That Wedding

Now the boys have the deer in the headlight look. They freeze and watch Phillip throw back the shot.

He says, "Damn, that was good."

"So we've heard," Nick says slyly and arches an eyebrow at me.

Shit.

Thankfully, Phillip changes the subject. "Okay, so back to God. I think you're having bad dreams because you're nervous about marrying me. Are you nervous about marrying me?"

"Uh, I don't think so. I'm doing great on the pla

"Yeah, but it's more than a party, right?"

"Yes, and so that's why I came to the bar after the museum. To talk to Nicky. To see if I'm having like a premonition or something. I mean, you don't want me to burst into flames at our wedding. It would sorta ruin the event."

He chuckles. "Well yeah, it probably would put a damper on things."

"I'd watch out for lightening if I were you, Phillip. Oh hey, I gotta go work. The cuties are yelling for me."

"The cuties?"

"Oh yeah, Cutie One and Cutie Two. I don't know their names."

"Bradley seems to be awfully cool about this. Is he hitting on you?"

"I don't think so."

"JJ," he warns.

"Uh, no, well, I don't know. Nicky, has Bradley been hitting on me?"

"Definitely flirting. No, that's not right, he said if you wanted to hookup, he had no problem with that," Nick tells us.

"So, you know, not really," I say.

"I see."

"Why are you here anyway? It's a long drive just for beers."

The cuties wave their empty mugs and yell at me.

"Shit, hold that thought. I think they want me to do a shot with them."

"How many shots have you had again?"

"Uh, Nicky? We had two when we got here, right? I had a special one, and, uh, maybe a couple more mixed in there somewhere, but I mean I've been here for like hours, and I had rice in a baggie and some pizza. It's not like I'm drunk."

He looks at me. Gives me that glare. That tell me the truth glare. You know the one, the one that makes me spill my guts to him. Always.

"Fine, I might be tipsy. Maybe a little drunkish. I can feel it, but you know, I'm fine. Pretty much fine."

"I don't think you should do any more shots."

"Oh my gosh, Phillip, I'm earning tips here."

"If that guy puts another tip down your shirt, I'm pounding him. Just saying."

I go up to the cuties. "Jeeze, what? You have no patience."

"We're empty. Bradley said you have to wait on us. We think Bradley might be jealous."

"Bradley?"

"Hey, you wanted a job. Just making sure you do it. What did Phillip think of the shot?"

"He said it was really good."

Bradley winks at me. "Yeah, baby, it was."

"You should totally do it with the bartender again. He wants you," Cutie One says.

"You're just taking his side, so you can get free drinks. Can I get you a drink?"

"A couple shots for us and one for you too."

I turn and tell Bradley, "Three shots, please."

"You can't have any more shots."

I love how boys think they can tell me what I can and can't do.

"Why not?"

"You're working. I can't have you any drunker than you already are."

"What did you say to Phillip? Or what did he say to you?"

"Just guy talk."

"Guys don't talk, they threaten."

"No, he didn't really. He's cool. Unfortunately, I like the guy. I was just telling him about your special vodka."

"Oh, good. He can buy me some for home."

"I think he already has some at home."

The cuties giggle.

"What?" I ask the cuties.

"Nothing," they reply.

Bradley says, "So what did you decide? You coming home with me tonight?"

I start to feel sad. I feel like my fun single life is ending. It's like the end of an era. And I want the era to end. I want to marry Phillip, but I don't know if he should want to marry me. If he was smart, he wouldn't.

I get little prickly tears in my eyes. "Phillip wants to marry me. I don't know why he does. Look at me."

Bradley takes the opportunity to do just that. His eyes slowly survey every inch of my body. I want to tell him I meant look at me, like, I'm a mess. I wasn't telling him to actually look at me.

When he works his way back up to my eyes, he says, "You're fun. Maybe you should ditch him, start a relationship with me."

"Relationships are like a disease, Bradley. You should think twice before you go getting into one. Did you know if you're not careful, they will fester on you, infect you, and smother you. Then I'm pretty sure you die."

"If you feel that way, maybe God was trying to tell you something. In fact, if you listen really hard, he will probably say, Go home with Bradley tonight."

To which the cuties raise their voices high and both whisper, "Go home with Bradley tonight. Go home with Bradley tonight."

"See. God just spoke to you," Bradley smirks.

"I'm not that drunk," I tell the cuties.

Bradley pulls me toward the other side of the bar, away from the cuties. "What's all this about festering and infections?"

The tears start to fall now, and I can't even stop them because the idea of me and Phillip's relationship dying makes me really sad. It's the whole reason I'm here. Plus, I might be drunk. "Pastor told us that would happen to our relationship because we solve our conflicts with sex."

"Don't cry, baby. Sex sounds like a fun way to solve a conflict."

I cry a little harder. "I know, but it's wrong, and so we're failing couple's counseling. I've never failed anything, Bradley. But I am. And our wedding is going be a disaster. Our guests will catch fire, be eaten by crocodiles, I'll be pulled into the pits of hell because they don't like my dress, my veil is going to burn, and I'll run away with a fireman who looks just like Phillip, straight down to his abs."

Bradley says, "I think you should go change now."

I sniffle. "Okay."

I go in the back, change, and try to compose myself. When I come back out, Bradley has a special vodka shot for me. He toasts, "Here's to good memories and a happy future. Your wedding is going to be amazing. None of those things are going to happen, I promise. Now, go sit with your fiancee."

So I do.

Phillip takes me home. We don't have sex on the stairs because my condo does not have stairs. But I'm drunk enough to be feeling quite naughty, and Phillip doesn't seem to mind that at all.

I have the kind of massive headache that comes from mixing alcohol.

And sixty-eight dollars worth of tips in my coat pocket.

I really should know better than to mix alcohol like that.

Phillip is a sweetie. He took the day off with me. He's been watching movies while I sleep with my head on his lap.

I think maybe I was just scared.

There's no way God could not be Team Phillip.

It's just too right.

I think.

I'm still worried about what my head thinks though.

Shit. We were supposed to meet with Pastor last night. "Phillip, we skipped couple's counseling!"

"It's okay, I called and rescheduled for tomorrow night. Told him you got called out of town."