Anna from Across the Hallway Pt. 04

The wedding's timing resembled that of a shotgun wedding. Just a month after our torrid engagement, there we were, at the Ruiz homestead out in the agricultural central valley, getting married. Her family thought it important to tie the knot before she got a big belly. I'll confess, it was turning out to be a lovely day. There were maybe 30 people there, including my brother, who'd flown in from Phoenix with his wife.

The Hispanic influence was all-pervasive. Anna was going to wear the same dress her mom had worn when she married in Mexico years ago, with lots of lace.

But ..... but!

Before the walk down the aisle, who should show up, uninvited, but her old Marine boyfriend, Chico, her sperm donor. He burst into the room where I and my two best men (fellow UPS employees) were prepping and cracking jokes. Behind him, trying to restrain him, were Lisa's two brothers. Chico, a strapping young man, was dressed in his impressive Marine dress uniform.

"You're Jerry, aren't you?"

"Yes." There hadn't been a doubt in my mind about who this was. I was quickly getting apprehensive.

When I just looked blankly at him without getting defensive, he seemed to calm down a little.

"You know who I am?"

"I think so. Anna's former boyfriend."

"When I came here, I wanted to beat you up. But now ..... I don't know, my emotions are running all over the place. Anna was good to me, and I just abandoned her. I didn't want to be responsible for a kid."

"Yeah," I responded. My best men were looking at me anxiously.

"Can you deal with me marrying her, and being a dad to the baby?" I quietly asked.

"I guess Anna and me; I guess it's all over." He began to shed a few tears, this big, sunburned Marine.

I hugged him. "Will you stay and enjoy the wedding, and wish Anna and me the best? Maybe you could be like an uncle to the baby, and come to visit from time to time."

A potential disaster was averted. Actually, I thought, in another time and place I might've acted just like Chico did.

I got into my tux, attached a flower to its lapel and began to wait the 20 minutes until the ceremony was to begin. To say I was nervous at my young age would be an understatement.

It's a custom for the groom not to see the bride in her finery until meeting at the alter, but that was soon broken when Anna came hurriedly into our room, escorted by a bridesmaid and Anna's father. What the hell?

Her face was all flushed and a long strand of her hair had fallen out of place.

She hugged me, and began to cry just a little. "Oh, Jerry, Jerry. This is awful, I know." Her bridesmaid nodded her head, and a tear rolled down her cheek too. Anna's father just held back and let the girls do the talking.

"Jerry, you will never forgive me. I wouldn't blame you."

"What's happening?"

Anna dried a tear, and a silence ensued as she looked up into my eyes.

"Chico says he will marry me, if I'm willing."

"Oh my god," was all I could manage.

I don't want to describe this whole episode endlessly. It turned out, I eventually learned, that Anna's parents, more than her, wanted this ending. They talked her into it, despite the question of Chico's character. Once again, I felt like the gringo who didn't quite fit into their traditions and heritage.

I couldn't stand to watch the revised ceremony take place, and left early with my two buddies, who were incredulous as well. There were apologies from Anna's family, along with a couple whispered concerns about Chico.

I only saw Anna a couple more times as she moved out from her place to go follow Chico elsewhere in the country as he was assigned to a Marine base. Because I had moved in with Anna, my apartment across the hall had now been rented to someone else (a woman). At our final goodbye, Anna whispered that she'd "left a few things for Lisa."

*****

As I settled in to her apartment, alone, I was deeply down in the dumps, and wasn't even interested in seeing what she'd left me. I slept too much, binge-watched TV, and ate too much ice cream. This went on for a month or so (Anna hadn't even sent me a letter or email telling me about her new life).

One sunny weekend, I took a long nature walk, and returned feeling unusually horny.

I looked in the cardboard boxes she'd left in her closet. She'd been generous; very generous, I realized, as I dumped out dresses, shoes, lingerie, nighties, makeup, pants, tops, and even a box half-full of cheap jewelry. Apparently she'd decided to make a clean break with her past, and re-invent herself.

Taped to the top of one box was a handwritten note: "For my darling Lisa. I will miss you and our lovemaking! Now maybe you can remember me a little when you wear my things. Please wish me the best. I hope it all works out. And I absolutely know that you will find the woman you love, who will love Lisa just as I did!"

And now, it was my turn to cry a little.

My doldrums began to dissipate when I dressed in her things that afternoon, wearing her sexy bra and panties under tight pants and top along with my wig. Most of her things fit quite well, except for her shoes. I thought for a moment that maybe I should change my femme name to Anna. But that would have been morbid.

I walked over to my stand-up, full length mirror, and looking at myself imagined I was seeing Anna on the other side of the glass. I even came over and kissed "her" on the glass. After that conjuration, I had a glorious masturbation, and after dinner went to bed in her nightie.

I crossed paths with the old lady in the other apartment a few days later, and resolved not to tell her anything about what transacted. All she said was, "So, you moved to the other apartment after Anna left."

I nodded yes, smiled and left.

The woman who moved into my old place was a photography student going to an art college -- a tall, too-slender woman in her thirties, who wasn't very communicative or friendly and dressed rather plainly. Her shoulder-length hair just hung limply. I suspected she was overly serious about her art aspirations. She introduced herself as Flannery.

She showed me some of her photography, and I'll admit I was impressed. At the same time, I felt I had to impress her by saying that outside of UPS, I was a poet.

"Oh, a UPS poet! I like that," she said with a smile.