Back to You(31)

“What? What is it, dear?” For a little old lady, Sophie’s pretty quick on her Dr. Scholl’s. She’s at my side before I can even remove my hands from my mouth.

“I’ll take that. Please, I must have it.” I’m eager to get it off the wall and into my hands, even though there’s not another soul to be seen in the store. She leans over a box of old records and unhooks the plaque from the wall, blowing the dust off in a big cloud.

I nearly snatch it out of her hands before she has the chance to see what the big deal is about, but then I see the smile on her face.

“Yup! This is it,” I boast. “He is going to freak when I give him this. It’ll go perfect in the studio.” I can’t believe I found this. Who would’ve ever thought to needlepoint the words to the Beatles’ When I’m Sixty Four and hang it up?

“I’ve always loved the words to that song, dear. Very special.”

“And my husband is a major Beatles’ fan. In fact, we danced to… Wait do you have any old 45s for sale?” Because of his Beatles obsession I had a lesson in their discography. I knew that certain songs were put on 45s as singles with A and B sides. I knew the dates when each album released. I used to roll my eyes with all the trivia, but now, looking back, it made me happy to be so well-taught on something Declan loved.

Sophie shows me to a crate full of dusty records. I finger through them until I stop on the exact one I was hoping to find. “Wow! I cannot believe this! This place is like the buried treasure of antiques. I have to take Declan back here before we leave Newport.”

“Oh, I would love to meet the lucky man.” Sophie says with another smile. It’s evident where the deep creases around her mouth came from. She’s always smiling.

With the 45 and my needlepoint in my hand and happy butterflies dancing in my belly, I ask my new friend, “I think I have everything I need. Can you ring me up?”





I keep thinking back to how Mia told me she had the jitters on the morning of our wedding, five years ago. Today, I’m jittery as all hell—not because I’m nervous, but because I am one happy son of a bitch.

I’m not too proud to say cheesy shit like: sometimes people never find the one true love of their life. I, my friends, get to marry that person… again. And I might just plan on marrying her every five years just to prove a damn point. Our love is solid, strong, can withstand anything, and it will last until the day we die.

I make my way down the make-shift aisle of sea shells and tiny flowers to meet the minister. We had the chance to speak on the phone yesterday so that I could tell him a little bit about Mia and myself and give him an idea of what kind of ceremony we were looking for. At our first wedding, we went with the traditional vows, even though I’d opted to write our own. Poor Mia. She was uncomfortable with that because she felt that nothing she wrote could be as poetic as what I would come up with. She did have a point—I’d planned on making them the most unforgettable words I’d ever written, but I wasn’t about to upstage the bride on her wedding day so she won that small battle.

But today’s a different story. First of all it’s just us, so there’s no one to worry about impressing, and second of all—I have far too much to say to just rely on some dull repetitive verse made up a million years ago.

I greet the minister by shaking his hand as I take out the paper I’ve folded inside my jacket pocket. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice, Reverend. It means a lot to both of us.”

He smiles and nods his head. “It’s my pleasure. You and Mia sound very devoted to one another. There’s nothing I love more than uniting a beautiful couple.”

I straighten my tie and avoid eye contact with this man of God. For all I know he can see right through me, but I’m not about to tell him all about why we wound up here in the first place and how it had everything to do with us losing a bit of that devotion he’s talking about. It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve regained it ten times over. That ship has sailed and I hope it’s about to capsize—take that and suck on it!

“So,” the minister interrupts my thoughts, “when should we be expecting the lovely bride?”

I look down at my watch to check the time. “She should be here any minute. Although, knowing her she’ll be late, making everything look perfect.” She should only know that she doesn’t need all the make-up and primping to be the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen. I know now that I fell in love with her the moment I saw her on that campus lawn. I set my sights on her and never looked back and the only mistake I’ve ever made—okay, maybe there were two—since then was letting life get in the way of all the romantic things I was willing to do as a love-sick college kid. I make a mental promise to myself that from this day forward nothing will get in the way of the simple things like good night kisses, holding hands while walking in the mall, complimenting her when she looks nice and makes a great dinner, and singing to her whenever the hell I get the chance.