Are You Pregnant?

Four brothers didn't show up to my marriage ceremony.
One apparently had laundry to do.
One just didn't feel like it.
One was deceased.
One was nowhere to be found.

"Are you pregnant?" one brother asked.
"No," I stated. I lowered my head. Felt intimidated. Yet, I knew I was making the right decision. For me.
We were in the backyard of the home I lived in with our parents. The home we grew up in. He was wondering why I accepted Rudy's request to marry him.
"Does he need a green card?" he continued to question me.
"No." I felt mad, but didn't say anything. I simply wondered why my getting married wasn't a happy thing, like for most girls.
He walked away. So did I.

The very first time Rudy was going to come to my house, to pick me up for a date, I couldn't stop telling him about how great my dad was. How intelligent. Someone I admired. Loved tremendously.
Rudy knocked on the front door. I opened it wide, inviting him in.
"Dad, this is Rudy," I said with a smile.
Rudy stuck out his hand, ready to shake the hand of the man I adored.
My dad looked at the firm handshake-able hand.
He turned and walked away without acknowledging Rudy. No words. Nothing. I was embarrassed. Speechless. Mostly upset. It didn't make sense. My dad was such a kind person. It was uncharacteristic of him.
Rudy and I left.
He felt bad. Defeated.

Later. About a year or so later, I walked into the house wearing the engagement ring Rudy had placed on my left ring finger. I walked directly to my mom. Stuck out my hand. Let her see the ring. She held my hand. Didn't say a word.
Tears dribbled down my cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" she asked me.
"I just want you to be happy for me. The way I am happy for myself," I cried.
"I just hope you aren't marrying him because he wants you to. Making you feel like you have no choice," she admitted.
Being a quiet, shy person the assumption was I had no mind of my own. Couldn't decide things without help. When in fact I knew exactly what I was doing. Knew how happy I felt. Knew our decision was the right one. For us. Knowing that is what mattered. What was right for us.
My mom didn't know what else to say. Neither did I.

About three months later, Rudy and I were to marry. The ceremony was going to be a small immediate family only gathering. A few family members still had reservations about our nuptials. Including my parents. They still weren't sure I was making a decision for me or if I was being pushed.
I was upstairs, with my bridesmaid, waiting to hear the piano player begin the wedding march. More importantly, though, I was wondering if my parents were going to be there. For me. They had never committed to attending. Yet, I hoped it was going to be my dad that would walk me to Rudy.
Five minutes before our I Do's a strand of pearls, from my parents, was given to me. Tears welled up in my eyes. "They're here," I whispered to my friend. She placed them around my neck.
The music started. I walked down the stairs. My dad was waiting. He held out his hand. I squeezed it. My mom was sitting in the front row. Rudy stood there. Smiling.

"I feel very happy seeing you two." my mom said, "I now know you are in this together. It's not one-sided. You both look happy, in love."
I hugged her. Kissed her. Smiled.