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“Me too!” she says, “Whoops I better go, the ceremony guy is seating everyone!”
Lily straightens herself in the chair, to better support the weight of Brody Junior. Meanwhile I look around to find Eric at the kids’ table, having fun with his cousins, and Lily’s little cousins.
He had always been such a lonely kid, and it’s nice to see him bloom in a different environment.
“What are they serving tonight?” my father asks me, and I repeat the question to Lily.
“You should know. You helped me pick it!” she says, daring me to guess the answer.
Dinner goes on without a hitch, with no toast too embarrassing or too harsh to cause offense.
The night ends with us cuddling together, the balcony’s open window allowing the Bali summer breeze to caress our bodies.
The next morning begins with Lily running out of the room in a rush so she can leave Junior with her mother and then get herself all ready for tonight, our wedding.
I, on the other hand, spent the day at the beach with Eric, exploring his new passion of collecting shells and colorful rocks, and secretly counting the seconds until sunset.
When we get back to the hotel, I realize I’m nervous as hell. My skin burns like a red pepper, and all I want is some calamine lotion, but there’s not enough time — we need to be ready in two hours, and not a minute more.
“Shower, now!” I order Eric.
“But I bathed in the ocean!” he complains.
“The ocean is not a bathtub. There’s sand, plants, and fish poop,” I say, dead serious.
And in response to that he widens his eyes and asks, “Do fish poop…?”
“Yes,” I nod emphatically, hands at my hips. “And it’s all sticking to you right now.”
Eric starts to rub his arms vigorously to rid himself of any invisible fish poop and goes “Ew!” as he runs towards the shower and turns it on, still wearing his swim trunks.
I set aside his clothes, a suit so small it makes me wonder if there will be one for Junior too.
I lay it down on the bed and place it beside my uniform. Eric returns five minutes later, wrapped in a towel that drags down to his feet.
“Undies, socks,” I say, pointing at each item, “wear those and I’ll come help you with the rest.”
“Okay, dad,” he says, obedient, making me wish he were always like that.
I go shower myself and find it hard to keep steady hands to hold a bar of soap or open the shampoo bottle.
There’s less than two hours now, and even my breathing is unsteady.
I get out of the shower and change into my pants then realizing I forgot my shirt, I open the bathroom door to grab it.
The first thing I see is Eric trying on the uniform’s cap. He looks hilarious in just the oversized cap, socks, and underwear.
“You can have one of these just for you when you get older,” I say, walking to the closet to get my shirt and put it on.
“I know!” he says, beaming, “Is it hard to be a seal?”
Buttoning my shirt, I turn to him, “Navy SEAL, son… And yes, it’s hard. But the reward is quite worth it.”
He removes the cap off his head then walks over to me, holding it out. I lean down and he places it on top of my head. I take it as a badge of honor, a decoration bestowed upon me by the highest authority in my life.
“I want to be a Navy SEAL too, dad!” he says, making my heart melt with happiness.
“You can be whatever you want to be, Eric,” I say, holding him still for a moment to kiss the top of his head. “Now finish getting dressed. Pants and belt.”
