“Your blush is darker on the right, Mads. Let me do it. Oh, God, do we have time to do a little contour?”
I imagined Madison wrestling the blush brush away from her closest friend.
“Who do you think these pictures are for anyway, Trinity? Me or you?”
Madison was near hysterics, maybe on the verge of her limit.
“It’s just that I’m so freaking proud of you because you’re my best friend and I love you!” Trinity intoned.
“I love you, too, Trin. It’s just the nerves. Do they make shorter platforms?”
I smiled at their hysteria-to near break up-back to best friends cycle, which I’d begun to recognize was the way they expressed their love for one another and processed their very different personalities.
When I looked up from tying my tie, Trinity was in the door frame of our bedroom pulling faces and making silent but wild gestures with her arms.
“The cake?” I mouthed. She shook her head. “The sparkling cider?” I said with no sound. Trinity shook her head vigorously again.
WTF?
“The gown?”
She nodded like a lunatic.
“Why can’t I say gown out loud? She knows she’s wearing it.”
Trinity threw her arms up and stormed back to the bathroom. I went to take the cap and gown down from the hinge on the outside of the closet. The blue and gold was regal and I was so fucking proud of Madison that my heart hurt. She was graduating with honors, an MBA under her belt while working full time. Her accomplishments meant so much to me, they felt like my own. On the chair next to the closet she’d discarded her black jeans, grey long sleeve t she wore under a short sleeved black Ramones shirt, her navy blue hoodie, her black beanie and some old dirty chucks.
I was suddenly overcome with the urge to stand up for Madison, to tell Trinity to let her be herself. I strode over to the bathroom, gown draped over my arm. Madison met me in the doorway, hair curled, bra and stockings the only clothes on. Her face was pink having been scrubbed clean of all traces of makeup and she was flushed, flustered and on the verge of tears.
“Here’s your gown. Wear whatever the fuck you want with it. You can go butt naked underneath for all I care. In fact, I’d probably prefer it. And if you want to go barefoot, fine! Or wear your work shoes—whatever. You do you.”
Trinity waved a white washcloth at us both.
“I surrendered, Duke. I was the one who took the make-up off. Mads is beautiful no matter what. My fashion dictator comes straight from love—that and a little reality television.”
Madison sighed and started in on one of her diatribes.
“On one hand, dressing up for special occasions is fun, and I agree about the photos for posterity.” She took the gown from me. “BUT, if you’re uncomfortable at the event, then it might ruin your whole experience and, when it comes to photos, isn’t a genuine smile like the very best thing to be wearing? And then there’s the falling to consider, like, I just want to get the diploma in my hand and make it across that stage alive—although Trinity just told me that they hand you a blank roll of paper tied with a bow and there’s nothing in there. The actual diploma they send you six weeks later in the mail—”
“Madison.” I put my hands on her shoulders and smiled into her worried face. “You’re nervous and that’s okay. You are going to be so great.” I told her.
She flung herself into my arms and buried her face in my neck.
The ring in my pocket called to me, but I knew I had to wait until after the party. I didn’t want to overwhelm her or take away from her hard earned moment. Although my moment was hard earned, too. I’d worked fifty hours a week straight through Christmas to afford the stone. I could have sold the car, but Madison loved it too much.
She’d taken over our books, our marketing and planning strategy at the Cherry Bomb and I had a client list longer than I could ever finish. We were booked clear into next year and there were plans for expansion.
My heart was fuller than I’d ever imagined possible and my life had upgraded from focusing on survival to planning an exciting future with the woman I loved.
Madison
I carried that blank roll of paper with me all through the party. I didn’t care if it wasn't the real diploma. I’d pulled off something I’d never imagined I could do and I felt on top of the world.
Duke and Ozzie had let Trinity plan the party and we held it in the shop. It felt like everyone I knew and loved was squished into that unique place that had become a second home to me: My dad and Gran, Trinity and her family, Ozzie and Pearl, Charlie Miller and the rest of Duke’s family. The Virgin Street Diner had catered and Perks had supplied carafes of coffee. The party was dry, but people had so much fun they didn’t even seem to notice. We popped corks on sparkling cider and toasted as our cups overflowed.