82 - Too Late

     "The wedding was beautiful," I said taking a drag of my cigarette and
blowing it into the wind.  "I snuck in late and sat up in the balcony next to the
organist.  She was kind enough to let me have a sip of her wine.  Yeah I was back a
little far, but view was so nice.  It was like looking at a big beautiful picture."
     She laughed and shook her head.
     "Keep going," she said as she walked back into the kitchen.
     It was a warm Saturday and the wind was blowing just right.  I flicked my cigarette
off the porch into the small sandbox and followed her into the kitchen. 
     "The ceremony was beautiful.  The bride looked incredible."  She snickered
but I just hung my head and kept going.
     "I was almost a little choked up," I said as she leaned against the
counter giggling.  "You have to realize that I was really far away from the alter
and she looked just like you..."
     "You kill me," she said throwing her head back in out and out laughter. 
"You're lucky I like you."
     "I really don't see what's so funny about this," I grumbled.  "Do you
know how much time I put into this?"  I waived the card and small present in the
air.
     She was wrapping dishes to pack into the 'Kitchen Box'.  The rest of the house was
already packed up and loaded onto the truck.
     "Apparently not enough to show up on time!" She quipped packing the newly
wrapped dishes into the 'Kitchen Box'.
     I had missed it by exactly one week.  I showed up late for the wrong wedding and
didn’t realize it until they mentioned the names of the bride and the groom.   I quickly
left and drove to her mothers house.  I showed up in time to be late for the moving
party.  I was dressed in my best 'single guy at the wedding who will get laid' outfit.  I
was ready for a night of drinking, dancing, and hitting on bridesmaids.  It looked like I
was in for an afternoon drinking in the pain, dancing around the truth, and getting hit
by the bride.  I was kind of pissed because I didn't even get a chance to bet on the
wedding.
     "Shit.  You're right.  Not much I can say or do about this now is there?" 
I set the present and the card down on the one open space on the counter top.
     "That's why I said you're lucky I like you."  She was in a pink sweat set
with a red polka dot bandanna and a pair of white sneakers.
     "You know when I was sitting there, before I realized it wasn't you that was
getting married, there was one thought that was running through my mind.  Is it too late
for me?"
     I had fallen head over heels for Terry but she was still in love with someone else. 
D was comfortably living in the sky a mile above me for the moment.  She was happy.
     "What are you kidding?  Look at me.  This just happened for me.  I wasn't even
looking for it.  This wonderful man just happened into my life and things clicked,"
she said carrying the Kitchen Box to her Volvo station wagon.
     I had met Kyle.  He was a good guy with a good job and a good head on his shoulders.
Most importantly he treated her like a human being.  She felt safe around him and we
(her friends) felt safe with him around her.
     "So what the hell is wrong with me?  I have a good job, I drive a nice car, and
I have a few dollars in the bank.  What's missing?"  I asked lighting a new American
Spirit.
     "God, my husband would kill me if he heard me saying this but you are still the
guy to bang at the party."  I stepped back a bit.  It was a compliment on a certain
level but in the grand scheme of things I knew what she meant.
     "Seriously?!?" I said feeling the weight of what she just said.
     "What was the first thing you said to Kyle when he suggested that you find a
nice girl and settle down?"
     "Let me think..." I started letting the smoke roll.
     "You said and I quote 'There are far too many pretty 22 year old bartenders and
waitresses for me to settle down now'."  She stood with her hands on her hips.
     “Hey let’s get it right, I like strippers, too.”
     “You are an asshole,” she said enunciating every word.  “This disappearing act is
getting old, too.  It’s been seven or eight months since any one has seen you.  And then
there was the Paris incident.”
     “Marrianne I…”
     “I know, I know, I know.  You never slept with Paris,” she mocked.  Deep in the back
of her mind she was convinced that I did and there was nothing I could say or do to
change that.  She was going to hold this against me for the rest of my life.
     "Look," I said realizing I was defending my past choices, "I'm sorry
I missed the wedding BUT I will not apologize for the journey I'm on.  Things are
changing for the better.  As much as I would like to change overnight I can't.  I won't. 
I'm enjoying the ride too much.  
     "Things are going well.  I think I'm on the right track," I could feel my
voice welling with pain, "but you have to realize that every once in a while I will
be the guy who sneaks in late and sits in the balcony.  The view is so nice.  It's
amazing how beautiful the big picture can be even if it's not the right one."

That Beautiful Black Man