Zenith
Amanda emptied the remnants of the bottle over the ice cubes in her glass and jiggled them. She popped a CD into her player and let the music melt her bunched muscles as the vodka in the chilled glass gradually froze her fingers.
“Music and drink, the finer things to block my…think,” she hummed to herself, testing the lyrics. “Forget the sound of baby's voice; I prefer my drink on ice.” She pulled a sheet of beige paper from a wooden box to write it down. “I like it.”
Her glass was empty by the time she'd fixed the lyrics to the page.
“What have you been smoking?” Yuki growled.
Lorona hadn't bothered to knock. She'd burst into Yuki's room, crawled straight under the blanket, and stuck her cold hands on Yuki's back. It was a small payback for all the times her roommate had stumbled into the apartment late, singing operatically in Japanese.
“Smell my breath. No smoke.” Lorona exhaled generously over Yuki's nose and received a faceful of pillow.
“Get back or I'll scalp you,” Yuki vowed. “What the heck is wrong with you? What time is it?”
“I guess it could have waited till morning…I'm only getting married!”
Yuki groaned again. “That's what I thought you said.”
“Do you know where I can get a cheap white dress?”
Yuki slapped her own face and groaned. “As I'd feared. I'm definitely awake.”
Lorona leapt to her feet, taking Yuki's blanket with her. She twirled it on her shoulders. “A bridal boutique would be too expensive. How about a white prom dress? I could afford that.”
“You could afford a reality check. I'm making some coffee.”
Lorona grinned for a full minute, not touching her coffee as Yuki's steady stream of expletives underlined her surprise. The happy-go-lucky, try-it-if-you-like-it, friend had shrunk into the red-eyed woman who was gulping her mug of java as if her sanity depended on it. “If you're going to go marry Kestrin Feather,” Yuki finally punctuated her rant. “Then why didn't you tell me you liked him?”
“I like surprises. I mean, I was surprised, too, when he asked me.”
“But you said yes!”
“There wasn't any other answer in me.”
“You are unbelievable. Crazy! Do you hear me? So help me! If I didn't love you so much I'd—”
“I have a question for you.”
Yuki paled for a moment. She swallowed. “What?”
“Will you be my maid of honor?”
“I'm not asking for your blessing, I just want you to know.” Kestrin regretted the phone call already. He could hear his mother shaking her drink glass with ice cubes like it was an irritated maraca.
“You can't do this so quickly!” she pleaded.
“I had a dream and she was in it. This one was real.”
“But I can't let you. You'll ruin everything for yourself. Think of your father and me.”
“I'm not anything like Dad.”
“No, you're just like me. This will break you!”
“I'm hanging up now.”
“Well that sounds like that went well,” Kahlil commented from the aisle across from him. He held up two white dress shirts and waited for Kestrin's opinion. “I assume she's not invited to the ceremony?”
Kestrin sighed, dismissed the shirt options and leaned against a shelf of shirts and slacks. “I feel like I'm declaring war on some invisible army, but I have to do it.”
“What army?” Kahlil asked.
Kestrin shrugged.
“Your lady friends?”
“Nah. They'll get over it.”
“Your mom?”
Kestrin didn't want to go there. “Never mind.” He rubbed his necklace again.
“Wait.” Kahlil caught his arm and hung on, his face tightening into a grimace. “Don't do something you know is wrong. She doesn't deserve a man who isn't sure he wants to marry her.”
“That's the only thing I am sure about.”
“Can I ask you something?” Kahlil said, his eyes still roving the racks of clothes.
“Fire away.”
“What makes you so sure she's different? I mean, to the untrained eye, this looks like you're just trying to ruffle your mom's feathers.”
“I'd never let her influence me into something like this. I'm getting married, man. This is serious stuff.”
Kahlil nodded. “I know. It's a big deal. I just want to be sure that you're serious. From what you tell me, this girl is a sheltered bookworm whiz kid and you're, well, you know what you are.”
“I'm not good enough for her. That's what you're saying.”
“Kest, I'd never….”
“You're thinking it.”
Kahlil examined the sizes on the collar tags of several shirts. After an uncomfortable pause, he said, “I'm going to support you in all of this. I've kept my comments to myself for almost all of your girls, but you're promising to marry this one, and I think she deserves some guarantees.”
“Like what? I'll do anything for her. I know we're meant to be.”
“And when you wake up tomorrow and see another hot chick at work? The fire has to stay in the fireplace now.”
Kestrin glared at him. “I've thought about that. It's Lorona and only Lorona from now on.”
“That's going to be tough.”
“She's worth it.”
“You're placing a lot of faith in your dreams.”
“And I haven't even been able to tell her about the real one. Man, you have no idea how much I want to read it to her, but it's gone. I've looked everywhere. I really think this is a test of faith. And I'm going through with it.” Kestrin closed his eyes and drew in a huge breath. “You haven't met her yet, but I swear on my life, I've never been more sure. She's the one for me.”
Kahlil made eye contact. “Now that really is something different.” He smiled. “I never thought I'd see this day.”
Wedding supplies consisted of white roses, a simple, white, full-length dress with beaded straps, neckline, and hem, purchased at Goodwill, a pair of white Mary Janes from two springs ago, and a pearl necklace inherited from Lorona's grandmother. At Macy's they purchased elbow length lace gloves and some lingerie. Lorona usually worked Sundays and took Mondays off, so she didn't even need vacation permission from Margie, which was nice. As excited and certain as she felt, she still didn't want to spread the news more than absolutely necessary.
Yuki used every product in the bathroom cabinet to scent, smooth, and sculpt Lorona's hair into an upswept twist with curls that spilled over the top. Lorona glossed her toes and fingers with clear nail polish, dabbed a streak of sparkles over her eyes, which reminded her of shooting stars, and studied her reflection.
She laughed when she looked around their small apartment bathroom. Every horizontal surface was covered with hair pins, cans of mousse, tubes of gel, bottles of perfume, lotions, cosmetics, combs, and bits of jewelry and ribbon. “I never thought it would happen this way.”
Mouth full of bobby pins, Yuki mumbled, “How long do you really think this is going to last? A month? Five months?”
“My dad didn't raise me like that. This marriage is forever.” If Lorona hadn't been the laughing girl in the white dress, an observer might have thought Yuki was the nervous bride, with her chewed lips and flushed face.
Lorona had informed Yuki of the slim guest invite list. “You're not inviting any family?” Yuki gasped as she arranged Lorona's hair.
“I thought you had no faith in this marriage anyway, so it's better that it's not a huge hullabaloo, right?”
“And to think I'd wanted you to date him, not marry him on next-day-air.”
“Yuke…”
Yuki knelt in front of her and pulled the bobby pins out of her mouth. “Promise that you'll leave him if it gets bad.”
Lorona shook her head. “That's not how it works.”
“Stop moving! You're messing up the pins!”
“Sorry.”
“And why now? Why do you have to get married right now?”
“It feels like what we're supposed to do.”
“That still doesn't explain why this has to be so fast.”
“When you know there's a path in front of you and you don't take it, it's like saying ‘no’ to the opportunity. That's why it has to be now.”
Yuki stared hard at Lorona in the mirror. “Since when did you become an expert in this philosophical stuff?”
“Since the moment I listened to more than my brain.”
“You want to know what organ Kestrin is using to think?”
“That's enough.”
They spent the morning after the proposal hunting for supplies and getting ready. In the afternoon, Kestrin called Lorona to tell her the location for the ceremony.
Lorona had composed a lengthy text message on the car ride over. It explained to her father how she'd followed the trail of ninety percent of humanity and was getting married. But she couldn't send it. Instead, she dialed his number and tried to steel herself against the melting sensation in her stomach. Her father's solitude after the divorce had made her believe all weddings made him sad, not to mention the spontaneous union of his only child to a man he'd never met. There were a million reasons, most of them fear, that pleaded with Lorona to hang up the phone before he could answer, but it mercifully went through to voicemail. Lorona left a message with the basic details, promised to explain more later, kissed into the mouthpiece, and hung up, feeling vindicated but jittery for the first time.
Better to ask forgiveness than permission. She told herself, trying to subdue the flutter of anxiety. As she looked out the window at the north rim of Green Lake, the wings inside her chest beat harder, threatening to lift her body and crush her against the car roof.
“It's just me and someone else as witnesses?” Yuki asked as they climbed out of the car. She dove to save Lorona's hem from a mud bank and darted suspicious glances around as if this was a shady rendezvous and she was worried she might be mugged. The sun was tingeing the tops of the trees with orange.
“Pure and simple,” Lorona replied. “It'll be great.”
By the time they joined Kestrin, Yuki looked ill. She wore a blue silk dress with a white sash, and stood almost visibly shaking, as Kestrin beamed at Lorona in her gown. He spread his arms to embrace their outdoor cathedral. Behind him stood a giant row of poplar trees that fluttered bright green leaves like festive pennants.
Kestrin's companions were a justice of the peace, dressed in a plain business suit, who stood with his back turned, studying the sunset beyond the lake, and another man, Kestrin's age, who seemed just as distressed as Yuki, if not more. This was Kahlil, Kestrin's best friend, a tall man with a kind face, black shiny hair, and bronze skin. He looked the perfect counterpart to the blond Kestrin who stood beside him, rocking from toe to heel in anticipation.
Both groom and best man wore dark slacks and long-sleeved white shirts of a loose cotton material that opened in a V at the throat. Before they were properly introduced, Yuki identified Kahlil as the other witness and flung her arms around his neck and started to wail and shout incoherent things. It wasn't a joke. It was Yuki's way of handling overwhelming situations and Kahlil seemed the most sympathetic of the entourage. When she'd finished, she wiped her nose and asked him his name, offering to shake hands.
Kahlil pulled back from Yuki and eyed Lorona's bunch of white roses. “You're just as willing as he is to go through with this, aren't you?”
Lorona separated a rose from the bouquet, snapped off the stem, and tucked it behind her ear. “Absolutely.”
Yuki reached out and squeezed Kahlil's hand, and although Kahlil was very handsome, Lorona knew for once that her mind wasn't pinned to an attractive man: Yuki's eyes clearly indicated she was too distraught for any thought of flirtation.
Kestrin stepped across the small distance of grass between them, his face close to Lorona's so that she could feel the warmth of his body without touching him. She lingered there for a moment, then stepped to the side and addressed Yuki and Kahlil.
“You want to know why we're going through with this? When I look in the mirror and someone looks back at me, I know it's me. When Kestrin asked me to marry him, my answer was as certain as knowing my own reflection. If I said anything different, it would have been like looking at my own head and saying I had straight brown hair. I don't. This is what is.”
Yuki groaned.
“Look at me.” Lorona took Yuki by the shoulders. “I've lived my whole life wishing for a wonderful love story and wondering what something like this would be like.” Her voice dropped to a hush. “Now I'm on the verge of one and I need to you help me.”
Yuki nodded, unable to speak.
The justice ambled towards their cluster of four, his gait communicating his ease with the entire odd arrangement.
Kahlil squinted at Lorona's pearls, then gestured at Kestrin. “Be that as it may, there's no need to rush. Maybe now's the time to consider a long-term relationship. You can take your time. A month isn't a long time to wait to—”
“No we can't,” Kestrin answered. “I knew I had to ask her last night, and I knew she would say yes.”
“Meaning her senses would have returned at any other time.” Yuki muttered as the justice joined their circle.
A wave of lightheadedness made Lorona grip Kestrin's hands as the ground seemed to ripple under her. He winked and squeezed back. Yuki and Kahlil stepped back, dropped hands, and fell into a branching semi-circle with the justice at the base, then Kestrin and Lorona and finally Yuki and Kahlil at the outer tips. Kestrin and Lorona still held hands.
The justice opened his book of vows and signaled Kestrin, who spoke with his eyes riveted on Lorona's face. “I will love her for as long as I live. I know this like she said she knows her own reflection. I will love her and be faithful whether she leaves me, cheats on me, or breaks my heart. There are people who learn to love, and there are others who've waited their whole lives to find it, knowing only that it exists somewhere in the cosmos.” He paused for a long moment while a cluster of geese honked overhead. He cast an eye on the solemn Yuki and Kahlil. “It's not about what's safe or logical or wise. Something much deeper is speaking to us. Do you stand here to witness that?”
Yuki had to stop and start several times before answering, “I do.”
Kahlil nudged her playfully. “That's the bride's line.”
Lorona was only called “bride” twice before it was all over. Everything passed in a vivid blur. She felt part ice and part vapor. The only thing that kept her from drifting away and dissipating or dissolving was the anchoring grip that Kestrin maintained on her hands. His eyes sparkled with wetness several times and his gaze never once left her face.
Kestrin reached into his pocket and pulled out two silver wedding bands, tied together by a white ribbon. Lorona felt her heart move in an up-down wave.
“I promise to listen to you even if I think you're being unreasonable,” he said.
“I promised to treat harmony as more important than being right,” she replied.
When he slid the ring onto her finger, it fit perfectly. Kestrin fixed her with a steady, intense gaze before taking her in his arms and kissing her. As he pulled away, Lorona found herself regretting that orange juice hadn't been inserted somewhere in the ceremony.
Everything was a first and a last. In less than fifteen minutes, the ink was drying on the marriage license and Kestrin had swept Lorona into his arms, telling her she was going with him to the top of the world.
The birds sang down the remnants of the sun, the cars hummed home for the night, and the clouds were bunched against the Cascade Mountains to the east, tinged with the gentle peach glow of the sunset.
Lorona sighed. It wasn't a dream. This was a real day with real flowers, a real dress, and a real ceremony. And now when Kestrin said that he was taking her to the top of the world, that must be real too.
One thought had been pinching the back of Kestrin's brain the entire drive home. As he stood at his apartment door, his key in hand, Lorona's arm around his waist, he finally voiced it, “Maybe we should get a hotel room for tonight. Then everything will be clean and special. It's our wedding night. We can splurge.”
“Don't be ridiculous.” Lorona took the key from his hand, opened the door herself, and wrapped her arms around his neck so he could carry her over the threshold. “We don't have gobs of money to spend on hotel rooms.”
He set her down inside and she stared at the futon spread with fresh white sheets with scattered yellow and white rose petals. New candles with never-been-lit wicks lined the shelf above the bed.
He started the music, the new Enya CD which she'd said was her favorite. Soft instrumental harp filled the apartment. Lorona sank to sit at the foot of the bed, smiling and blinking slowly in her new home.
The belittling, condemning, hateful chatter of the other women rose in a crescendo inside Kestrin's head as he watched Lorona, and then their voices fell to silence as his wife opened her mouth to laugh with delight. And from that moment on, they were truly alone in the apartment and Kestrin's thoughts were only for her.
He wanted to take her hair down. He wanted to make absolutely everything perfect for her.
After he'd brought her a glass of water, checked the thermostat, and kissed her a hundred times, Lorona stilled him by pressing on his shoulders and said, “I love your home. Our home. It's beautiful.”
He watched Lorona approach the bookshelf lining one wall and slide a slender finger along the dusty spines in their sun-faded colors. She paused with her finger on a thick blue-bound volume. The vacancy beside it should have held Kestrin's journal, currently missing. She turned to him. “Do you know I work in a bookstore? Magpie Books in the University District.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I think I still have lots of things to learn about you.”
“And lots of time.” She said it matter-of-factly. She hummed her way around the extended futon that he'd spread with fresh sheets and a thick blanket. She quietly slid out of her shoes and tiptoed into the kitchen. She ran her fingers along the countertops and paused at the triangular bamboo cutting board.
Kestrin cranked the thermostat up another notch, reminding himself that Lorona would have more need for warmth if her clothes were off. He realized that she planned to make an exploration of the entire apartment first, however.
Kestrin tried to distract himself, but just remained stuck on the mental image of her that the thermostat had put in his head.
Lorona paused at the sink, grabbed the hose, pointed it into the air, and the kitchen became a living fountain with her as centerpiece.
“What are you doing?” He snatched it away and wrapped her in his arms. “That's very pretty, but that's not for indoor use.”
“Why not?” She reached with her foot like a gymnast and tried to turn the water on again. How had she gotten so flexible at a bookstore job? Kestrin's heart thrummed and he cleared his throat to hide the noise. Lorona returned to the main room as Kestrin mopped his shirt with a towel. He watched her pause in front of the balcony window-doors.
“I had no idea you were this curious,” he said as she peered out of her new view.
“I just like to know everything. I hate secrets. Plus…” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I'm kind of nervous right now, if you know what I mean.”
Kestrin hugged her and she was still for a few moments before she kissed him on the cheek and squirmed away.
Lorona wasn't done exploring/feeling nervous. She tried to open the doors to his balcony but they were locked. Kestrin fetched the key. As he slid it inside the keyhole, he said, “If you're going to be honest about your anxiety, I should say this is hard for me, too.” He pushed open the door, “I want to do this right and I—”
She turned quickly and covered his lips with one finger as the cool evening air engulfed them. “No apologies. Not tonight.”
“It's just—”
“I know there were others before me and I know who you were. But I care about what you want now, and who you have yet to be, not who you were.”
“You're very generous and brave.”
She smiled and kissed him.
He said, “I also told my mom I was getting married.”
She frowned. “And?”
“I think she preferred my single, ‘free-loving’ lifestyle.”
Lorona raised an eyebrow and didn't move onto the deck. The twilight tinged the edge of her hair pale purple.
“She thinks marriage constrains love, but she was also in one of her moods. Tomorrow she'll be your best friend.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“Kestrin…”
“She said the marriage wouldn't last, and that I was crazy.” He shuddered in the cold and wondered if he'd just jinxed something. One hand absently went to his necklace.
“That makes me a little nervous, you know,” Lorona said as she slipped past him onto the deck.
Kestrin followed her. “Honestly, tomorrow she'll call and she'll ask to talk to you and she'll be the sweetest thing. Let's forget about my mom, okay? It's our wedding night.”
Lorona leaned over the edge of the balcony and sighed with admiration of the view. She was like a child, a very beautiful child who had just made a very serious decision. She delighted him; and Kestrin was surprised by how potent and deep the feeling ran.
She looked back coyly over her shoulder. In the beginnings of the starlight, he realized just how much of the water from the kitchen fountain had soaked into her white dress. He brought the blanket from the futon and arranged it around her shoulders.
“So this is the top of the world.” She sighed happily as the remaining light shrank into a sky that sparkled with stars.
“Sometimes,” he whispered to Lorona, “I open the doors and stick my pillow out here so that I can look up and see the stars while I'm sleeping.”
“You can't see the stars while you're sleeping. Your eyes are closed, goofball.” Lorona sighed. “Or do you mean that when you sleep under the stars, they fall into your dreams?”
He pulled her close so that her hands and elbows rested on his chest. “I want more than stars to fall into my dreams.”
This is my wife, he thought to himself, and peace settled around his shoulders like a fluffy fleece jacket.
Lorona stretched her arms wide. The silver ring on her finger twinkled in the moonlight. “Then catch me.”
