The World I Know

Everyone huddled together, cursing the rotten weather that had overtaken Jenny and Tom’s wedding. The tents and gazebos provided some shelter from the rain, but they couldn’t keep out the creeping cold. I was in the main gazebo, the one big enough to harbor the stage, the dinner tables, and the dance floor, clutching my thin jacket to myself for warmth.

Over the lawn of the community center, people stood in groups beneath the rented tent, keeping away from the edges to avoid the rain driven in by the occasional breath of wind. Although most of the guests were miserable, the bride was glowing, sitting at the sweetheart table with her new husband, chatting animatedly with the bridesmaid to her right.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” my father’s voice said, drawing everyone’s attention to the stage. “If I can have your attention, please, it’s time for the father-daughter dance.”

That was my cue. I made my way to the stage, rubbing my arms to dispel the goosebumps, noting where my mother was so I could keep an eye out for cues – sometimes she would want to cut the song short, sometimes she would let me know that I was too loud or too quiet. It was always best to have her in my peripheral, just in case.

The band began playing just as I’d reached the stage. It was perfect timing for me to start singing right as I reached the microphone.

[i]“When I think back on these times
And the dreams we left behind
I’ll be glad because I was blessed
To get to have you in my life

When I look back on these days
I’ll look and see your face
You were right there for me”[/i]

The bride was beautiful, of course. I watched as she danced with her father, a middle-aged man with a noticeable bald spot on the top of his head. They were both smiling, gently rocking to the music, the bride mouthing the words along with me.

[i]“I’ll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there you’ll be
And everywhere I am, there you’ll be”[/i]

Other couples were floating onto the dance floor now. One that caught my eye was little Lacey Talbot, a six-year-old whose father had passed away last year. Accompanying her was a large, muscular man I’d never seen before. He picked her up, holding her with one arm, and took her hand in a traditional dance position. Lacey was delighted, her face lit up in a wide grin as the man spun her around the dance floor in a rhythm far too fast for the mellow song.

I felt my throat constrict as I teared up, moved by the sweet gesture. I fought the emotion as soon as it appeared, but it was too late – my voice strained against the high notes of the next-to-last chorus. My mother had been making me practice this over and over, deliberating whether to lower the key or not for the high note in the bridge. She’d decided not to, but had threatened me with severe punishment if I backed down on the note, like I’d been doing. Her threats rang in my ears as the bridge began—

[i]“Cuz I always saw in you my light, my strength
And I wanna thank you now for all the ways
You were right there for me
You were right there for me,
Al—”[/i]

And that’s when it happened. Belting out the high note, my voice cracked, a flash of hot pain shooting down my throat. To keep the song going, I finished the word ‘always’ in a gentle falsetto, and continued to sing softly the last little chorus, which was mostly lower notes anyway.

I avoided my mother as I descended the stage, making a bee-line for the crowd by the dinner table. I managed to get a cup of coffee to sip on – it tasted disgusting, but the heat soothed my throbbing throat. The music for the mother-son dance began, a song my dad was singing, thankfully. I listened to the introduction by the edge of the gazebo, partially concealed by a wilting tree in a stone planter.

When my throat was feeling better, no longer hurting enough to justify drinking the coffee, I looked around quickly and then dumped the remainder of the coffee into the planter.

“I saw that,” said a voice just over my shoulder, making me jump. I spun on the spot, having to
grab onto the railing to keep my balance in the high heels I was wearing.

It was the man who had been dancing with Lacey. He was even bigger up close, looking down at me with a goofy sort of smile on his face. This close, I could see that his ears and lip were pierced. His suit jacket was unbuttoned to reveal a black band t-shirt with an obscure design on it in bright purple.

Noting the direction of my gaze, his grin turned sheepish and he began to button up the jacket. “Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. I thought the coffee sucked, too.”

“Well...thank you,” I said hesitantly, looking around for any sign of my mother. I wasn’t really supposed to talk to people when she wasn’t around, since she was terrified I was going to say something that might offend people. Or something like that.

“You sounded great up there.”

“Oh,” I responded, feeling my cheeks heat up. He was probably making fun of me for messing up so badly. “I usually don’t...I’ve never performed that song before, it just...got away from me a bit. I got a little choked up when I saw what you did for Lacey...” My face grew even hotter. “Not to say that it’s your fault! I mean, it was my fault. I should have—”

“Whoa,” he cut me off, suddenly laughing. “Relax, Tinkerbelle. I really thought you were great. I didn’t even notice if you messed up.”

“Well, then you...what did you just call me?”

“Tinkerbelle? Y’know, the dress.”

I looked down at my dress and blushed––the ensemble was rather Tinkerbelle–like, with its length and vivid green color. Now if only I had wings...

“Anyway, you were fantastic,” he continued, smiling a dimpled smile that made my heart do rather impressive acrobatics.

“Well, thank you. And you are...?”

“Matt. Matt Sanders,” he said, offering me his hand.

I bashfully accepted his hand, giving it a gentle shake before pulling away. “Harmony Grayson.”

“Grayson, as in Alicia?” piped up another man, who I hadn’t noticed walk up behind Matt. He was taller than Matt, a feat I wouldn’t have thought possible, and incredibly skinny. His hair was long, black and messy. His lip was also pierced, and I could see a tattoo peaking over the top of his gray shirt collar.

“Um, yeah. She’s my mom,” I admitted.

“Daughter of the wedding planner,” Matt mused, looking impressed. “I was wondering how you got this gig so young.”

“[i]I got friends in low places,[/i]” I sang quietly. Matt laughed and turned to his companion.

“Jim, this is Harmony Grayson,” he introduced me. “Harmony, this is my best friend, Jimmy.”

“I dub thee...Harmonica,” Jimmy said, using his index finger to tap first my left shoulder and then the right.

“Who’s got a harmonica?” asked yet another black-haired man. This one was a little chubbier than Matt and slightly shorter, his hair somewhere between Matt’s shorter locks and Jimmy’s shaggy mess. I leaned back against the rail, attempting to look around the group to see if my mother was nearby. If she saw me now, she’d probably freak out – she monitored who I socialized with carefully, and these three would [i]definitely[/i] not make her list of approved friends.

“I do,” Jimmy explained, grabbing my arm and pulling me to his side. If my cheeks got any hotter, they were likely to burst into flames. “This is my Harmonica.”

“Well, hi, Harmonica,” the other man laughed. “I’m Zacky.”

“Come, my Harmonica,” Jimmy insisted. “Come meet my other minions.”

“Actually,” I interjected, “I really need to find my mother. She’ll be wondering where I am.”

“You’re leaving already?” Matt pouted. “Come on, at least dance with me.”

“Oh, no,” I said nervously. “I mean, I’m sure you’re here with someone...”

“Nah, I know the groom. Just one dance?”

“Um...” Torn between the fear of my mother’s disapproval and the need to be polite, I deliberated for several seconds before saying, “Okay. One dance. But I don’t think I’m very good.”

“That’s okay,” he said cheerily, putting his thick arm through mine and pulling me out of Jimmy’s grasp. “I’m wearing steel-toed boots.”

I felt like a tiny little mouse compared to Matt as he pulled me close. I kept my gaze on the top button of his jacket, already embarrassed for the coming awkwardness. A new song had just begun to play, instrumental, but I knew the words and could hear them in my head as Matt put a hand on my waist and began to lead me in a slow dance around the floor.

[i]“Lying here with you
Listening to the rain
Smiling just to see
The smile upon your face

And these are the moments
I thank God that I’m alive
These are the moments
I’ll remember all my life
I’ve found all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more”[/i]

As I’d suspected, it was awkward. Although Matt seemed to know what he was doing, I wasn’t sure where to put my feet and we kept bumping bodies when I’d go the wrong direction.

“Put your leg between mine,” he said softly, his lips just above my ear.

“Excuse me?”

“Trust me.” His hand slid to the small of my back, giving me little choice as he readjusted me. Although I was still blushing like a maniac, I allowed him to steer me for a moment and realized he was right – this new position allowed me to feel which way he leaned, where he was about to go. Not to mention, he was incredibly warm and smelled surprisingly good.

[i]“I could not ask for more than this time together
I could not ask for more than this time with you
And every prayer has been answered
And every dream I have’s come true

Yeah, right here in this moment
Is where I’m really, really meant to be
Oh, here with you
Here with me”[/i]

I felt Matt’s chest vibrate as he said, “See? Not so bad, is it?”

“No,” I admitted, tilting my head up to meet his eyes for the first time. They were a soft hazel, almost golden in the warm light from all the candles and vintage lighting. “Thank you for asking me to dance.”

“Thanks for agreeing,” he chuckled.

“Out of curiosity, why did you ask me, though?”

His chest expanded as he took a slow breath, as though he had to think about it. “I don’t know. You seem nice, you’re pretty...and the way Zacky was looking at you was making me wanna punch him.”

“How was he looking at me?” I asked, suddenly alarmed. I attempted to twist around in Matt’s arms, but he held me tight.

“Relax,” said Matt again. “He just looked like he was about to ask you before I got the chance.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m sure you’re used to guys asking you to dance. I’m not surprised you turned me down at first.”

“Actually, I’ve never been asked to dance,” I said, thinking back on all the weddings I’d been to. “Not once.”

Matt frowned, tilting his head. “How is that possible?”

I shrugged in response. Matt shook his head and put his hand against my hair, ever-so-gently pushing my head back against his chest. It felt nice – being so close to someone, even if it was a stranger. The way he held me made me feel loved, even if that was ridiculous. After all, Matt didn’t love me. He didn’t even know me.

As the music wound down, Matt continued to hold me against him. And I wasn’t thinking about how that probably looked to the people who might be watching us. I wasn’t thinking that I’d just met this man or that we were in a very public venue. I was just thinking of how nice it felt to be held, his strong hands bracing me tightly against his body, his smile warm and freely given – I hadn’t had to earn it.

Although he wasn’t smiling at me when I looked up. His lips were parted, his expression one I didn’t recognize. His hand – the one that had been holding mine, came up to rest against my face.

I knew then what was about to happen, and I had absolutely no power to stop it. My body was on auto-pilot, leaning in as he did the same. Even though I had no experience with men – particularly handsome men that were attempting to kiss me – I felt a deep longing for what was about to happen.

However, seconds away from what was surely going to be the most amazing kiss ever, a shrill voice called out, “Harmony Leanne!”

I pushed away from Matt so fast that I nearly stumbled into another couple. My front half screamed in protest as the chilly air rushed between us. Matt looked shocked and a little hurt, but quickly understood when my mother appeared at my side.

My mom, in her late forties, was looking particularly severe today, her white-streaked brown hair pulled into a French twist, her dress a crisp gray with a straight neckline and no embellishments. Her shoes, Gucci stilettos, were even higher-heeled than mine, yet she still had to look up to meet Matt’s gaze.

“Oh, hello,” she said, as though she was just noticing him rather than having spotted him from across the gazebo. “I’m Ms. Grayson, the coordinator.”

“Matt,” he said, frowning slightly and looking to me for guidance. Since I was as clueless as he
was, I shrugged. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just complimenting your daughter on her performance. It was really great.”

“Perhaps, with practice, it will be great,” my mother sniffed. “We are a professional business, after all, and can’t settle for subpar. Come, dear. The Johnsons are just dying to meet you!” she said to me, putting an arm around me and turning me away from Matt. I glanced over my shoulder, offering him a regretful wave. He watched us go, Zack sidling up next to him as he did so. Then my mother steered me into a group and I lost sight of him.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Something happened when I hit the note. My throat really hurt.”

“It’s because you haven’t been keeping up with your singing routines,” said my mother sternly. “I’m not happy with this, and I’m [i]very[/i] unhappy about that boy.”

“It was just one dance. I...I thought it would be rude to say no.”

“And why were you talking to him in the first place?”

“He wanted to compliment me. Then he asked me to dance.”

“Well, next time you’ll have to stay closer to me or your father. We can’t have you running around [i]dancing[/i] with every man who glances your way. What will people think?”

[i]That I’m actually a human being,[/i] I thought dully.

“Anyway, dear,” she continued, oblivious to my growing gloom, “after the next song, it’s just a playlist, so we’re already packing up. Why don’t you go wait by the van, maybe even start up the heater?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said, accepting to keys that she dug from her gray clutch and handed to me.

“That’s my girl,” she said, touching my cheek for a moment, then turning and marching away. I sighed and trudged out of the gazebo, turning my head down to keep the rain from my eyes.
[i]Stop thinking about it[/i], I told myself, trying to banish the image of Matt’s concerned face from my mind. [i]He was just a guy you danced with. You’ll probably never see him or his friends again anyway, so stop obsessing over it. It’s over.[/i]

Notes