The next morning Donny showed up to my apartment at about nine to help me get ready. “I’m not really sure how this is supposed to work,” he confessed. “I mean, ‘best man’ is usually the guy that helps the groom get his shit together, right? But you’re a bride, to state an obvious point. Am I supposed to help you with your makeup? Supposed to help you get into your wedding gown? What?”

“Yeah, some of that, I guess,” I said. “Honestly, this is my first time, too.” This got the laugh I was hoping for and helped ease the stress a little bit. “You have the ring, right?”

“Right here,” he said, tapping his pocket.

“And your tux?”

“Sana is taking it out to Emmy’s house,” he answered. “Taken care of.”

“Well, my dress is here, but I’m not gonna put it on until we get there. I’ve already done everything I can here, but we aren’t supposed to get there until eleven. Edouard is coming to pick us up in about an hour and a half. My mom and my sister have already gone out there.”

“What are we going do until then?” Donny asked, voicing the question I’d just been pondering.

“Beats me,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I have no idea.”

“I guess that makes me feel better,” Donny said. “I’m not the only clueless idiot.”

“Like I said, this is my first time, too.”

We wound up killing time listening to music and just talking about Sana and when the two of them were going to get married.

“Sana wants to get married up in Seattle, but all our friends are down here. In Palo Alto, I mean,” he added. “I told her that my parents would come down, but she wants all of my family to be there, even the ones I really don’t ever see. Family is a big deal for her, I guess because she hasn’t really had any of her own since she was a kid, you know?”

When Edouard knocked, I took one last quick look around to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything, then grabbed my bag and off we went.

“This car is super nice,” Donny marveled. “I mean, your Aston is sexy as hell, but this… This is just super cush.”

“The very first time I rode in this car it felt like a vault to me. It was like being locked away in a private little world,” I told him.

“That was back in high school, right?”

“Yeah. Emmy and Edouard used to give me rides to and from school every day. It sure beat the hell out of the bus!”

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Donny agreed.

Donny hadn’t yet seen the Lascaux house, so he was agog from the moment we went through the gate.

“They live in a gated community?” has asked.

“No, that gate is just for their house alone.”

Winding our way through the orchard, he got his first glimpse of the house. “Holy…” he said, not finding the words.

The place was buzzing with activity, and Carmela, the maid who’d comforted me the time I’d come looking for Emmy, led Donny and me away from the house and out to the pool. Apparently my ‘dressing room’ was going to be the pool house’s back area, to keep me away from possibly seeing Emmy too early.

“God, this is amazing,” Donny breathed, wowed by the grounds, the pool and the pool house itself.

“You need to get a tour of the main house,” I told him. “It’s incredible.”

“It would have to be, if this is just the pool house,” Donny agreed.

“In an hour, you two will need to be dressed and ready,” Carmela interrupted, explaining the rules. “If you are hungry or thirsty I can get you whatever you need, but you two are not supposed to go to the main house.”

“Thanks, Carmela, I said. “I could use a Coke, please.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Donny. “Thanks!”

We found where Donny’s tux and my dress were hung up, so I went into the bathroom and sat down at the vanity to put on my makeup while Donny hung out to keep me company.

“It’s always a bit weird to see you with makeup on,” he said as I applied my eyeliner.

Just then a loud knock on the door announced the entrance of the same makeup lady that had done me up for that Las Vegas party.

“Oh, no, missy!" she said, taking the eyeliner from my hand. “That is my job today.”

Grateful for professional help, I sat while she put on more makeup than I was used to, but somehow it wound up looking as if I weren’t really wearing makeup at all. Just somehow more beautiful, more perfect. It was like some sort of strange magic.

To Donny’s surprise, after she was done with me she sat him down and worked on him a bit, too. She didn’t really apply any makeup per se, just groomed his eyebrows, trimmed his silly little goatee a bit, then powdered him so he wouldn't be shiny in the photos. The individual actions were small, but it did make him look a bit more handsome, to his surprise.

After the makeup lady scooted out, Donny said “Well, I guess it’s time to get dressed. You first or me?”

“I’m gonna need some help,” I confessed. “I don’t think I can even get my dress on by myself.”

“Um, O.K.,” Donny said, suddenly nervous. “I guess as best man I’m supposed to help you get dressed, but I didn’t realize it was gonna be literal.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s a real pain.”

“But there is a real solid upside, though,” Donny said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Well, I get to finally see you nakie!”

“I should have seen that coming,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“That’s what she said,” he replied, his big goofy grin threatening to split his face in two.

“Well, unlucky for you, I don’t need any help putting on my underwear,” I said, having a hard time being mad at him. Donny was always good for a laugh, always good to lighten the mood.

“Well, can I at least watch?”

Tapping my chin and looking thoughtful, I said, “Well, I don’t see why not. Just this one time, though. After today I’m going to be a married woman.”

The look on Donny’s face was absolutely priceless. “At least, that’s what she said,” I added.

“Damn it!” Donny howled in disappointment. “For a moment there…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“As a consolation, you will get to see me in my sexy undies,” I told him, laughing.

“Well, that’s O.K. then,” he said, brightening up a bit.

Donny went into the bathroom to change into his tux while I waited. He really was going to see me in my sexy undies, a fact that was now obvious but which I hadn’t planned for. ‘Oh well,’ I mentally shrugged. ‘What’s a little near-nudity between friends?’

Donny emerged from the bathroom looking better than I could have ever imagined. His unruly curls had been tamed and the tux fit him properly. He actually looked comfortable in it, too, which is the key for a man to make a tuxedo work. If you can make it seem you wear one frequently enough that it’s no more of a thing than a T shirt and jeans, well then, you’ve got style to spare.

Me, on the other hand, I was still staring at my wedding dress in dismay, my T shirt and sweatpants still firmly on my body.

“What can I do to help?” asked Donny, no trace of flippancy in his voice. He really was there to help me, and was going to do what he could.

“Well, when the dress was fitted, there were three ladies that helped me get it on, and it was sort of chaotic. I think you need to hold it up by the front while I step into it, then help me fasten it in back,” I explained, trying to remember the process. Seriously, why are these things so complicated?

While Donny took the dress out of the closet, removed the cover and hanger and brought it up to hold it as I’d asked, I kicked off my Vans and pulled off my T and sweats.

Donny looked over at me, and said “Yup. You were right. Those are sexy undies,” and left it at that, to my relief. He held the dress down low so I could step into the skirt, which was a pain because there was so much extra cloth involved. In retrospect it made it obvious why they’d had that little pedestal at the dress boutique.

I finally got my feet on solid ground inside the skirt with no material trapped under my feet, so Donny and I hitched up the waistband and lifted the top part of the dress into place. Thankfully the whole process was so involved that I didn’t have time to be embarrassed about being mostly naked in front of Donny.

That is, until he helped with the fastener in back and said, “Um, Leah, did you realize this dress has a fairly open back?”

“I should,” I replied. “I did pick it out, after all.”

“Well, did you maybe not take your bra straps into account?”

“Oh, you have got to be freaking kidding me,” I groaned, instantly realizing what Donny had meant.

Sighing, I said “OK, undo me.”

Donny unfastened the dress so I could lower the front. “Since you’re there, go ahead and unhook my bra, too,” I directed.

“Are you sure?” Donny asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said. “I guess you’re going to get to see more of me than I’d expected.”

“No, it’s cool. I won’t look,” Donny said, being a gentleman.

“Might as well,” I told him. “I mean, I’ve seen you with your shirt off, right? Fair’s fair,” I said, dropping my bra off my shoulders and tossing it on the couch with my other clothes. Of course, while I did this the dress dropped down to my knees again, since neither of us were holding it up.

“Shit!” Donny exclaimed, and when he bent quickly to grab the dress from falling all the way to the floor he accidentally bumped me.

My feet were trapped by the skirt, so I couldn’t step forward to balance myself, and this had the predictable comedic results- I went sprawling on the carpet.

“Shit!” Donny said again, dropping the dress to help me up. “Are you O.K.?” he asked.

“I think I’ve broken my ego," I moaned. “Or at least sprained it severely,” I said as I stood up. At this point any hint of modestly was long gone, and humor was the best that could be salvaged from the situation.

Standing there in nothing but my lacy silk French-cut panties, I looked Donny straight in the eye. “Sana and Emmy never hear of this,” I said, my tone low. “Never.”

Donny smirked for a moment, then said “Agreed,” in the same conspiratorial voice.

I’d gotten to the ‘aw fuck it’ stage of acceptance at this point and said “By the way, Donny, you look really good in that tux. Seriously.”

“Well, thanks- but you look even better in those panties,” Donny said.

Donny had become the best guy friend I’d ever had, and the fact he would casually joke about it to defuse the situation in what could have been a crushingly embarrassing moment just minutes before the second biggest day of my life meant the world to me. Rolling with it, I went and got a drink from my Coke and calmed myself for a moment. If I was going to be almost completely nude in front of Donny, I was going to own it. I took a couple of minutes, then squared my shoulders to return for another round with that dress.

This time it went without a hitch. Donny and I had both learned from our mistakes in round one and in moments the dress was up, on, and fastened correctly. Except for my shoes, that is. I’d vetoed heels, since I’m already taller than Emmy by nearly six inches, but really I should have put on my ballet flats before attempting the dress. Thankfully, Donny came to the rescue again, slipping my shoes on while I held on to the back of the couch for balance.

Checking myself over in the floor-length mirror, I was happy with the way I looked. Thankfully none of the comedy skit we’d performed had ruined my hair or makeup, so all that was left were the pearl necklace and earrings. Donny was still styled up nicely, too, so we were good to go with ten minutes to spare. I wasn’t sure if I could even sit down in my dress, so I just stood there and sipped my Coke through its straw while we waited for our cue.

“You have the ring, right?” I asked again, my nerves starting to show a tiny bit.

“Right here,” Donny confirmed, pulling the little velvet box from his pocket, then removing the ring and handing it to me to inspect. I glanced at it, and yes, it was the correct ring, so I handed it back. Donny tossed the box onto the pile of my clothes and slipped the ring into his pocket.

“Don’t want to fuss with the box when it comes time,” he explained at my puzzled expression.

Just as the standing around started to become awkward, Donny said “You know, Leah, I knew you’d been working out, but seeing you like that…”

“Naked, you mean?”

“Yeah, naked,” he agreed. “You are, like, fully freaking built. I mean, I’d seen you plenty in your volleyball outfit and that doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, but I’d never seen your shoulders and back before. You’re just… built!”

“Yeah, you said that already,’ I laughed.

“Well, it bears repeating. You're a solid mass of muscle- I mean, impressive as all get out.”

“Thanks, Don,” I replied, sipping on my drink.

“But I do have to tell you, and don’t take this personally, Leah,” Donny hedged.

“What’s that?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.

“Sana’s boobs are better than yours,” he said, his voice serious.

“Jeeze, Don. Way to give a girl a complex,” I laughed. Really, if there was one great talent Donny had, it was his ability to make a joke at just the right moment.

Carmela arrived at about that time to usher us to the tent where the wedding was going to take place. Emmy and I had figured that for the actual ceremony, I’d take the lead and she would follow, as if I were the groom and she the bride. I had to admit at least a tiny bit of that was that we had settled into me in the traditionally male role in our household, and I was maybe just a tiny bit more butch than Emmy… or something like that.

That meant that for the wedding, I’d already be in place with Donny by my side when Tiffany, scattering flower petals, led Emmy down the aisle, walking arm in arm with her father.

The actual ceremony went off seamlessly. I said I did, Emmy said she did, we put our rings on each other’s fingers, kissed, and smiled for the assembled crowd. I was terrified I’d blow my few lines or drop the ring or something like that, but thankfully I’d gotten all my embarrassing pratfalls done beforehand. Of course, Emmy was flawless as usual. She was calm, collected, and unbelievably beautiful. The cliche is to say that she was never more beautiful than that moment, but it was absolutely true. She was glowing with happiness, radiant in that wedding gown, graceful and poised, but smiling and welcoming at the same time. It’s corny, but I really do believe that I was the luckiest person in the world just then.

The next couple of hours were nothing but posing for pictures, greeting everybody that had come, and eating cake. The only part of it that stands out in my memory was when Grandma gave Emmy a hug and a kiss, then hugged and kissed me.

“From the time you were little,” she said, her voice a little bit quiet so only I could hear, “I figured you were probably never going to be able to get married. But thankfully the laws and peoples’ attitudes have changed, and now look at you. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, dear. Emmy seems really sweet- you make sure you treat her right- especially in the bedroom. And the kitchen. And every other room in the house, for that matter.”

I laughed, a bit scandalized, but I saw the love in my grandma’s eyes. “How long have you known I was gay?” I asked.

“Eh, since you were maybe ten or eleven, I guess. That’s when I think I started noticing the way you looked at other girls more than boys. Also, you have to remember, I live in Palm Springs, which may be the gayest town in the world, so it isn’t as if I’m not exposed to it, you know. Besides, I did go to an all-girls college.”

Eventually it came time for us to leave so Emmy and I piled into the BMW and Edouard drove us out of sight of the party, but then around back and to the pool house via a back driveway I hadn’t realized existed. It was sort of a silly thing, ducking out like that, but it meant we could change into normal clothes for our escape to our honeymoon. Emmy hadn’t seen my wedding dress before the ceremony and I hadn’t seen hers (they were coordinated by the wedding designer Emmy’s mom had hired), so when I dropped the gown off my shoulders and my bare boobs made their appearance she gave me a funny look.

“No bra?” she asked.

“The dress has an open back,” I explained, shrugging, which refocused her attention on my chest.

“Lucky me,” she breathed, cupping my breasts and rubbing her thumbs over my rapidly puckering nipples.

“Edouard is waiting,” I reminded her.

“But-” she pouted, not letting go of my boobs.

“Ever hear of the mile high club? We can join it in just a little while,” I said, remembering Donny’s antics on the plane.

“I do not know what that is,” Emmy said, reluctantly letting go of my anatomy.

“I’ll explain once we take off,” I promised.