All of Me

Once they were seated at the table, two steaming plates of lasagna, two cold bowls of salad, and two cool glasses of wine in front of them, Diana smiled at her fiance. “Would you like to know about my day?”

“Um, sure, though Rena warned me it was terrible,” Marty said as he speared some of the salad on his fork and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Terrible is the operative word,” she played along. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a dress that sings to me.”

Marty choked on his salad and laughter. “Sings to you? What the fu*k does that mean?”

She laughed around her lasagna, swallowed, and sipped her wine before explaining. “The right dress will call to me, sing my name like a Disney movie.”

“That sounds…” Marty searched for words, shrugged, and stuffed a huge bite of lasagna in his mouth.

Diana shook her head, smiling at him. “You’re so goofy.” She sipped her wine, set it down, and pinned him with a stare. “So, what aren’t you telling me?”

Marty’s eyes widened innocently. Around his mouthful of food, he mumbled, “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head at him, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re nervous as a kitten. You hide it well, but I know.”

After swallowing, he inhaled deeply and looked into her eyes. “Well, babe, I do have some bad news.”

“Is that why you made me this yummy dinner?” she asked, her tone implying her temper was rising.

He looked to the side, grinning sheepishly. “Um, maybe. I wanted you to have a full, happy belly before we talked.”

“Okay,” she answered. She took a huge bite of lasagna and gestured for him to speak while she chewed her food.

Frowning, he stared at his plate for a few seconds, let out a little breath, and told her the bad news in a rush. “We can’t get married at The Liberty.”

Silence met his announcement. He stared at his plate a few seconds more and finally looked at his fiancée. She stared at him as if confused by his words.

“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Diana snarled. “Could you explain?”

“You heard me correctly,” he sighed. “The Liberty was double booked. The other couple reserved it first, so we got booted. They returned the deposit and offered us the next available date.”

“The next available date? When is that?”

“A year from now,” he muttered, watching her face, which fell as if he’d punched her.

She put her hand on her stomach. “A year? I don’t want to wait another year, Marty. It’s already six months away.”

“If we changed the date, if we chose to wait, we could still get married there,” Marty interjected. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. He jumped up and knelt beside her chair. “Baby, please don’t cry. We don’t have to wait until it’s available. We can find a new venue.”

She wiped the tear hastily away. “I really don’t want to change the date, Marty. I want to be your wife.”

“That’s all I want, baby. Let’s figure this out,” he said as he rose and hurried to the kitchen. He returned with his laptop. “I’ve been researching other venues that are open that weekend.”

As he scrolled through the pages, Diana watched him instead of the pages. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Babe, you want The Liberty. I’ll wait if it’s important to you to get married there like your parents.”

Marty looked into her eyes and shook his head. “I want you to be my wife. I’ve been waiting to be your husband. I found five places that are open that weekend. We can look through them and pick the one you like the best.”

“The one we like the best,” she murmured as she closed the laptop. “Let’s finish our dinner first.”

“Okay, baby.” He returned to his seat and continued eating. They didn’t speak for several minutes, both of them lost in thought, when she gasped and grabbed his hand. His fork clattered to the table. “Jesus! What?”

She giggled. “Sorry, babe. But I have a great idea!”

“Okay, share,” he said as he wiped the table with his napkin where the sauce had splattered off his fork.

“The beach.”

He stopped his movement and looked up at her. “The beach?”

“Yes!” she squealed with excitement. “We both love the beach, and we live close to the coast. We could find a hotel that caters to that sort of thing, stay there the night before, and get married on the beach that afternoon.”

Marty tilted his head in thought. “I like that idea. Let’s do it!”

“Yes!” She jumped up and launched herself into his arms, giggling when he squealed when the chair tipped back dangerously.