No More No More

The Flower Guy

They did a few dates in December, just in the States and one in Canada.  I stayed home, getting used to the pain.  Even without the drugs–which Joe convinced me to stop doing for just a few nights–the pain was subsiding.  Naturally, as soon as they left, I was right back on them, maybe worse than before.  I just wanted to forget everything, so I tried.  I pretty sure that if I didn't have constant babysitters, I probably wouldn't be here right now.

        My mom helped me get my mind off things by taking me out to look at wedding dresses.  She basically started planning my wedding without me even knowing it.  She got me to give guest lists, bridesmaids (Terry, Julia, Janet), everything–even a potential vow!  I didn't even know I was doing it.  We rang in the New Year with a quiet little party.  I still wasn't that into having a good time yet, but... Reasonably so.  In fact, I stayed pretty quiet and to myself throughout the whole night.  Of course, the drugs helped with that.

        Joe had promised me: "Some day, I promise you, you will hold a baby in your arms.  And it will be our baby."

        On the date of January third, Joe informed me we were getting married.  "Yes, I know," I said.  I had gone back to talking regularly.  We were still working on the eating part.

        "No, like, on Monday," he said with a little smile.

        "That's a week from now!" I said, a hint of a smile playing at my lips for the first time in a while.  "Are you serious?"  He nodded.  "But, but, I don't have anything planned!  We haven't planned anything at all!"

        Joe grins.  "Yes, you have," he says.  "You and your mom, all this time while we were touring, figured it all out."

        "Oh, I guess we did..." I said slowly, remembering the days while I slowly formed a sort of closure.

        "Are you ready?" he asked me.  I nodded with a little smile.  "There it is," he said, smiling back.  I looked at him in confusion.  "Your smile," he explained, "I haven't seen it in forever; it's been too long."  I give a little halfhearted one, thinking about why I haven't been smiling.  "And that's not gonna cut it!"  And then he started tickling my ribs and I started laughing until there were tears streaming from my eyes.  Tears of laughter, not sadness.  And then we kissed with a force a haven't felt in a very long time.

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January 10, 1977

"Baby, baby, baby," Joe said quietly, kissing me between each word.  "Guess what day it is?" he asked when I finally opened an eye.

        I could've started describing the wedding day on the night of the eighth, but I don't remember the party (Joe either doesn't remember his or doesn't want to tell me about it), so here we are, wedding day!

        I smile.  "I dunno," I say sarcastically.

        He moved so that he was kneeling over top me.  "I love you," he said, kissing me before rolling off me and rushing away.

        "Love you more," I argue.

       "Doubt it!" he calls from the kitchen.  I come up behind him, wrapping my arms around him and placing my chin on his shoulder.  He spins me around so that we're facing each other.  He eyes me up and down, looking ashamed.  "You need to get ready," he said, clicking his tongue, "there's no way all of this is gonna come together in enough time to make you look positively..." he pauses, thinking of the right word.  I wait with my arms folded.  "Positively alluring," he says.