Page 89 of Bronson

“Who gives this woman to be wed today?” he asks.

“I do,” Bronson says proudly.

There’s a wave of laughter in the crowd.

The man smiles and says, “Welcome to all who have gathered here this day to share in this marriage ceremony of Bronson Bachman and Paige Silverman.”

I can’t wait to lose my last name. My last tie to my deadbeat parents.

The preacher continues. “These words spoken today are sacred, and celebrate a lasting bond that already exists between Bronson and Paige, who have already joined their hearts together and chosen to walk together on life’s journey. Today, as Bachmans, we bear witness to the pledge of a sacred, eternal bond. One that may not be broken.”

Beside me, Bronson breathes the word, “Amen.”

“Those of us in attendance today are present to witness a statement of lasting love and commitment between Bronson and Paige. The ceremonial union of two people in marriage, in its primordial form, is as ancient as our very humanity and yet is still as fresh as each day’s sunrise. The commitment of love between them is more than a declaration of love. It is a promise to remain loyal, faithful, and in service to one another until the day that death parts the two of them.”

He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Everyone gathered here today was invited to this ceremony because you have played a special role in Paige and Bronson’s lives. You are present at this ceremony to celebrate their marriage and to witness their vows of love to one another. Will all of you, gathered here to witness this union, do all in your power to love and support this couple now, and in the years ahead? If so, please respond, we will.”

A resounding, “We will,” rises from the crowd.

“And Paige and Bronson, have you come here today with the intention to be legally joined into the unique bond that is a Bachman marriage? Do you pledge to remain faithful, loyal, and adhere to the ways of the Bachman family?”

My eyes lock with Bronson’s. In unison, we declare, “We do.”

“Then let us witness the exchange of vows. Bronson, please repeat after me. I, Bronson, take you, Paige, to be my wife; to have and to hold, from this day forward; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death.”

His eyes search mine. He speaks with eloquence, sincerity as he proclaims his vow. Tears are brimming in my eyes.

“And now, Paige, please repeat after me. I, Paige, take you, Bronson, to be my husband; to have and to hold from this day forward.”

My voice shakes as I speak. “I, Paige, take you, Bronson, to be my husband; to have and to hold from this day forward.”

“I vow to accept your headship over our family. To obey your word. To accept your discipline.”

There are hushed whispers of approval from a few of my bridesmaids. They hadn’t blinked an eye when I’d told them about Bronson’s old-fashioned arrangement. Ms. Beeman had declared, “Old-fashioned? Please! That’s how it was in our day, and it worked!”

My hands tremble in his as I repeat the words, “I vow to accept your headship over our family. To obey your word. To accept your discipline.”

Bronson’s thumbs stroke the backs of my hands. His eyes gaze at me with love, pride, and desire.

“For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death.”

I say the words. And I mean them. From deep within my being.

We exchange rings. Matching platinum bands from Bachman’s. The date we met etched within the backs of them. His fingers linger on mine when he slips the band over my finger, his whispered words declare, “I love you.”

“Bronson and Paige, inasmuch as you have pledged yourselves, each to the other, and have declared the same in the presence of this company by the exchange of vows and the giving and receiving of rings, by the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!”

Applause, catcalls, and hoots rise from the rooftop as we kiss.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Bronson Bachman!”

We kiss again, his arms wrapping around me. His hand squeezes my ass for all the world to see.

Reminding them I belong to him.

As he turns us to face the crowd, a smile stretches across my face so wide, it hurts.