with a V-back. It clung to my curves in the right places, belled out in the others. My hair was down and loosely curled, swept back from my face and held in place by a complicated arrangement of bobby pins. I was wearing a simple pair of black flats, a white gold necklace with a teardrop sapphire pendant with matching earrings Jeff had gotten me for our first anniversary. I knew I looked beautiful, and, more importantly, I felt beautiful.
I crossed the room and took Jeff's hand, let him sweep me into a waltz hold and move around the floor in smooth, slow circles. His hand rested easily on the swell of my hip, the other clasping my hand near our shoulders. Our bodies brushed and touched as we moved, and Jeff's eyes gazed into mine, blazing with affection.
As happened often, I felt a burst of pure love rush through me, joy at being his wife, his best friend. There were times, lying awake at night while Jeff slept, when I wondered how I had gotten so lucky. He loved me, he took care of me. He protected me and cherished me. I thought back, as I danced with him, to the afternoon when he'd asked me to marry him. If I could go back in time and talk to the me who had hesitated, wondered if I was ready, wondered if I could or should take the huge step and marry him...I would shake her by the shoulders and yell at her, make her say yes, emphatically, a thousand times yes.
My life could be very neatly split it two parts: before Jeff, and after Jeff.
Before I accepted his love, and learned how deeply I returned it, my life was dull, lonely, and drab. Empty. I often wondered how I had functioned without Jeff.
Now, as his wife, everything was bright and vibrant. I felt alive, complete. Even the colors of life, the blue of the sky, the gray of overcast clouds, the green of the grass and leaves and the brown of Jeff's eyes, these seemed brighter. The feel of his hand in mine as we walked, the caress of his lips on mine, on my body at night, I felt these more acutely, as if his love and attention had woken up some long-slumbering part of my very being.
We finished our dance, by which time the party was over, the governor having paid us and thanked us. Most of the guests had gone by the time Jeff and I had our equipment put away, and then Jeff settled in at an empty table with a glass of wine. I was, again, drinking ice water.
"You don't want a drink?" Jeff lifted his glass.
"Nah," I said. "I guess I'm feeling a bit queasy. I had two cupcakes."
He finished his glass in a couple of big gulps and took my hand. "Well then, let's get back to the hotel."
We were flying out to Florida in the morning, an early flight so we could spend Christmas Eve with my cousin Miri, my mom and Ed, and my Uncle Stuart and his wife. Jeff's mom and brother were flying down as well, and we were spending Christmas Day with them. Jeff and I were doing our gift exchange with each other that night, in the hotel room.
The short drive from the Whitney to our hotel was quiet and awkward. Jeff seemed to have picked up on the fact that I had something on my mind, but knew me well enough to know I'd tell him when I was ready.
We'd checked in earlier in the day and left our luggage in the room, so when we got in, we sat down and traded gifts. Jeff had gotten me a Coach purse I'd been eying for weeks. It was big and black and leather; he knows me well enough to buy a purse for me. You know your man loves you when he can pick out a purse you'd like. I made the appropriate excited noises, and then handed him my gift to him. It was a small package, just a little square box wrapped in silvery paper, but all my nerves were on fire as he opened it.
Jeff had quizzical expression on his face as he peeled open the paper to reveal a Bulova watch box. I'd seen a couple of old watches in a box on Jeff's dresser, but he never wore them. He opened the box and pulled out the silver Precisionist watch, grinning.
"Wow, honey, this is awesome. I love these
I crossed the room and took Jeff's hand, let him sweep me into a waltz hold and move around the floor in smooth, slow circles. His hand rested easily on the swell of my hip, the other clasping my hand near our shoulders. Our bodies brushed and touched as we moved, and Jeff's eyes gazed into mine, blazing with affection.
As happened often, I felt a burst of pure love rush through me, joy at being his wife, his best friend. There were times, lying awake at night while Jeff slept, when I wondered how I had gotten so lucky. He loved me, he took care of me. He protected me and cherished me. I thought back, as I danced with him, to the afternoon when he'd asked me to marry him. If I could go back in time and talk to the me who had hesitated, wondered if I was ready, wondered if I could or should take the huge step and marry him...I would shake her by the shoulders and yell at her, make her say yes, emphatically, a thousand times yes.
My life could be very neatly split it two parts: before Jeff, and after Jeff.
Before I accepted his love, and learned how deeply I returned it, my life was dull, lonely, and drab. Empty. I often wondered how I had functioned without Jeff.
Now, as his wife, everything was bright and vibrant. I felt alive, complete. Even the colors of life, the blue of the sky, the gray of overcast clouds, the green of the grass and leaves and the brown of Jeff's eyes, these seemed brighter. The feel of his hand in mine as we walked, the caress of his lips on mine, on my body at night, I felt these more acutely, as if his love and attention had woken up some long-slumbering part of my very being.
We finished our dance, by which time the party was over, the governor having paid us and thanked us. Most of the guests had gone by the time Jeff and I had our equipment put away, and then Jeff settled in at an empty table with a glass of wine. I was, again, drinking ice water.
"You don't want a drink?" Jeff lifted his glass.
"Nah," I said. "I guess I'm feeling a bit queasy. I had two cupcakes."
He finished his glass in a couple of big gulps and took my hand. "Well then, let's get back to the hotel."
We were flying out to Florida in the morning, an early flight so we could spend Christmas Eve with my cousin Miri, my mom and Ed, and my Uncle Stuart and his wife. Jeff's mom and brother were flying down as well, and we were spending Christmas Day with them. Jeff and I were doing our gift exchange with each other that night, in the hotel room.
The short drive from the Whitney to our hotel was quiet and awkward. Jeff seemed to have picked up on the fact that I had something on my mind, but knew me well enough to know I'd tell him when I was ready.
We'd checked in earlier in the day and left our luggage in the room, so when we got in, we sat down and traded gifts. Jeff had gotten me a Coach purse I'd been eying for weeks. It was big and black and leather; he knows me well enough to buy a purse for me. You know your man loves you when he can pick out a purse you'd like. I made the appropriate excited noises, and then handed him my gift to him. It was a small package, just a little square box wrapped in silvery paper, but all my nerves were on fire as he opened it.
Jeff had quizzical expression on his face as he peeled open the paper to reveal a Bulova watch box. I'd seen a couple of old watches in a box on Jeff's dresser, but he never wore them. He opened the box and pulled out the silver Precisionist watch, grinning.
"Wow, honey, this is awesome. I love these
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