Work Text:
2011
The news is slow to register. Natalie blinks at the words on her phone, dazed by the hope that fills her chest. She did not expect to be so moved by the correction of this particular injustice; it is one that she has never felt truly concerns her.
Marriage Equality Act has been signed by Gov Cuomo! It is officially legal for same sex couples to get married in NY! Congratulations everyone! :)
Nat has never gotten a text from Tai that features so many exclamation marks. It has been sent to the group chat with all their friends – Jackie, Van, Lottie and Laura Lee. Their reactions are instantaneous and overjoyed. Nat is chuckling at the stream of heart emojis from Lottie when her screen is filled by her contact picture for Jackie. It is one of Nat’s favourite photos of Jackie, where she stands in the park wearing a floaty yellow dress, a wide smile on her face and an ice cream cone in her hand.
She answers the call, already feeling fluttery.
“Hi beautiful,” Nat greets.
“Hi!” Jackie gushes. “Did you hear the news?”
“Yeah, I just saw Tai’s text. I don’t think she’s been that excited since Peter was born.”
Jackie laughs. “I think you’re right. It’s no wonder – she’s been calling Van her wife since she was a teenager! It’s got to be a relief for her.”
“A big relief,” Nat agrees warmly. “Congratulations, Jackie.”
“Oh,” Jackie says, sounding touched. “Congratulations, Nat. This is so huge. It’s hard not to get emotional.”
“Who says you shouldn’t get emotional?”
“Nobody,” Jackie admits.
Even through the phone, Nat can see her bashful smile. She feels emotional too, when she recalls how Jackie suffered through high school, alone in a world where her heart and her eyes seemed wrong.
Jackie had not known that her soccer team was packed with closeted lesbians. She could not have guessed that she would celebrate a day like today with those same girls, almost twenty years after they first gathered on the grass to play soccer together.
“We’ve come a long way,” Nat says softly. “The whole world has.”
“I know,” Jackie says. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Me neither.”
This is something that Nat carries during every moment spent away from Jackie: a distant longing to be returned to her. The ache is stronger today, with a new question hanging between them, one they have never discussed before.
Odd, when Nat thinks about how much Jackie loves weddings. It seems like something she would want to do: put on a ball gown and throw a party to celebrate her love for Nat. But Nat has never thought of herself as wife material. She has never considered a future where she wears a ring on her fourth finger.
Now, the possibility feels real. When Nat gets home that evening, Jackie spills out of the front door to greet her. She doesn’t wait for Nat to get out of the car; she ducks her head through the window and greets her with a flurry of kisses. Nat laughs and puckers her lips, accepting everything Jackie wants to give her.
“Hello,” Jackie coos. “Guess what?”
“What?” Nat asks, already grinning.
“Tai and Van are engaged! And Lottie and Laura Lee have both called me to ask for help with planning surprise proposals.”
“Shit, that sounds like a sitcom premise.”
“That’s what I thought!” Jackie exclaims, looking charmed. She steps out of the way as Nat opens the car door, then reaches for her hand on the way to the house.
“I guess we can expect a lot of wedding invitations in the future,” Nat says.
“I think so. How exciting! Weddings are so fun. And since all our closest friends are lesbians, we might finally get a chance to be in some wedding parties. Van will want you as her maid of honour, I’m sure.”
“Do both brides get a maid of honour?”
“Of course they do!”
Inside, they walk to the kitchen so that Nat can wash away the grease that clings to her fingers. She spends most days with her hands in the innards of cars, letting grit build under her fingernails. It might be her least favourite part of the job, even if she likes the routine of coming home and getting clean.
“How was work?” Jackie asks, as Nat scrubs at her hands.
“Good. But I was pretty distracted,” Nat says, looking up to smile softly at Jackie.
“Me too,” Jackie says. “I couldn’t wait to talk to you about everything.”
“Yeah?” Nat asks, cautiously.
“Yeah. I realised we’ve never really talked about it before.”
“I guess not.”
Nat knows she’s being evasive, but she’s worried about saying the wrong thing. She can easily picture Jackie planning a special proposal, like Lottie and Laura Lee – or wanting one, from Nat. She is very aware of all the ways she could disappoint her.
“So, then… Can we talk about it?” Jackie asks. “How do you feel about marriage?”
It’s quiet, for a moment, as Nat dries her hands on the nearest tea towel and tries to assemble an answer. She leans back against the counter and lets out a heavy breath.
“Marriage is complicated,” Jackie adds. “I know that. I’m not hoping for a certain answer. I just want to know how you feel.”
She looks at Nat with transparent adoration, her enormous eyes shining with sincerity. Every fretful lurch inside Nat goes still. She knows Jackie. She knows Jackie only wants what is right for both of them.
“I mean, I never saw myself getting married,” Nat admits. “It’s not like I had any good examples, growing up. All the marriages I saw were miserable.”
“Me too,” Jackie sighs.
“And, you know, it’s a piece of paper. We don’t have to get married to know what we have.”
Jackie hums. “Right. We know this is forever.”
Promises of forever no longer bring Nat feelings of dread. Her home has been with Jackie for ten years; in that time, they’ve faced everything that could drive them apart, and come out on the other side as a stronger couple.
Nat takes Jackie’s hand and curls their fingers together.
“What do you think about marriage?”
“I think it’s a nice concept,” Jackie says. “Making a lifelong commitment to the person you love. Promising to hold them in sickness and in health… It’s beautiful. It’s romantic. But you’re right that it’s different in reality. In my family, marriage was a performance. As long as the Christmas cards looked nice, it didn’t matter how resentful or unhappy you were.”
She traces Nat’s knuckles with her thumb, a pensive look on her face. A hint of desire. Nat senses more, anticipates it with a knowing smile.
“But?” she prompts.
Jackie lifts her gaze, flutters bashful lashes. “But… I love you. We’ve built a life together. It might be nice to have a day to recognise that, and celebrate it.”
Put that way, Nat sees the appeal. She feels it melting within her, changing the weight of her convictions, offering visions of garters and cake.
“I’d love to see you in a wedding dress,” Nat says.
“I would love to wear one!” Jackie says, making Nat laugh. “What about you? You would be a beautiful bride.”
Nat shakes her head, feeling embarrassed. “Holy shit. I can’t see it. Me, a blushing bride…”
The one in white, virginal and pure. Walking down the aisle with a demure smile and a bouquet of flowers, towards a person who intends to devote their life to her.
Said person exists. She is now staring at Nat with a furrowed brow.
“Are you kidding?” Jackie says. “Why not?”
“I don’t know…” Nat mumbles. “I was the school slut, remember? The kind of girl you don’t take home to your mother? Not the kind of girl you marry.”
Jackie scoffs and manages to make it sound affectionate. She rakes her eyes over Nat, looking wistful, looking longing.
“Oh, sweetie,” she sighs. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re exactly what anyone would want in a wife.”
This simple sentence has a surprising effect on Nat. Her stomach drops, her heart jolts. She feels her eyes growing wide, looking at Jackie, looking at her.
She tries to disguise her lust with a snort. “Yeah? What is that, exactly?”
Jackie seems pleased by this question. She lifts a hand to fit Nat’s chin between her pointer and her thumb. “This, for starters. Your perfect face.”
“That’s fucking vain,” Nat mutters, hoping Jackie won’t notice her racing heartbeat.
“I don’t make the rules,” Jackie says, grinning. She moves her touch higher, fanning her fingers over Nat’s temple. “There’s also this. You’re quick as a whip. Clever and funny. Total wife material.”
Jackie moves her touch lower, over Nat’s throat, her collarbones; she passes her breast to fan her fingers over the left of her chest.
“This is what’s most important,” Jackie says, more solemn now. “Your compassion. Your strength.”
“Jackie,” Nat murmurs, overwhelmed.
Jackie nods with insistence, giving Nat a wobbly smile. “I understand if you don’t want to get married, but don’t base your decision on what some morons said about you in high school. You’re beautiful and wholesome. You’re like a dream wife.”
Nat looks away, chuckling in disbelief. She recalls the vitriol in her father, the rants he would go on, telling Nat that she was worthless, unloveable, that nobody would want to marry a whore. She was destined to die alone, he told her.
It seemed sensible to tell herself that such a fate suited her, even as the effort of carrying it broke part of her spirit. Jackie spent a long time stitching her back together. Now she stands in the kitchen with her, touching her heart in more ways than one. Cherishing her with force, with joy.
“My dad said nobody would ever want to marry me,” Nat says quietly.
Jackie leans in close. “He was wrong. He didn’t know who he was talking about. He didn’t know anything.”
Well discerned, Nat thinks. As much as she’s agonised over her father and the scars he left on her, she thinks this assessment summarises him well. He was twisted. He was wrong about the world. He let it mould him into a monster that Nat could never mimic; Jackie thinks that Nat is too pure to wield violent hands.
The longer she lives, the harder she tries, the more she sees the truth in that.
“You’re right,” Nat says.
“As usual,” Jackie quips.
Nat laughs. “As usual. I guess I’d have to ask someone else to walk me down the aisle.”
Jackie smiles warmly. “No. If we get married, we’ll walk down the aisle together. Like we do everything else.”
For the first time in her life, Nat understands her fate. She trusts it. She opens her arms to what waits for her, unafraid of the ending.
Their wedding is small scale, but their venue is grandiose. A ballroom with high ceilings and ornate plaster, covered in paintings of cherubs in clouds. Depictions of heaven. Nat finds the scenery appropriate. As is the gold that glints in the crystal chandelier, raining light on the crowd. The colour reminds Nat of Jackie: her eyes, her hair, her soul.
Jackie wears an ivory gown, floral lace layered over tulle. There are pearls and sapphires woven through her dark, wavy hair. Her face, as beautiful as ever, glows with joy. When Nat first saw her standing at the end of the aisle, waiting like a princess for her true love, she thought that she might weep. Instead, she took her place, a knight in shining silk, wearing a draping dress the colour of a pearl.
Since that moment, she hasn’t been able to look away from Jackie. Really, she hasn’t been able to look away from Jackie since the evening that she stood with her outside an Indian restaurant, smoking together in the streetlight.
Nat keeps turning to Jackie, a flower seeking the sun, reaching out with eager petals. Jackie answers every quiet call; she accepts Nat’s hands with smiles and kisses. Over the course of dinner, they nudged their chairs together so that their shoulders brushed as they ate. Jackie keeps tilting her head into Nat’s and murmuring things to her in a gentle voice. In a way, even at a party full of their friends, they are still in their own bubble. Safe and sound.
“I’m not sure if the brides are even listening to me,” says a voice – Van, standing at the table with a microphone in her hand. “Fair enough, I guess. It’s their day, they can be as rude as they want.”
Laughter rings through the room. Nat sits upright in her chair and rolls her eyes at Van. Jackie looks more sheepish, smiling apologetically at the occupants of the table.
“Oh, there they are,” Van jokes. “Hi, ladies. I was just recalling the day that I found out that Natalie was in love with Jackie. I would say it was a good month before either idiot made a move.”
More laughter among the crowd; Jackie whirls on Nat with a radiant grin. She relishes telling and hearing stories of the time before they got together, when they were getting to know one another better, slowly uncovering feelings they kept discreet. Their friends like to make fun of them for the months they spent dancing around the truth, but Jackie insists it was romantic, and Nat can’t help but agree.
“Nat came to visit my store one day,” Van continues. “She was in a bad mood, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She was quiet, more listening than talking. Then I asked about Jackie, and her head snapped up. She looked a bit like she’d been hit over the head, all dazed and confused. But her eyes were shining. It was a feeling I knew all too well, but I’d never seen it in Nat. She gushed until she realised how obvious she was being, and then she was gruff again. But the damage was already done. I knew that she had a crush on Jackie Taylor. Embarrassing, I know.”
“Who gave her the microphone?” Nat complains, though she does enjoy the way that Jackie giggles in delight at Van’s barb.
“I wasn’t close enough to either of them back then to know how Jackie felt about Nat, but I could imagine the kind of couple they would be. Annoyingly attractive. Painfully sweet. Completely devoted.”
Not for the first time today, Nat is floored by emotion. For an odd twenty years, she drifted through the world with detachment. She can hardly believe she has found herself at this table, where her wife turns to her with glassy eyes, shaking with happiness to share a life with her.
“Some people were surprised when Nat and Jackie first got together – mostly because they weren’t close in high school. But it made sense to me as soon as I thought about it for more than a second. They’re the two gentlest souls I’ve ever known. I think it’s beautiful that two people like that have come together to take care of each other.”
Van looks triumphant, and for good reason. Jackie is crying and Nat is on the brink. She reaches to hold more of Jackie, flinging her arms around her in her understanding that Van is right.
They love each other in the tender way that tender-hearted people love. They are cut from the same soft cloth, and they have threaded a life out of it, forgiving the pricks the needles left as they went. The blanket now keeps them both warm.
After Van’s speech, Jackie needs a moment to compose herself. Nat stands with her in the bathroom, carefully wiping a piece of toilet paper beneath her eyes. It feels odd to stand in shadows while wearing such fine dresses; they both shimmer and sparkle in the dim lighting.
“My makeup is probably a disaster,” Jackie sniffles.
“Not at all,” Nat murmurs, tilting Jackie towards the mirror. “Look. You’re perfect.”
“You have to say that. I’m your wife.”
“Yeah, and you’re perfect. I have good taste.”
Jackie meets Nat’s eyes in their reflection and gives her a wobbly smile. Nat smiles back, turning her around so she can see her affection up-close. She touches Jackie’s face, running her thumb over her cheek.
“I love you,” Jackie says, softly. “Sometimes I worry you don’t even know how much I love you.”
“Hey, of course I know,” Nat says. “It’s how I feel about you.”
She leans in and kisses her, makes it tender and slow. She puts her whole self into it, moves with fervour she did not have before she fell in love with Jackie. Pulling away, she realises that she shares Jackie’s concern; there are nuances to this love that are difficult to articulate. Does Jackie know all the good she has done for Nat? She built a home where Nat learned to trust, and feel, and love.
The eyes that gaze at Nat are full of familiar love. Trust. Understanding. Nat lets her worry wilt. Anything Jackie doesn’t already know, she is sure to learn in the decades ahead of them.
“Are you ready to get back out there?” Nat asks.
Jackie nods. Nat takes her hand and opens the door.