House of Sand

"Whatever you need, dear. Just let me know if I can do anything."

Anna wiped my eyes delicately with a tissue. "This isn't going to go well, Anna. I know my parents, and they're going to get sick at the idea." Before Anna could speak, I went on, "but it has to be done. We can't get married in secret. You're right. It's ridiculous."

"Have hope," she proclaimed. "You never know. Maybe they'll be more accepting than you think. But no matter what happens," she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her love, "I'm here for you. And I'm so proud of you." She kissed my cheek.

"Thank you," I murmured.

* * *

As such, the day came. My parents and I shared a take-out dinner in my apartment on Sunday evening. I had deserted the apartment for months, waiting for the lease to expire. Soon, I'd begin packing and moving out. But I could get some use out of it still.

My chest shuddered throughout the entire meal. My palms were as wet as the sea. Each time Mom or Dad asked a question, I jumped to answer so as to avoid suspicion. The opportunity for me to reveal my secret presented itself numerous times, but I failed to act. Dad even asked if I was feeling well, stating that I "looked ill." He was right. I felt as if I was simultaneously about to vomit and explode.

I could hardly eat; I mostly succeeded in pushing my food around with a fork. And this gut-wrenching feeling worsened as time went on. My hands and legs started numbing as if they had fallen asleep. I don't think I can do this.

"Where did you order this food?" Mom wondered.

"What?" I practically screamed.

Mom and Dad flinched backward in surprise. Mom repeated, "where did you order this food? It's good."

"Just a place down the street," I huffed.

Mom queried, "what is wrong with you tonight, Maddie? You look terrible."

Anna's name was on my tongue, and I needed to declare my love, but I could not speak. I sank in my chair and instead grunted, "just not feeling too well."

"Maybe we should head out," Dad suggested. "Need any medicine or something? We can swing by the store and get you something."

I replied in the negative. The moment nearly slipped away as my parents finished their food and brought their dishes to the kitchen. Mom even helped load the dishwasher. But finally, Mom suggested, "well, thanks for having us to dinner, Maddie. We'll leave you to rest."

"See you next week," Dad farewelled, kissing my head. I wondered if he could feel my skin's dampness and warmth.

"Wait," I blurted, halting my parents, who had made it almost to the door. "I have something to say." My hands shook as if I had been drunk on Anna's whiskey.

I sat in silence until Dad asked, "well, what is it?"

"I'm getting married," I howled. "In a few months." The truth shattered my parents' minds like a thin plane of glass.

"What?" Dad shouted. He glared at me, bewilderment growling behind his stare.

"I'm getting married," I repeated, looking toward the wall.

"When did this happen?" Mom shined. "Who is he?" She reversed, "congratulations, of course. But who is he? I didn't know you were--" Mom's countenance melded from confusion to excitement, and back to confusion.

"Are you sure you're not moving too fast with him?" Dad critiqued. "How long have you been dating?"

"About seven months," I admitted.

"Seven months?" They yelped in tandem. Mom questioned, "how come you haven't told us about him in seven months?"

"Because--" I looked toward the wall again and squeezed the seat of the chair with my fists. I rocked backward and forward tensely. "Because--" I paused in horror, my parents leaning forward in anticipation of my answer. Their mouths hung halfway open, dumbfounded.

"Because why?" Dad pushed, walking closer.

"Because it's--"

"What?" Mom probed, the pitch of her voice increasing. "Because what?"

I felt as if I was going to pass out. I was dizzy and my sweaty palms were the least of my concerns. I'm going to have a heart attack in my living room at twenty-five years old. I mustered my courage; the only way I managed to continue was by remembering Anna's advice.

"Because it's not a man," I said bluntly and loudly. "Because it's not a man," I repeated in a soft murmur.

The silence felt like a knife in my neck. My parents stared at me as if I had murdered a family of four. "W-- what do you mean?" Mom's expression dwindled to sorrow.

"I'm marrying a woman," I answered, my throat dry, my voice hard.

"That doesn't make any sense," Mom scolded, her countenance now one of anger. "You can't marry a woman, Maddison. What are you talking about?"

"I can," I tapped the table with my finger. "And I am." Mom sat back in the chair, no longer in a hurry to leave.

"What are you talking about?" Mom interrogated. What -- who have you been hanging around that would fill your head with such a silly idea?" Dad stood stiff in silence, his tongue arrested by his shock.

"This is not peer pressure, Mom. I love this woman and have decided to marry her."

She shook her head and squeezed her hands together. "Clearly, you haven't thought this through, Maddison."

"How can you say that, Mom?" I shrieked. "I've definitely thought it through. Loving this woman has been eating at my mind for such a long time that--" I stopped myself, realizing I was raising my voice. I returned to a tone of forced calmness, "it's not a spur-of-the-moment decision. It's a life-altering decision that I've thought much about -- probably as much as you and Dad thought when you considered marriage thirty years ago."

"You're not marrying a woman, Maddison," Mom scoffed. She looked at her husband for support, but he shrugged in silence.

"I am," I defended, my face reddening. I spoke with urgency as if I were trying to spill everything at once. "We bought a house in Virginia. Well, we're trying to, anyway. We've put in an offer. And you're welcome at the wedding. We haven't picked a date yet but--"

"No!" Mom hollered, clapping once. "You're trying to buy a house? You're not thinking right, Maddison. Do you realize how big of a financial commitment that is? And you're going to share it with this woman? Are you sure she's not trying to trick you or something?"

"No, Mom," I fumed. "She's a wonderful person."

Mom ranted, "and I've been waiting your whole life to go to your wedding, but it's going to be a real wedding."

I fought to hold back my tears, but it was no use. I argued through my cloudy eyes and snotted nose, "it is a real wedding. This is real. This is not some fantasy or phase. It's my life."

Mom tightened her lips and spoke through her teeth, "it's not what God wants." I knew she would say that at some point, and what could I do in response? How can you win an argument against someone who believes they have divine permission? But that didn't stop me from protesting.

I shrugged with my palms outward. "Do you know the mind of god?"

"It's in the Bible," she cited, yelling loudly.

"What's the verse?" I urged. "Can you name it?"

"Wh-- I don't know it off of the top of my head," Mom admitted, shaking her head, looking at the floor. "But it's there," she professed. A light went off in her head. "Genesis," she said proudly. "God made man and woman."

"You're right," I leveled. "But he also said that man is to rule over women. Genesis 3:16: 'Your desire shall be contrary to your husband, but he shall rule over you.'"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Mom berated.

I continued, "if you own one verse, you have to own them all. Or if not, then don't chastise me for violating a couple of useless commandments. According to the book," I pointed at Dad, "he is your ruler. Instead, you insist that you both have access to the bank -- that you make decisions in your house -- that you have a voice in your marriage. But that is not what god intended, is it not?"

Mom sputtered like a car without fuel. Dad finally spoke, "marriage is between a man and a woman, period. We'll have no more of this kind of talk. Tell this woman you're not interested. Whatever lies she's been telling you are doing you no good." His voice was calmer than Mom's, but his words were equally hurtful. I wondered if he might side with me, or at least be more lenient than Mom, but his answer was like a shotgun to the head.

I cried, quite obviously now, with no attempt to hide my discomfort.

"We love you, Maddie," Mom decreed. "But we don't agree with this. I thought you knew that. Is there something you've been watching that is encouraging you to do this?"

"No!" I exclaimed, slapping the table with an open palm. "I'm not confused or misled. I've never been more certain in my life."

Mom shook her head ostentatiously. "I just don't understand why you're choosing this." Her voice was now at its peak volume and timbre. "Don't you want to be happy with a family of your own?"

"Ah--" I stopped dead, my mind strangling itself into knots. I squeezed a fork so tightly that it bent. Those words were the most hurtful of them all. "Don't you want to be happy?" How dare she. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was tremble. Every time a word came to my voice, my throat stifled it before it could reach my tongue.

Mom continued, her voice now nearly at a whisper. "Why are you doing this, Maddie? You've got to give us some sort of explanation."

"I have given you an explanation," I corrected. "And why am I doing this? Because she's Adoring, Brilliant, Breathtaking, Ingenious, Glorious, Amazing, Invigorating, Loving, Radiant, Angelic, and, Youthful. -- She's perfect."

Mom repeated, "we love you Maddie, but we want--"

"Goodbye," I muttered, my voice bleak.

"What?" Mom scorned, hardening her eyes.

"I said leave!" I exclaimed, standing and gesturing toward the door.

"Come on," Dad tugged at Mom's shirt. "Let's go."

"But this--"

Dad interrupted, "nothing's going to get solved tonight. Everybody needs to just think. That's all -- just think. Let's go."

They stormed out of my apartment, leaving their words to fester. I drove to Anna's, and she need not ask me how the night went; my red-faced misery spoke plainly enough. Her body drooped as I dragged my feet into the apartment.

"Come here," she hugged. I tried to hold back, but I could not. I howled into her ear. More tears, more snot. My stomach buckled with each breath, my vocal cords weak from crying. Anna patted me on the back, "it's okay. I'm so sorry for making you do this." Her voice was delicate, my anguish spilling onto her.

"It's-- it's not your fault," I bumbled like a crying child. "It had to be done. I'm just -- I'm so disappointed. I want -- I wanted it to go well and it didn't." I inhaled shudderingly over and over. "They didn't even ask your name. They didn't even want to know."

"Shhhhh," she hushed. "It's okay." She rocked me back and forth in an awkward dance.

"I just want to go to bed," I mumbled.

"That's fine," Anna agreed. "Whatever you need."

"I want to cuddle you in bed. No sex -- I just want to hold you."

"Of course, sweetie."

We stopped hugging and looked to one another. "This doesn't change anything, though," I tried to smile. "I still love you."

"Of course," she declared. "Nothing can change that."

I staggered to the bathroom and ate three melatonin pills. There was no sleeping tonight without extra help. I called to Anna, "what if they don't come to the wedding?"

Anna came to the doorway and answered calmly, "then they don't come. They still love you. You have to remember that."

"But they don't support me," I returned.

Anna's lips tightened and she dipped her head. "But it's out of your control and there's nothing you can do."

I kissed her softly on the lips. "Thank you, honey. You mean so much to me."

"You too," she admired. We climbed into bed and Anna cradled me. I breathed, "what do you want our wedding to look like?"

"Whatever you want, honey," she replied.

"Nothing too extravagant," I added, joy cautiously returning to my voice. "Not too expensive, either."

"I agree," she rubbed my shoulder and spoke near my ear. "What if it's just our friends? We can cater a dinner for twenty or thirty people."

"Yeah," I mumbled, "your family, some friends, and coworkers. Not a crowd. That's fine with me. Should one of us wear a wedding dress? Or maybe both of us?"

She clung to me more snuggly. "Anything you want, sweetie. I'm not picky."

My heart fluttered with bliss. Anna's love drowned my sorrow. I fell asleep in her arms as she burrowed herself into me. "But I do have good news," she murmured. "The seller accepted our offer. We bought a house."

* * *

Anna and I waited alone in the conference room of the lawyer's office. Its hardwood floors and high ceiling meant one's voice could echo for years before it faded. But we were silent. Anna tapped the table lightly with one finger and I wobbled my legs back and forth. I found myself looking at my twiddling fingers, and from time to time, around the room and out the window. One wall had a flatscreen television, upon which was an image of Anna and me in front of our house with the caption "Congratulations: Anastasia and Maddison." There was a fireplace against another wall. Upon its mantle was an antique clock, ticking repetitiously with each passing second. The clock's tempo seemed to slow as time passed, and the anticipation within me spread viciously like an all-consuming fire.

The clock's ticking was soon drowned out by the reverberating clunks of high heels against the hallway floor. As the steps became louder, both Anna and I sprung upward. The lawyer came into the room and announced, "you're early." We stood to shake her hand, and I felt like I transferred some of my sweat to her.

Anna commented, "didn't want to be late."

"My name is Aliyah," she introduced. "I'm the one you've been emailing quite a bit." She was a thin woman with poofy hair. "Can I get you anything to drink while we wait for Michelle?"

I looked to Anna who shook her head. "No thanks," I replied.

Aliyah tightened her waved them in the air. "Are you excited?"

"Very," Anna answered, widening her eyes. "Nervous, but most definitely excited."

"Michelle tells me you're getting married soon too."

Anna and I nodded in tandem. Anna wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

"Then this is a big year for you, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Anna glittered. "Best year ever, too." Anna looked at me and smiled alluringly. I melted into her touch.

We sat at the table again.

"Hey everybody," Michelle greeted as she strolled into the room. She was holding a plastic-wrapped basket. "It's not much," she set the basket on the table. "But I like to give my clients a little housewarming gift at closing."

"Aww," I muttered. "That's sweet of you."

"Thank you, Michelle," Anna thanked. The basket had a collection of household items, ranging from dish soap to a hefty gift card to a local restaurant.

"I guess we can get started," Aliyah said bluntly. "I'm sure you ladies are ready to get on with it. Unfortunately, this part of the process is quite boring, but it's necessary."

My heart raced; I was moments away from co-owning a home with my love. Aliyah sat at the head of the table. Michelle sat her opposite while Anna and I sat next to each other clenching hands. We could not be pulled apart. Aliyah droned on through page after page of legal documents. After signing my name over fifty times, my skin was crawling and my hands were antsy. Each signature drew us closer to our home.

In less than an hour, there was one final document to sign. This last stroke of the pen would make our home-ownership a reality, cemented in legal contract. But the bond of our love was stronger than any pact. Anna signed first, her hand slowly spreading the ink along the line like a snail crawling against the Earth. I followed, dragging the pen delicately in the same fashion. The lawyer smiled, "congratulations!"

Michelle shouted, "yay!" She raised her arms into the air and performed a miniature dance.

The lawyer slid the key across the table. "You are the newest owners of a home in Virginia," she smiled. "It's all yours." Anna took the key between her fingers and clutched it before passing it to me. The key was light, but it held the weight of everything I had ever dreamed -- a lover with whom I could share my life.

We flew out of Washington faster than an animal escaping a predator. Our bodies boiled with anticipation as we drove down the highway. After the final turn, there it stood -- it looked different now that it belonged to us. Even the birds rejoiced as we strutted up the driveway. We burst inside and threw our arms around one another in a sloppy kiss. Without furniture, the house was empty. But our love filled the void, transforming our house into a home.

* * *

- August -

The beginning of my second year of teaching was a lighter weight upon my chest. I knew how to better do my job, even if only slightly. We reported to work in late August for the usual workdays-before-school activities. But my life had changed beyond what I could have imagined in just a year.

One afternoon, we gathered in the cafeteria for a catered luncheon provided to teachers. As usual, Jim, Becca, Ellie, and I sat together in our little clique. But Anna was conspicuously absent.

"Where are you going for your honeymoon?" Becca ogled.

"Nowhere in particular," I answered. "We're going home."

"Home?" Ellie chirped. "Nothing fancy? That's not much of a honeymoon."

I bantered, "if you just took on over a quarter-million in debt, you'd do the same."

I could see the gears turning in Ellie's head. "Plus," I added, "the point of a honeymoon is to be together, right? Does it matter where you are?"

"It most certainly does not," Jim interjected awkwardly as the only man at the table.

I jittered thinking of what Anna and I might do after the wedding -- and before. What sense would it make to vacation somewhere else when all we would do is stay in bed, especially after spending a fortune on a house? "I'm so excited for you," Becca squeaked. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I replied. "And you're coming to the wedding, right?"

"Absolutely, yes," she declared.

"Me too!" Ellie jumped.

We looked toward Jim, and he nodded in affirmation. "If I'm invited," he said.

"Of course, you are," I said obviously. "You all are. But we've decided that it's going to be small. Only a handful of people -- like twenty."

"Just a few friends and family?" I capsized in my chair thinking about how my family would not be in attendance.

"Yeah," I cringed, too distraught to tell anyone about my parents' reaction.

"Where is it?" Becca wondered.

"At Anna's parents' farm," I revealed. "Just south of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. About an hour and a half away. We'll give you official invitations soon enough."

"That sounds nice," Ellie commented. "Are you going to have food?"

"Seriously, Ellie?" Becca groaned.

"What?" Ellie replied innocently. "I was just wondering if they're going to have anything to eat."

Becca instructed, "you show up. They have what they have."

Ellie ignored Becca. "I can help decorate if you want. I decorated a wedding before in Atlanta."

I shook my head, "we're going to keep it simple. Yeah, we'll have a dinner before, but not much decoration. We'll rely on nature to be beautiful enough. Just a few chairs and a piano. Maybe some flowers too."

"Piano?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," I buzzed, thinking of Anna's performances at La Mer. "Anna's going to play something for me. But she said it's a secret and won't tell me the song."

"That's cool," Becca gleamed. "I can't wait."

* * *

At home, Anna and I snuggled in our bed. "I'm curious," she breathed, stroking my cheek with her finger.