Chapter 2-1
1066 Words
Chapter 2
Pad stacked the envelopes. He sent one batch a few days ago and now he was done with the second and final set. Next to him was a stack of papers that didn’t make the cut because the printer refused to cooperate. He glanced at his fingers for a moment. Blue stains dotted his thumb and index finger as well as the nail bed of the pinky finger. Writing the addresses on the envelopes with a fountain pen proved messier than he thought. Saving money was a good thing; too bad he hadn’t realized until now that he would be frustrated with the inability to get things done on time. He had written out on the calendar the five-week cut-off to send invitations.
Now, he was running into the fourth week before the wedding. He still had to arrange for a florist and and confirming the other odds and ends that had to be done. His aunt and Jen consistently called, and always were there to pitch in and help or offer advice when he asked for it, but still he felt overwhelmed. He ignored the television, which broadcasted an update on Orlando weather. The June weather called for heat and humidity, forty percent chance for showers and then more heat and humidity.
He walked to the calendar held by magnets on the refrigerator and took off the Post-it notes on the calendar. RJ’s group therapy sessions were circled here and there on the calendar.
Pad reviewed the Post-its. It looked like he had all the invitations done. He just had to make sure. He looked next at a small hand-written list paper-clipped to a Post-it. The last Post-it note involved the church.
Final Counseling.
Once that session was complete, the church would certify that they had completed the pre-marital requirements. They just had to get approval. They didn’t make it this far last time.
He looked around. There were stacks of comic books and some magazines on the bar. He wanted to throw them out but RJ insisted on keeping some articles that featured Stan Lee. Because of the recent spate of superhero movies, RJ rekindled his love of comic books and wanted to meet Stan Lee.
I’d rather have him addicted to comic books.
The apartment was a mess. Dishes had piled up the last two days. He knew the laundry hamper contained enough clothes for ten loads of laundry.
So much s**t to do, so little time.
He scratched his head and exhaled. Loudly. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He extended his neck, heard the crack, and felt the slight tightening of his own trapezius muscles on the right side of his neck. He groaned in pain.
As he craned his neck, he stared at the photo he kept on the side of the fridge. Ransom James Davis stood with a broad smile with wavy brown hair combed. The picture depicted him shirtless, wearing a bikini, showing off his defined body including the six-pack abs, the large toned biceps, and thighs. Wayfarer sunglasses protected RJ’s violet-blue eyes. Pad stood next to him, paler and wearing a tank top. Pad wore matching sunglasses and matching bikini. Behind them was a large 747 flying over Maho beach in St. Maarten.
Pad shook his head; he’d gained at least ten pounds since the photo was taken a year before.
Okay, stop dwelling on the negative.
His heart leapt. He seemed to experience these moments more often as the big day approached; they were a weird mixture of excitement, anxiety, and worry. Soon he would be Pad Davis. Pad Davis! It was his idea to take RJ’s last name. Everyone knew how to spell Davis. He wouldn’t have to spell Davis. No more spelling his last name. And it felt right to take RJ’s.
I want to be his and have him be my husband!
As he stood there in the kitchen, he pulled out a small memo pad from the junk drawer they kept for odds and ends, like keys, the odd recipe or two, and some coupons. He doodled his future name.
Pad Davis.
He did it in block lettering, then he did it in longhand.
He loved how it sounded and how it looked on paper. Then he said his name out loud, several times finally singing the name to himself. Aunt Maddy was fine with the change in names.
Only Jen and Jack weren’t so sure.
Hyphenate your name, they said.
Jack especially. He’d been the most vocal. Jack wasn’t too keen on Pad marrying RJ, and when Pad broke it off two years before, Jack was there to hold him while he cried. He only waited an hour later to tell Pad, “Good riddance.”
When Pad got back together with RJ, Jack wasn’t that enthusiastic. In fact, Jack and Pad didn’t talk for weeks. It hurt not to talk to Jack. Through their ups and downs, Jack and Jen were always there. In the end, Jack and Pad patched things up about RJ and when RJ re-proposed, Jack agreed to be Pad’s best man.
Why not?
They were like brothers. Jen was like his sister. They’d known each other since grade school. Braces, pimples, eyeglasses, boys. They lived through s**t and watched each other through all those changes, and stuck together, bad teenage hormones and all. They had their stupid teenage squabbles in high school and the world wasn’t what they thought it was going to be.
Hanging not too far from where Pad stood was a picture of the four of them, framed and hung on the wall in the living room. Jen, brown hair, face freckled from the sun, stood next to Jack, who wore a Magic jersey, which showcased his thin pale arms. Jack’s then-brown hair was slightly sun-bleached. Pad stood adjacent to Jack while RJ had his arms around Pad’s shoulders as they all stood in the stands of the new Magic Arena with the arena’s stained floor in the background. The only person missing in the picture was Liam since he took the photo of all of them.
Jack, Jen, Pad; they all agreed being an adult wasn’t that much fun, but through all that crap they were family.
Family.
He and RJ would be their own family.
He held up his left hand and stared for a second at the engagement ring that circled his finger. He visualized the gold wedding ring in its place and sighed.
RJ was better now. Counseling helped him and helped Pad.
No one was perfect; they both wanted and deserved second chances.
- Writer
