Wedding Bells Part 2

The wedding reception continued on into the evening. I could see the trees outside, through a open doorway, waving their branches to the soothing breeze. What had been an unbearable heat was now one of those beautiful summer nights when you feel like sleeping outside on the lawn and the grass feels better than the best comforter ever could.

An orange low-lit glow ensconced itself through all the tables as the waiters took away everyone's plates.

A few people had made their way to the dance floor like the first few ants to arrive on freshly dropped ice cream cone. They nervously skittered about bumping into each other before retreating to their table in hopes of some recruits.

Me, I was a firm believer in avoiding embarrassing situations. Nothing in my memory indicated that I could dance or would look graceful on a dance floor. As far as I was concerned it was lava and I was going to cling to this seat to avoid it.

"Come on Evan, let's dance"

My long time family friend and one time 6th grade crush smiled as she tried to coax me from my lava buoy.

"No I don't think so Hope. I'm not much of a dancer."

"Neither am I. It's just for fun, nobody cares what you look like." she said, looking really nice in her formal dress. She was always attractive but, I guess it's rare that i'd seen her so done up.

She was the first girl I ever had a crush on but it was not 'til know that I noticed what a beautiful woman she'd apparently become.

However the will avoid embarrassment was stronger than the conjured up feelings of a 12 year old and I resisted once more.

"Suit yourself Evan." she said dismissively. "Oh, Brick House, I love this song."

So she ran off to the dance floor. When it came to filling up a dance floor, no song was more inviting than Brick House. At a wedding it was somehow everyone's jam.

I watched the people laugh at each other. I felt like the boy who never went in pools at summertime parties. I had been that boy in fact. It was this bad habit which led to another, the habit of people watching.

I studied people with a careful thoroughness better reserved for a term paper. It fascinated me. Especially people acting without inhibition and wedding dance floors were full of willing players in my game.

A large man with a dark mustache and receding hairline bounced up and down like like a basketball. Laughing all the while, his face turning red.

I turned toward the wonderful night through the doorway. A tunnel to better thoughts. It brought a smile to my face. A grin born not from inward observations but a dialogue. A friendship, a feeling, a conversation. I have met a few great girls in only a short time. More so than any other group, they challenged me, they changed me, they made me smile. Girls who in the most random times pop up in my thoughts and remind me that not everything in life is so dire.

They were frustrating as well. Almost unknowable at times. Individuals, not reliant at all on me or anyone else for their self definition. But they were not uncaring or crude, in fact, they were all kind. Kindness that came from not only kind words or gestures, but in the times when I failed, they didn't. When I touched the flame and they let themselves burn out, instead of engulfing me in my misgivings.

Now they were all a sweet smoke. Smoldering in the depths of my thoughts when I feel a little tired and maybe a little lonely.

Hope, out on the dance floor, reminded me about all i'd missed out on because of overly ambitious inhibition.

I didn't have feelings for her anymore. Her flame had gone out first. But I did want someone. Not in an urgent pathetic sense that sometimes got me sloppy when I drank or depressed on beautiful days. I just felt like it was time. But I'm not the keeper of such things, I guess.

A group of girls gathered around the middle of the varnished wood tile and happily danced any number of goofy ways to the ironically sensual pop song playing over the PA system. They looked like they were having fun.

I laughed to myself and was about to stare out the doorway again when one of the girls in particular caught my eye.

I knew her.

Or at least recognized her. Understandably so. She had these beaming green eyes and pale pink skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. I still couldn't remember where i'd seen her except that I knew i'd written a poem about her. Oh that's right.

She was in a health class with me. She sat near me and I think we eventually did a project together. Geraldine. Some poets had great muses. I had random girls that sat near me.

"Evan, we're going now. It's getting late."

Good old mom. I finally found a reason to stay and now it seems i'll meet the doorway before could work up the resolve to formally meet another old flame.

Gathering all of our things and saying our goodbyes we left the reception, walking just around the perimeter of the dance floor.

Always on the edge, looking in.

On the way out, I glanced one last time at Geraldine. Half joking and never fully expecting to keep my promise, I told myself if I ever saw her on campus I would talk to her.

But those are the kinds of vows one makes while their eyes are adjusting to a warm summer eve.