Getting married the first time around thrilled Amanda Hanson. As an eighteen-year-old sophomore at the University of Wisconsin, she imagined that marrying Mike Morrison “because he asked” might be the most profound thing she could do: Simultaneously obedient and rebellious, it elevated to her to adulthood and set her free from her terrible mother.
She was washing test tubes in the science lab when Mike, who was a popular senior, said, “Let’s blow everyone’s mind and get married.” Amanda giggled. But then she cleared her throat and waited until he looked her in the eye. His pale, round face, which was usually sharpened by a crooked grin, bobbed from side to side. His deep-set eyes blinked with anxiety. She had never seen him like this. Not only was Mike smart but until then he had always projected sexual confidence combined with an easy-going nature. People never said anything bad about Mike Morrison and he never had to worry that they might.
“Seriously,” he said, regaining his composure. “We’re in love. We plan to stay in love, and logically it’s the next step.”
“Logically?” The idea of logic here made her laugh. “Don’t you mean, romantically?”
“Yeah, of course, romantically. That’s a given. Romantically, logically, it’s the next inevitable thing.”
Amanda dried her hands and after a quick kiss said, “Sure, I’ll marry you, Mike. Whenever you want.”
He held her shoulder. “You thought I was joking.” His free hand dug into his back pocket for a little jeweler’s box, which he popped open in one fast motion. Checking her face to make sure she was genuinely happy and excited, he pulled the ring from the box and hovered a second until Amanda realized that poor Mike was still trembling. The traditions were ridiculous—should he kneel down? She shook her head gently no, not since hundreds of years ago.
He pushed the ring with its square-cut diamond on her fourth finger, left hand, and held it under a light to show her the brilliance and clarity.
“You can pick another stone if you want. Or another setting. But this one’s half a carat and flawless.”
“Mike, I’d marry you with or without a ring. You know that, right?” Amanda kissed him seriously and played with his shirt buttons, which was how she initiated sex.
Mike smoothed her hair. “We’ll go to my place in a while. Don’t you want to talk about this first?”
“All right. It’s such a serious, impossible decision. Have you told anyone you were going to ask me?”
“I didn’t dare,” Mike said. “Tell the truth—were you kind of hoping I’d say no?”
Mike choked back a nervous laugh. “Absolutely not, Amanda. If you had said no, I’d have talked you into it. But I also didn’t let myself get into that—what if you said no?”
Amanda nodded, trying to hide a wave of panic. No one she knew was married. Her friends would think she was nuts. And her mother, who often confided in Amanda that one boyfriend after another was about to “propose,” only to discover her hunch was wrong, was going to be jealous and mean about this.
That evening Mike invited his and Amanda’s friends to their favorite beer garden and made his announcement: they were getting married when the semester ended in May. Everyone congratulated them with raucous laughter. For real or a joke, they kept asking.
“For real,” Mike said. “Very, very real.”
“You should do it like a reality show,” Jason, his best drinking buddy said. “Start with the wedding and then video yourselves three nights a week.”
After people suggested various scenarios for this, one guy asked when Amanda was due.
“She isn’t.” Mike swore on his mother’s grave.
Amanda blushed nonstop, more embarrassed than she could remember. For one thing, before she had arrived at the university, she was a loner; nobody noticed her. But from her first week in college, people focused on her for some reason. Other students remembered her even from lecture classes. And after she had hooked up with Mike, who was famous for getting people to tease him, they teased her, too. But now their kidding was going on too long.
Everyone was drunk, except Amanda whose embarrassment had progressed to shame. She looked around, suddenly aware that she didn’t really know her friends and certainly none of Mike’s friends. Maybe she didn’t even know Mike.
Excusing herself, she watched the group from behind an alcove. Just as she decided to leave, because it was no fun, not to her—Mike came from the shadows and startled her. He pulled her through the front door and ushered her halfway down the street.
“People testing our resolve is part of the ritual,” he said, pulling her under a big tree. “Just smile and say ‘thank you.’ I’m the joker,” he said, “and you’re the bride.” He smiled as if just looking at her was an awesome privilege.
“Come on.” He tucked her hair behind her ears and after that, she felt okay.
The next day, however, Amanda’s best friend waylaid her after lunch. She had ignored Petra’s voicemails, not wanting to get into it.
“You’re not so hot,” Petra said. “You think you can just waltz around, like you’re God’s gift. But if you get married now, Amanda, you’re just gonna get divorced that much sooner.”
“I know it’s a risk,” she said. “But what isn’t?” Besides, what did Petra care if Amanda got married or not?
“Because we’re friends,” Petra said.
“There’s more to it than that,” Amanda said.
“Well then, we’re not friends.” Petra’s mouth curled into a grimace and she hurried away, muttering.
Left standing in too-bright sunlight, fear swelled inside Amanda like a bubble. But being afraid was no reason to tell Mike she had changed her mind. Amanda refused to be a coward. If she ruled out social anxiety, she really did want to marry Mike. The whole last three months, since they had started sleeping together, had been high-flying bliss. And it wasn’t just three months. They were friends for almost a year before they were lovers.
Studying together the next afternoon, Mike reiterated that he had no doubts, no worries. Amanda was the only one for him. In fact, he had already told his parents, who were both doctors at the school, although they lectured separately around the world. They couldn’t wait to meet Amanda.
“In like two weeks,” Mike said, “everyone’s schedule coincides. Okay if we go out to dinner with them then?”
“Of course, it’s okay. Did they really say they couldn’t wait to meet me?
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure each of them said that.”
“Didn’t they say you were too young?”
“Nope. They’ve always encouraged me to make my own decisions.
“I kind of dread telling my mother.”
“So we’ll do it together, the sooner the better.”
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