She loved him—everything about him. She liked how his tan made his teeth seem stark white, the way he always sent presents, cards and flowers for no special reason. The way he always knew what she was thinking. In fact, they often said the same thing at the same time. They were perfect for each other.
We’re getting married and I’ll never be lonely again. We’ll never be apart.
Glen’s eyes scanned the houses along the street. Pretty nice, considering it’s such a tiny town, he thought. He glanced at the address on the piece of paper he held—234 Sunshine Street. Glen muttered the numbers and looked over at his buddy driving the car. Manfred Simmons, or Manny, as he preferred being called, liked fast cars and even faster women, but he and Glen usually got along well and had been friends for years.
“Do you see her house?” Manny asked.
“We want 234. The evens are on your side.” Glen saw the number and yelled, “Stop! There it is. I recognize her car.” Glen pointed out the car window for his friend to see.
The Cadillac skidded to a stop and left black tire marks about eight feet long on the street. Manny often boasted that he’d never been passed by any car and only two trains. The motor of the car had been souped up and it could move.
“Back up,” Glen said.
Manny put the car in reverse and stopped in front of Brenda’s house.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Manny said, looking around.
The ranch style house bore a fresh coat of white paint on the wooden shingles and an antique red swing hung from the porch ceiling swayed in the breeze. A garden full of red and pink flowers decorated the front yard. In its center was a very large stone birdbath with a long crack in it, so it held almost no water. “She definitely needs a handyman around here. I can fix that like new,” Glen murmured.
He reached in the back seat and tugged the tuxedo hanger. The plastic wrapping was caught on the car’s garment hook and he was having trouble getting it loose.
“Thanks for the ride,” Glen said, finally ripping the plastic free. “Just be back at five-thirty sharp so you’re early for the ceremony, Manfred.”
“Don’t call me that! Nobody calls me that but my mother.”
“Sorry,” Glen said. Usually, he would have told Manny where to go, but he didn’t want to get into a hassle and provoke his friend’s quick temper. Not today. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Manny. I’m just a little nervous,” Glen said, and pulled up on the door’s handle.
“Nervous about what? Maybe you’re afraid your big score won’t go down,” Manny winked.
“What are you talking about? There’s no score here,” Glen said, trying to assure him. “I’m a changed man. I’m marrying Brenda because I love her. That’s all there is to it,” Glen said, darting him a You don’t know what you’re talking about look.
Manny grinned. “Just wanted to be sure you’re sure.”
When Glen didn’t say anything, Manny continued. “Remember you and I have a rich history.” He slurred the last words, toying with Glen. His friend looked at him.
“Would you stop razzing me. I’m nervous enough.” Glen slammed the door behind him. “Dammit! You may be my best friend, but you can be a pain.” With the tuxedo slung over his shoulder, Glen walked up the sidewalk to the front of the house. He didn’t turn back, but heard the sound of the Cadillac’s revved-up motor racing away.
The doorbell startled Brenda and the dogs in the backyard started a cacophony of barking. She took a calming breath, put her hand to her mouth and blew into it to check her breath. It smelled okay. She straightened her shoulders, put on an air of confidence and went to open the front door.
Taped to the back of the door was a ‘to-do’ list. Brenda scanned it: flowers, balloons, wine and champagne, wedding cake and rice. She hoped she had remembered everything. She snatched the list off the door, wadded the paper up and hid it discreetly behind a vase on a nearby table. She grasped the brass door handle. It felt cool from the air-conditioning and she wondered if she had the thermostat too low. Then she realized that she was running hot because of her racing heartbeat.
Brenda paused briefly to steady herself, then opened the door. Framed in the doorway and glowing in the afternoon sun was Glen. His handsome, chiseled features, emphasized by a mustache and dark brown eyes, contrasted nicely with his light brown, wavy hair. What a perfect man, Brenda thought and sighed. She doubted that he knew just what a hunk he was, because he often seemed shy and unsure of himself.
He offered her a skittish smile and said, “You look beautiful.” He paused a moment looking at her, then went on, “Are we really doing this?”
Brenda flung her arms around him and shouted “yes.” Startled by the sudden gesture, Glen stepped backward, taking her with him, but she didn’t care. She was too excited. He took control of the moment, raised her chin and kissed her gently on the lips as she closed her eyes. It was odd, she thought, how he always knew just the right thing to do to calm her fidgetiness.
The heavenly kiss sent her soaring. When Glen broke away, she opened her eyes and he stood back staring at her. She saw the stain of her lipstick on his face. It reminded her of a Picasso painting. He looked funny and she giggled.
“I guess you better get in here, before we give the whole neighborhood something to talk about,” she said and gave him a little tug.
Glen stepped inside the house. He stood in one spot as if glued to the floor and scanned the room. He had never been to her house before. He had been living in Kansas City and since she worked there, they had always met at his place.
Suddenly, Brenda realized it was all strange to him.
“This is home,” she told him and looped her arm through his.
Brenda looked around the house, trying to see it through Glen’s eyes as she led him into the living room. Things she had never thought about before, she suddenly realized, had her personality stamped all over them. One whole wall held a mahogany bookcase filled with her books, her porcelain doll collection and the glass incense burners that wafted her favorite vanilla aroma into the room. In one corner stood a pink wrought iron birdcage and the exotic blue parrot in the cage squawked at Glen. Even he knew Glen was a stranger to this house.
Brenda hadn’t realized before how feminine the place was until she looked around now. Suddenly, she saw through a man’s eyes her delicate figurines—mostly of animal figures—scattered around the room and the canopy of flowering plants that hung from the ceiling. Each plant’s perfume saturated her nostrils as she walked under them.
When Glen reached up and felt a leafy fern, she said, “It’s real.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.
“You might have thought it was silk.”
“What? Silk comes from worms, not flowers,” he said.
“I’ll explain later.” Glen seems more nervous than I am. I never thought about the groom having last-minute jitters. I need to think of something to help him relax.
He took her hands in his and looked in her eyes. “Brenda,
