Marcia Last

Funny, I suppose that I am going to do something completely different, and write about Marcia...backwards. Yes, that's true. Just to be different...and because in so many ways, she is completely different than any other woman in my life. I suppose that I went about everything completely backwards, anyway.

Damn idiot. Falling in love with a girl at first sight, anyway.

So, of course, I must start with the very last time that I saw Marcia. Which makes complete, utter and total sense...because it might have been the very first time that I saw the truth.

The truth that really mattered.

And what do you get for your price of admission? Well, very likely a story that makes little if any sense, because it is taken entirely outside of almost a decade's worth of context.

*

The setting, of course, is fairly straightforward. It's Marcia's wedding day.

How's that for a kicker?

I do remember that it was difficult for me to attend, way back in the latter reaches of the eighties, and I was absolutely disgusted to find, at the last moment, that I didn't have a suit that would fit me. So I stuck together some sketchy approximation of "respectable", for not only Marcia's sake, but her entire family meant a great deal to me. And off I went for a wedding that I entirely approved of...and absolutely loathed the thought of.

To tell you the truth, all that I wanted was for Marcia to be happy. And how could she ever be happy with a schmuck like me? Scott was a nice guy, after all.

I have to admit that much of the ceremony went by in a blur. Marcia was beautiful, of course. I remember passing through the reception line, and the horrible thought of kissing the bride passed through my mind. Not that kissing her would have been horrible, of course, but...well, uh, you get the idea.

And there were a couple of guys brave enough to take advantage of that ancient tradition, with a peck on the cheek. But no, not for me. The least problem being that I was far, far too shy.

Marcia was radiant.

The reception was in the church Annex afterwards, and though I had been close to dad Mike, mom Carol, and (especially) brother Greg for some time, I remained in the background.

I knew where my place was in this particular celebration.

Still, I couldn't stay too far distant.

Scott attempted to cater to Marcia's sense of romance and adventure by hiring a balloon to carry them away from the reception. Unfortunately, the winds that afternoon were too high to take off.

Like many other dreams that day, that particular one never got off the ground.

As everyone vanished, I found myself helping to clean up the Annex, like the decent guy I sometimes manage to be. Refrigerating food, putting away tables and chairs, helping to dispose of the trash, that sort of thing. There were surprisingly few hands available. Yet I felt myself more than obligated.

Marcia was floating about in her happiness and joy (still radiant), and at one point, when the place was becoming quite deserted, I accompanied one of the guys towards the Church, along the hall connecting the main building with the Annex. He assured me that he could handle his task alone, and vanished into the bowels of the Church, trailing the rest of the men of the wedding party.

I stood there alone for a moment in the long empty corridor, gazing after him. Feeling the utter silence, pondering the events of the day...and what they had meant to me. What really mattered to me was that Marcia was quite obviously, completely happy.

As she could never be with a wreck like me.

And her happiness...satisfied me.

Hearing a slight rustle behind me, I turned in startlement.

To find Marcia behind me, quietly looking up at me expectantly, a smile caressing her face, head tilted slightly to the side.

She was still in her elegant gown, though her veil missing, the train was long since departed.

Take that, metaphor city.

Marcia looked absolutely, stunningly beautiful, graceful neck curving down to greet bare shoulders.

And she was happy. Content. There was no doubt in my mind.

The moment stretched, and she didn't say anything, just looking up, into my eyes.

The silence surrounding us billowed. I knew how absolutely alone we were, the guests departed, the few remaining family members in the farthest reaches of the buildings.

Take her into your arms. Kiss her.

Not really a thought, more simply a profound feeling; the awareness, the conviction blossomed in my heart, filling my soul. I knew, utterly, that it was absolutely the right and fitting and perfect thing to do. Something once in our life for us to share. Knowing completely that no one else could ever see, would ever know.

Once in your life, for you will never have another opportunity.

Yet another voice, a voice of conscience, wrested me away. Away from battles surrendered before being fought, a dream forever lost.

It was too late to kiss her...more than an hour ago. The moment that she said her vows.

It was an angry voice. There was a finality to that statement which resounded through me.

I don't remember exactly what I did, what I said. I think that I mumbled something absolutely nonsensical and inane, and physically wrenched myself away. Horribly, turning my back on her.

I doubt that Marcia ever understood my abrupt departure.

I stalked...nay, blindly half stumbled away.

Remembering a fumbled moment on a staircase, a year before, in the middle of the night.

Hating myself, for lost opportunities. Shattered dreams.

Fractured fairy tales.