Walk With Me Part 26

"The dress ripped," Jennifer said, falling into a chair. "There's nothing we can do."

"Maybe we can sew it," Sheila said.

"Mom, how are we going to sew it? We don't have time or the right thread or-"

"What about glue?" the maid of honor suggested.

For whatever reason, I thought someone would listen to logic. "We can't just glue a-"

"I have nail glue!" the maid of honor said. "It's really strong!"

Jennifer looked up hopefully. "Do you think it'll work?"

I absolutely did not think it would work.

"We don't have anything to lose," Sheila said.

"Except a layer of skin when you glue a dress to it," I mumbled.

"I'll try it." Jennifer bounced out of the chair. "I'll put the Spanx on first so it fits better." She started shrugging out of her dress.

Slightly runny makeup and hysteria aside, Jennifer was a pretty woman and I didn't relish the thought of Seth seeing her naked. Not that I was the jealous type, but I was an eensy bit of the jealous type.

"Well, it sounds like you have it all under control," I said, grabbing Seth's elbow. "We'll see you in there."

"Okay." Jennifer didn't slow in her disrobing. I said a mental thank-you for bras.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Seth asked. Thankfully he was looking at Sheila rather than the now half-undressed Jennifer.

Sheila, bless her, stepped in front of her daughter and waved us off. "We're good, Rabbi. Thank you for your help."

When Jennifer walked down the aisle thirty minutes later, she looked gorgeous. Her hair and makeup were perfect and her dress was stunning. Apparently Spanx and nail glue were a magic combination. Not magic enough to keep the bride from pa.s.sing out during the middle of the reception due to oxygen deprivation from having her lungs constricted, but, thankfully, it was after the cutting of the cake and the first dance, so the pictures were mostly done. And I heard the chemical burns from the glue wouldn't leave lasting scars, which was a happy bonus.

BY THE THE time we got home from what I decided I'd forever call the Dead Fish Wedding, my stomach felt like it was eating itself. time we got home from what I decided I'd forever call the Dead Fish Wedding, my stomach felt like it was eating itself.

"I can't believe they didn't serve dinner." I grumbled as I ripped open the refrigerator and looked for whatever I could eat fastest. "They had all those pretty tables with the china and the silverware and the not dead centerpieces but no food! What was the point of all the dishes if there wasn't going to be food?"

"Sit down, baby." Seth strolled into the kitchen and took my spot in front of the fridge. "I'll make you something to eat."

I was breaking out in a cold sweat and shaking, so I did what he said and collapsed on a kitchen chair. "How is it you're not starving? We got there at four and it's after nine. We totally skipped dinner."

"They served some food." He put the frying pan on the stove and lit the burner.

"Tiny little puff pastries filled with mushrooms or olives or whatever are not dinner. They're an appetizer, maybe."

"They were good, though, right?" He cracked eggs into the pan and whisked them with a fork.

"Yes. The two I was allotted were good."

He sprinkled shredded cheese into the pan. "And the cake was good," he said.

"Yes. But again, I only got one slice."

"I think they were trying to keep costs down." He put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

"Then they should have invited fewer than three hundred of their dearest friends." I looked him over. He seemed fine. A little distracted, maybe, but fine. "Seriously, how are you not hungry?"

"I'm hungry but I ate a sandwich before we left, remember?" He got the b.u.t.ter out of the fridge. "I offered to make you one."

"Well, I wasn't hungry then and I thought we'd get dinner."

Seth spooned the eggs onto two plates and started b.u.t.tering the toast. "If there's one thing I've learned by going to all these weddings year after year, it's that you can't count on anything, least of all edible food." He slid one plate in front of me, along with a fork, knife, and napkin. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water's good." I picked up my fork and dug into my meal. Seth set my water down and then got his own plate and drink and joined me at the table. "Thank you," I said once I'd swallowed enough egg to ease the sharp hunger pains.

"You're welcome, baby." He reached over and combed his fingers through my hair. "Let me know if you want more."

His sweetness and caring never failed to make my heart swell. "I feel better already." I raised my free hand up, grasped his, and squeezed it. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"You do the same for me." He drew in a deep breath. "Which brings me back to what I started telling you at the wedding today. I've been thinking. You lift me up. You support me. You never rub me the wrong way and-"

"Sounds like you're describing a bra," I pointed out and took a bite of toast. "Speaking of bras, did you check out Jennifer's rack?"

He rolled his eyes. "Are you being stupidly jealous again?"

"No." I swallowed and lowered my gaze. "Maybe." I looked up at him from underneath my lashes. "But I don't do it much anymore."

His warm brown eyes twinkled. "I know you don't. And you know I love you and don't want to be with anybody else-rack or not."

"I know." And I did. He showed me by the way he touched me tenderly and gazed at me lovingly. He showed me when he put up with my bad days and laughed at all my jokes. He showed me by holding me in his arms every night and kissing me good-bye when he went to work in the morning. "I'm not really jealous. I just forget sometimes because you're gorgeous and people look at you"-I winked-"and I want to put a sign around your neck that says you're taken."

"Well, I don't know about a sign, but maybe a ring." Seth slid out of his chair and dropped to one knee.

"What are you doing?" My fork clattered against the plate and my heart started racing.

He pulled my hand onto his raised knee and gazed up at me. "Eli Block, will you marry me?"

Of course I said yes. Well, first I flew out of my chair, tackled him to the ground, and shoved my tongue into his mouth. But later, when we were wiping c.u.m off the kitchen floor, I said yes.

Chapter 18.

Seth Cohen.

WHEN I I made the decision to follow my heart and pursue a life walking beside Eli, I a.s.sumed that meant I might never walk down the proverbial aisle because, at the time, there wasn't legal recognition of marriage between two men. But six years later, that had changed. Marriage equality was the law of the land in quite a few states, including my home state of California, and the US Supreme Court had overturned a key provision of the Defense of Marriage act, giving federal recognition to marriages conducted in those states. The ability to marry brought with it legal rights and responsibilities, emotional relief and joy, and the potential to start an interfamily battle so profound the destruction of the Temple would seem small in comparison. made the decision to follow my heart and pursue a life walking beside Eli, I a.s.sumed that meant I might never walk down the proverbial aisle because, at the time, there wasn't legal recognition of marriage between two men. But six years later, that had changed. Marriage equality was the law of the land in quite a few states, including my home state of California, and the US Supreme Court had overturned a key provision of the Defense of Marriage act, giving federal recognition to marriages conducted in those states. The ability to marry brought with it legal rights and responsibilities, emotional relief and joy, and the potential to start an interfamily battle so profound the destruction of the Temple would seem small in comparison.

Okay, so that was a little dramatic, but here's the thing: Avi Block-Eli's father and the man who had been my mentor and my boss before he retired-was a rabbi. Robert Cohen-my father, the man who had raised me, loved me, paid for my education, and helped me grow into the person I was-was a rabbi. Even my brother was a rabbi. There were a lot of rabbis in our lives and in our families, so, needless to say, from almost the instant Eli and I got engaged, a battle began to brew about which rabbi would officiate our ceremony.

Anybody who wasn't a blood relative was immediately dismissed as a nonoption lest blood be shed by our sure-to-be enraged families. My brother Jed wasn't an issue. He kindly told me he wouldn't do the job even if I begged because he wanted his children to have a relations.h.i.+p with their grandfather, and being disowned wouldn't be conducive to that. So that left my dad and Eli's dad vying for the position.

Not surprisingly, our mothers solved the problem by pointing out that there was nothing preventing our fathers from officiating the ceremony together. Neither of them was thrilled at the prospect of sharing the honor, but admitting that when the other man was pretending to be fine with it wasn't an option. Basically, they were in a game of chicken, each one waiting for the other to throw a fit and be the bad guy. That didn't happen and their attempts at pa.s.sive-aggressive guilt tactics were a joke compared to what both Eli and I were used to from our mothers, so ultimately, the issue was resolved with the joint-officiating compromise.

The decision of where to hold the wedding was a less controversial topic. Though Eli and I would have loved to get married in E.C. West at Temple Beth Shalom, our marriage wouldn't have been legal that way. So we agreed to get married in the congregation where I grew up and where my father was the rabbi emeritus and my brother was the head rabbi.

Which brought me to why we were in LA for our last Valentine's Day as an unmarried couple: our wedding was the following evening. As far as why we were spending Valentine's babysitting my niece and nephew, well, we figured we had a honeymoon coming up where we'd have each other to ourselves and get to be mushy and romantic. My brother and sister-in-law, on the other hand, rarely had the chance to be alone as a couple. Plus, Eli and I didn't get to see my-soon to be our our-niece and nephew often, so we wanted to spend as much time with Stephen and Sarah as we could.

"Seth!" Eli called to me from somewhere down the hall.

I set down the book I'd been reading to the kids and walked in his direction. "Yes?"

He poked his head out of the bathroom and said, "There's something weird in the toilet."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know. Come look."

I stepped into the bathroom and followed him to the toilet. "Oh. Those are mini marshmallows," I explained.

He arched his eyebrows in question.

"Jed said they were using them to help Stephen learn how to pee in the toilet."

"Huh." Eli looked at the marshmallows and then nodded. "Like target practice? Smart."

"Yup. But if you need to go, maybe you should use the powder room next to the kitchen. I'm not sure how we're supposed to deal with flus.h.i.+ng or where to find new ones if these swirl down the drain."

"No problem. And based on the color of the water, I'm pretty sure they're not dealing dealing with flus.h.i.+ng at all." with flus.h.i.+ng at all."

"Uncle Seth!" Stephen's little voice rang out along with his footsteps. "You didn't finish the book." He turned the corner and ran into the bathroom, his sister hot on his trail.

"Sorry, buddy." I hunkered down. "I was just showing Uncle Eli your marshmallows."

"Oh!" He beamed. "I can make 'em move." He put his hands on his waistband in a flash and then he was pus.h.i.+ng down his pants.

"Cool!" Eli said, stepping next to him. "Let's see." He sounded just as excited as Stephen about the prospect.

I wondered whether I'd be walking into our bathroom sometime in the near future and finding it strewn with white b.a.l.l.s of fluff.

"I'm hungry!" Sarah cried. At least I think that's what she said. She was just over eighteen months old, so her words weren't always easy to understand.

"Let's go make you a snack." I reached for her hand, but she jumped away and shook her head furiously.

"No. I stay."

I cupped Eli's nape and gave him a light ma.s.sage. "You okay with both of them for a minute while I rinse off strawberries?"

"Sure. We'll be out as soon as we're done drowning the marshmallows, right, Stephen?"

"Yes!"

When I walked out of the room, Stephen was climbing up on the stool next to the toilet and Sara was digging through a plastic bin holding bath toys. It was a nice little domestic scene. A few minutes later, I had the strawberries rinsed, sliced, and scooped into little plastic bowls, so I went back to the bathroom to see if Eli needed help.

"Why is Stephen's underwear on his head?" I asked when I saw my nephew wearing his pants and s.h.i.+rt in the normal locations but seemingly confusing his briefs with a hat. Sarah was still occupied by her bath toys, which she was lining up on the edge of the tub.

Eli shrugged and propped Stephen up on yet another stool, this one in front of the sink. "Because he wanted to."

"That's your reason?"

He grinned at me and said, "It's the best best reason, old man." reason, old man."

I froze. He was right. And he was amazing. And the next day he was going to stand up in front of our family and friends and say he'd always be mine. My throat suddenly felt thick. "I love that about you."

"What's that?" He was helping Stephen rub his sudsy hands together. "My super-duper reasoning skills?"

"Those are pretty great. But I was thinking about the way you always find the joy in life." I smiled at him and ran my hand down his back. "I love how you never get constrained by how things are supposed to be."

He put Stephen's hands under the water and rinsed off the soap. "If I'd let myself worry about how things are supposed to be, I might not have gotten you." He turned off the tap, toweled off Stephen's little hands, and glanced up at me. "And how much would that suck?"

I gulped. "A lot."

"Oh, cool. Was that an offer?"

He lost me. "Huh?"

He picked Stephen up and gave him an airplane ride back to the ground, "vroom" noises and all.

"The sucking a lot." He waggled his eyebrows. "I a.s.sumed that was an offer for later tonight when we're back in the ho-" He frowned and looked at something off to my side. "What's Sarah chewing?"

I flipped around. "She was playing with her bath toys. I don't think any of them are small enough to go in her mouth, though."

I squatted down, scooped my niece into my lap, and said, "What's in your mouth, honey? Show Uncle Seth."

She squeezed her mouth shut and shook her heard.

"Sarah," Eli said, kneeling next to us. "I need to see what you're eating."

"No!" she shouted, giving Eli a front row view of her open mouth.

He paled, fell back on his b.u.t.t, and made a retching sound. "Don't swallow tha-"