them on two napkins that read: This is the day I will marry my friend.
Holding the cake on a napkin in my left hand, I looked at Peter mischievously. “Ready?” I asked. Peter glanced at me, not trusting me. How I loved to tease.
In a slow motion, we brought cake toward each other, not trusting what one would do to the other. As soon as Peter opened his mouth to receive the cake, I smeared it all over his mouth. He returned the gesture.
And we laughed so hard.
Everyone raved about the cake after they were served. Inside was a rum filling the baker had promised would delight everyone.
“Rum?” I had asked when we discussed our order. I didn’t drink and didn’t want alcohol served during our wedding.
“You can’t taste it,” the baker had assured me.
“The alcohol will evaporate when it is being baked,” Peter explained.
“Trust me, everyone raves about this filling,” the baker added. “You won’t be disappointed.”
But I was.
Oddly, when it came to the cake, misfortunes continued. First, it was the extra touches to the icing. Then, the wedding knife was missing. And despite the ravings, I didn’t like the rum filling. Finally, several weeks later, the professional photographer regretfully informed us that the pictures of our cake exchange didn’t come through. Go figure.
Disappointments happen. Misfortunes occur. Life has its share of adversity, but, as long as we have true joy, they cannot dampen our spirit.
Chapter 36
May 1987
M y car slowed down as I turned onto his street. I knew where he lived. I knew what his house looked like. Directions were not needed. I had driven by his house once secretly just to get a glimpse.
It was mid-morning. His wife was at work. His children were at school. He would be going to work later that day. We didn’t have much time.
As I pulled into his driveway, I looked around to make sure nobody was outside. I didn’t want his neighbors to see me walk into the house. Turning the engine off, I paused for several seconds. It was now or never. After I got out of the car, I walked up to the front of his house and rang the doorbell.
He opened the door immediately.
“Are you sure you want to?” he asked the moment I stepped into his house.
“Yes.” I was determined to follow through.
Holding my hand, he led me through the hall toward his bedroom. I took in all the sights: Pictures of his children. The color of the painting on the wall. The bed where he slept with her every night. His personal belongings alongside hers on the dresser. And just about everything else I could lay my eyes on.
What I had envisioned as a beautiful, memorable moment was shattered. Our lovemaking had barely begun when it ended abruptly.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized afterward. “I couldn’t contain myself. I was just too excited. I hope it was worth it.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I enjoyed it.” I lied. What else could I have said?
As I drove away, I thought, So that was it? Why do people have such a preoccupation with sex?
Chapter 37
June 1987
M y return ticket was for August. There was no turning back.
Our plane flew out of Baltimore Washington International airport. My head rested against the window pane as I looked down, my eyes glued to the beautiful design of the land that came into view as we ascended, multiple shades of green laid out in a quilt-pattern slowly disappearing the higher we flew.
We had a four-hour layover in Atlanta because of heavy rainstorms. I was tired and hungry when we finally landed in San Antonio around midnight. Not many people were around because of the hour, and I easily spotted a stranger holding a sign that spelled out s.c.h.i. in large letters. As we proceeded to the baggage claim, I was told my suitcase had been misplaced. The following morning, I awoke groggily in the same clothes in which I had traveled. What a great way to begin my summer, I thought.
I had business to take care of, and it wasn’t long before I
Holding the cake on a napkin in my left hand, I looked at Peter mischievously. “Ready?” I asked. Peter glanced at me, not trusting me. How I loved to tease.
In a slow motion, we brought cake toward each other, not trusting what one would do to the other. As soon as Peter opened his mouth to receive the cake, I smeared it all over his mouth. He returned the gesture.
And we laughed so hard.
Everyone raved about the cake after they were served. Inside was a rum filling the baker had promised would delight everyone.
“Rum?” I had asked when we discussed our order. I didn’t drink and didn’t want alcohol served during our wedding.
“You can’t taste it,” the baker had assured me.
“The alcohol will evaporate when it is being baked,” Peter explained.
“Trust me, everyone raves about this filling,” the baker added. “You won’t be disappointed.”
But I was.
Oddly, when it came to the cake, misfortunes continued. First, it was the extra touches to the icing. Then, the wedding knife was missing. And despite the ravings, I didn’t like the rum filling. Finally, several weeks later, the professional photographer regretfully informed us that the pictures of our cake exchange didn’t come through. Go figure.
Disappointments happen. Misfortunes occur. Life has its share of adversity, but, as long as we have true joy, they cannot dampen our spirit.
Chapter 36
May 1987
M y car slowed down as I turned onto his street. I knew where he lived. I knew what his house looked like. Directions were not needed. I had driven by his house once secretly just to get a glimpse.
It was mid-morning. His wife was at work. His children were at school. He would be going to work later that day. We didn’t have much time.
As I pulled into his driveway, I looked around to make sure nobody was outside. I didn’t want his neighbors to see me walk into the house. Turning the engine off, I paused for several seconds. It was now or never. After I got out of the car, I walked up to the front of his house and rang the doorbell.
He opened the door immediately.
“Are you sure you want to?” he asked the moment I stepped into his house.
“Yes.” I was determined to follow through.
Holding my hand, he led me through the hall toward his bedroom. I took in all the sights: Pictures of his children. The color of the painting on the wall. The bed where he slept with her every night. His personal belongings alongside hers on the dresser. And just about everything else I could lay my eyes on.
What I had envisioned as a beautiful, memorable moment was shattered. Our lovemaking had barely begun when it ended abruptly.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized afterward. “I couldn’t contain myself. I was just too excited. I hope it was worth it.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I enjoyed it.” I lied. What else could I have said?
As I drove away, I thought, So that was it? Why do people have such a preoccupation with sex?
Chapter 37
June 1987
M y return ticket was for August. There was no turning back.
Our plane flew out of Baltimore Washington International airport. My head rested against the window pane as I looked down, my eyes glued to the beautiful design of the land that came into view as we ascended, multiple shades of green laid out in a quilt-pattern slowly disappearing the higher we flew.
We had a four-hour layover in Atlanta because of heavy rainstorms. I was tired and hungry when we finally landed in San Antonio around midnight. Not many people were around because of the hour, and I easily spotted a stranger holding a sign that spelled out s.c.h.i. in large letters. As we proceeded to the baggage claim, I was told my suitcase had been misplaced. The following morning, I awoke groggily in the same clothes in which I had traveled. What a great way to begin my summer, I thought.
I had business to take care of, and it wasn’t long before I
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