Chapter 2

Richie paced back and forth across the kitchen, pausing every so often to gaze out at the transformation taking place on the other side of the glass.  She had finally said yes and he had pushed for the quickest possible date so she couldn’t change her mind.   

Now it was all coming together and the day was finally here and he was nervous.  Not about getting married, he was more than ready to legalize their relationship.  Maybe worried was a better fit for how he was feeling.  He was worried that she may freak out and bolt before they got to the “I do’s.”

He made another pass across the kitchen.  She wouldn’t do that to him, would she?  He shook his head.  No, she wouldn’t leave him hanging at the altar.  He couldn’t believe that of her, but she had been acting a little distant in the last few days.  He couldn’t figure it out.  But then again, he’d had more on this mind this week than their pending nuptials too. 

He paused again in front of the French doors that would take him out to the patio and stared out, unseeingly, into the decorating madness.  Ava, his oldest, would be graduating and going off to the college all too soon.  Lily, his baby and the happy ray of sunshine in their lives was three and pre-school was just a hop, skip and jump away.  His babies were growing up and he was missing it.  His job kept pulling him away from his family. 

He loved his job, but there were times, oh were there times that he hated it too.  He never took for granted that he got to do what he loved every day and made a hell of a living doing it, but sometimes, sometimes he just wanted to say “fuck it all” and stuff the guitar in its case and leave it in the closet collecting dust while letting the dad in him take over fulltime for once.

Maybe it was time.  He continued to pace, letting the thoughts circle around his brain until he could figure out the best way to present this idea to one man in particular. 

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil.

He turned to find Jon behind him, sort of dressed for the day.  He was barefoot and had his suit pants and his dress shirt on, but the tails of the shirt were hanging out of the pants and just a couple of buttons were done up.  “You going to stand there mooning out the window all day or you going to get dressed?”

Richie glanced at the clock on the wall then back at his friend.  “I’ve got time yet.”  He hitched his chin toward Jon’s open shirt, “you forget how to button your shirt and coming to me for help?”

Jon chuckled “no, asshole.”  He looked over his shoulder behind him before returning his gaze to Richie, “too damn many females running around here, I was trying to put on a show for anyone.”  Jon had met Steph’s sister and sister-in-law and her girlfriends that had come for the wedding.  They were all fans and Jon, while he was mostly certain they wouldn’t attack him and leave him naked where he stood, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Richie smiled, “your safe here man, no one is going to jump you or rip your clothes off today.”  He paused, “unless Dot is like that, and if she is, I don’t really want to know.” 

Jon laughed.  “Fuck you.” 

“Nah, man, you are so not my type.”  Richie’s smile faded. 

Jon shook his head amusedly.  “You okay man, you’ve seemed distracted lately.”  He and Dorothea had only been there a couple days but, after living in each other’s pockets for more than three decades, he knew when something was on Rich’s mind.

Richie considered Jon for a moment.  He needed more time to think about the decision he was considering.  He didn’t want to hurt his friend before he absolutely had to.  And it would hurt, after 30 years of playing and writing side by side, this was going to rock both their worlds.  But he wasn’t quite ready to start that ball rolling.  So he did the only thing he could do at the moment.  He flat out lied to his friend. 

 “I’m good, just anxious to get this wedding business over with.”  He wagged his eyebrows at his friend, to ease the sting of the lie, “I want to get started on the honeymoon.”

Jon snickered, “of course you do.”  He sobered, “but seriously man, if you got something you want to talk about you know where I am.” 

“Thanks.”   Richie moved across the room, if he stood here talking to Jon much longer, beans would be spilled, the cat would fly out of the bag, pick your metaphor, the words would come out of his mouth before he was absolutely certain it was what he wanted.  “I’ve got some vows to write, but, really, thanks.”

Jon watched his friend walk out of the room.  Yeah, he thought as he headed back toward the room he was sharing with Dorothea, something was definitely off with his friend.

Closing himself in his office Richie set aside all thoughts of the changes that were on the horizon and focused his attention on his bride-to-be.  He dug a pad of paper and a pencil out of the desk and sat in the dark brown leather, wingback chair, propping his feet up on the ottoman.  

Staring out the window he thought of Stephanie, of how and when they met and all that they had been through that brought them to where they were now.  He tapped the pencil on the paper, picturing the two of them standing under the arbor that had been erected on the patio in front of their friends and family.  He could see himself taking her hands in his, see her witchy, mermaid eyes gazing up into his and he started to write.

YYYYYYYYYY

Stepping back into her room, Stephanie shut the door at the fading sound of her daughter’s laughter.  Her baby girl was clean, sweet smelling and ready for her pretty party dress.  Her sister had everything under control with the toddler again and Stephanie had managed to escape bath time with only a few water spots on her robe.  A minor miracle considering her daughter fancied herself to be a mermaid and liked to splash water everywhere.   That bathroom had to be the cleanest room in the house. 

She sighed and crossed the room the chair in the corner.  She needed to write her vows and, glancing at the clock, she was running out of time.  She was no songwriter or poet, or even a storyteller, but she would give it her best shot.   Nothing about this day was falling in line with what she considered traditional.  But, she picked up the notebook and pen and tried to put her feelings into words that were not too stilted and standard.

She gazed out the window, looking to the trees and sky for some sort of inspiration or direction, but in the end, it was Richie’s face she pictured as she put pen to paper and started to write.