ever infidelity and that too, with a woman. I had had the occasional flirtation before, but never anything serious. She had been a gentle lover, and taught me more than I imagined possible about the pleasures of the body, heart and soul.
As I drove on, I reminisced about that first time, when I truly became a woman, and when I found a new love. She had drawn me into her home, touching me by the fingertips. I followed, spellbound by this beautiful woman, who made me feel like a sixteen-year old again. She had handed me a slender glass of wine, and indicated the plush loveseat by the bay window. I settled in, looking up at her, and smiling. She remained standing, but moved closer and gently moved a few errant hairs off my forehead.