Something Like Shame (BWWM)

Chapter 19

Seth fumbled with the last bit of footage and grinned, "Ready?"

I was dying to see it. Ricky, Linda, and I kneeled on the floor beneath him like school children waiting to be read a story. The room was still bustling with clinking glasses, shouts, and Ben was still singing that damned love song.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait for them to get quiet?" I asked.

"Ricky and Linda are theatre students. They can handle this part."

I squinted at him, confused.

"Excuse me!" Ricky rolled his shoulders and shimmied.

Linda curtsied and waved, "We have a little thanksgiving short for you ladies and gents-"

Ricky fanned himself, feigning disappointment, "If you're standing, don't be a prick. Find a seat and be quiet for the person next to you and, for the faint of heart, please be prepared because-"

Linda finished his sentence, "This film contains: gore, violence, nudity, and lots o' sex. And remember..."

In the back, I could see my Mom's face. Her eyes were wider than the plate in her hand, she was beyond mortified.

"You've been warned!" Ricky smiled and gestured to the screen's countdown.

Admittedly, they could've done a better job, but they definitely knew how to quiet a room.

Seth turned out the lights and moved to sit next to me.

The film, it was nothing less than adorable, nothing more than a series of universal heartwarming moments. A pair of hands, one withered and spotted, the other dimpled and small were clasped tight in an embrace; in the next scene, a group of kids in tattered clothing tumbled down a sand dune as the footage spattered and dimmed with yellow flakes; a pregnant woman rubbed her swollen stomach lovingly smiling up at someone behind the camera, presumably the father; then, it was more familiar with a clip from a wedding.
The couple danced and swung at a quick pace as the guests crowded around them clapping and cheering them on to the jazzy beat. It took me a while to realize that they were my parents.
As the song went on my Mom began to lag and lose her energy, dragging her feet as my Dad dragged her across the floor.

He loved to dance.

He was average in all respects, barely taller than my mother who was basically short. His hair was nonexistent and he had an oriental look about his eyes. The suit he wore to the wedding was nice but it wasn't the best suit I'd ever seen. It was what he could manage. He always did what he could manage, I could tell.

The videographer asked him, "What do you want to say to your new wife right now?"

"Honestly, I still can't believe she said yes and I want her to know that I'm so freakin' happy to know she's in this for the long-haul." He scoffed at himself and asked a passing partygoer, "Is that how I should describe a marriage? 'The long-haul'? Can we cut that part out?" The scene skipped forward, "What I'm trying to say is that I'm honored to have even the smallest piece of your heart reserved for myself, Shelley, and I can't wait to see what our future holds."

He smiled at that and I had to admit that it was sweetest smile I'd ever seen and this was the greatest gift I'd ever been given and I was grateful. Ricky and Linda sat shoulder to shoulder as they grinned right back at my Dad.

No doubt, my Mom's eyes were shining with tears. I didn't want to see them, though. The scene unfurling before me was so much better. He was my Dad and I could see it. He was so tangible in that moment, with us. Before this, he was simply a thought or an idea I reserved for dreams but this was what I needed. I needed what was palpable.

Next to me, Seth twined his fingers with mine and, albeit they were a tad clammy, I let him because this was more than enough.

The film ended with a scene of my Dad and me together when I was four. He lay on the couch as I slept quietly strewn across his chest. Every time he tried to move I would flail an arm or a leg until I was comfortable again and he'd go still, trapped, then he would share a quiet smile with my Mom who stood behind the camera.

My fingers tightened around Seth's then, like a jewelry box snapping to a close, the screen went black too soon but not without a quick flash of the credits which consisted of the words "A Flying Buttress Production" scrawled in black sharpie.

I sat there speechless. Behind me, there was a sob and I knew my Mom was crying hard now. She had every right.

"What do you think?" Seth stared down at our hands.

"It was..." I shook my head searching for words.

"My house has nothing but shelves and shelves of footage waiting to be seen. I can show you some day." He reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek. If he was anything, Seth was gentle and kind, "Whenever you'd like to see more, just come by..."

I nodded. The feeling was like a weight in my chest, so inconceivably heavy. I was overwhelmed with this sweet feeling.

Just over Seth's shoulder, I noticed a vacancy. Sebastian had gone some time during the film. He was waiting.