Black Dress Wedding

Chapter 2

As the twisting and twirling of delighted wedding guests stirred around me, my mind slipped to, of all things, when I broke my arm. I was seven years old. Jake and I had been playing in his treehouse all day. We had grabbed all the snacks we could get our hands on and spent the time reading comic books as the leaves danced outside in the flickering breeze. I felt so cool hanging out with him. It was the first weekend of our 2-week stay at the Miller's place that summer. The following two weeks, Jake and Beth were coming to our house at the lake. Jake was telling me all the cool things we could find in the lake.

"Dinnertime," Beth called from the kitchen door.

Jake opened the trapdoor and let me go first, but I slipped on the second rung down. I recall Jake's face as I fell as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. It was slow-motion and etched in my mind. The panic registered immediately in his expression, but not for me. The fall that lasted only a split second seemed to linger for hours. His hand outstretched to me in urgent clutching.

As I fell, I thought to myself, 'it will be fine; Jake is here.' I was only partially correct; I broke my arm.

Beth was at my side first before Jake could even climb down. "Nifer, are you ok?" She was hovering, very un-Beth-like.

"Nifer, I'm so sorry. I should have gone first." There was pleading in Jake's voice.

I couldn't process all the panic, and then I realize... "My arm." But I didn't cry.

I always cried, but at the moment, I was too worried about Beth, my mom, my dad, Jake. And they were all worried about me. Jake sat in the backseat of the car with me. He gently put an arm around my shoulders as I leaned into him, cradling my arm in a makeshift sling Beth had made from a towel.

"It's ok to cry," he whispered.

"I can't," I whispered back. I looked up into his eyes and added, "it's ok for you to cry for me."

He looked like he wanted to, but he laughed a bit and pulled me closer to him at my suggestion.

That night, my parents let us bring all the blankets and pillows down to the living room and sleep in a fort all night. Jake had to do most of the building while I instructed from the couch. Once it was entirely formed, he helped me crawl in and prop up my arm. We watched all three Back to the Future movies as I nestled in next to him and the safety his proximity provided. It was the beginning of my movie nights with Jake. The beginning of too many Twizzlers and Cherry Cokes, inside jokes, and warm memories.

As I fell asleep next to Jake that night, I heard him whisper, "I will never let anything hurt you again," and I believed him.

I believed Jake when he told me it was okay to cry, and I believed Jake when he promised never to let anything hurt me. I still wanted to believe both as I tried to edge my way out of the celebrating crowd of his wedding. How had life spiraled so far out of control? How had I allowed Jake to slip so far away from me?

As though we were in the cool waters of Stone Lake, I felt the wave of another memory pulling me into its cold clutches.

Ten years old is old enough to want to hear adult conversations but too young to understand them. Unfortunately, at ten, you rarely realize what you are misunderstanding.

"I think my mom is trying to convince yours to buy Emerson's house!" I bounded excitedly down the basement stairs.

Twelve-year-old Jake stretched across the pull-out couch with a video game controller occupying his hands and attention. "No, we're not moving. Dad just accepted a big promotion. Mom is not happy about it."

"Why? Aren't promotions good?" I flopped down on the pull-out next to him and shoved too much Twizzler in my mouth, causing a gag that I failed to hide from Jake.