“What’s this?” a 17-year-old Ryan tossed to It. “You have a letter, and it’s not about taxes. Or college.”
It gasped excitedly from her bed. “Ooh, gimme.”
Ryan passed it to her. “What’s it say?”
Dear Bethany,
You don’t know me, but I was on the jury for your first trial in the case with Dr. Milbridge. I wanted to apologize about handing over the not-guilty ruling. I tried to argue against it, but the few people who were against you were adamant. I know it’s no excuse, but I wanted all the hostility to end. I wanted to go home to my family. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t regret that choice, and I finally gathered the stones to write this letter and send it to you. I wanted to apologize for my grievous lapse in judgement, and hope you can forgive me. I understand if you won’t, it’s perfectly understandable. But I wanted to apologize. So here. I’m very, very sorry, and hope you can forgive me. I hope you can have mercy on an old troubled soul.
-One Small Juror
“It’s one of the people from the jury on my case.”
Ryan stiffened. “The one that found the police ‘not guilty’?”
“Yeah, but...they’re apologizing. They didn’t want the ruling to go the way it did, but the others wouldn’t stop until they compromised the juror’s morals in favor of some needed rest. They’re apologizing for it.”
Ryan sat down next to her. “That’s something important to you, isn’t it?”
It nodded. “People are wrong sometimes. The important thing is if they admit they’re wrong.”
“Well, they did. Are you going to tell them?”
“There’s no return address, and no e-mail. How’m I supposed to let them know they’re all good with me?”
Ryan looked at her. “You’re an Internet phenomenon.”
It gasped. “Oh yeah!” she grabbed her computer and booted it up. “Forgot about that!”
She turned on the camera. “Hello everyone! Special message today, with my queerplatonic partner, Ryan. Wave to the camera, Ryan.”
Ryan waved. “Hey.”
“Listen, I got a handwritten letter today, apologizing for the not-guilty ruling on my case all those years ago, from one of the jurors in the court. And I just wanted to say: I forgive you. All of you who have changed your minds about people like me, who have accidentally done wrong to one of us, to me, if you changed your ways, I forgive you. What you do is not important. What’s important is how you react to it.”
Ryan looked at her with love in his eyes, and kissed her one the cheek. “I love you when you’re so forgiving.”
“Ha ha ha, Ryan. I’m being serious here.”
“So am I,” he responded.
She looked at him askance, and then grinned to the camera. “Sorry, gotta turn this off. Privacy, and all that.”
Once turned off, It and Ryan kissed, deep, passionate, and with platonic love behind it. It was one of the sweetest kisses they had ever shared.
19 years old and It was holding a college acceptance letter. Ryan was holding a high-school diploma, having started a year late. They were hugging each other, for what they feared was the last time in a long time. It was majoring in bioengineering, and thus would be busy in her books. Ryan was starting a career as a writer, primarily a journalist, and was about to go on a month-long journey to get facts for what they hoped would be their big-break article. “Are you sure you have to go?” she murmured.
“Yeah, but I’ll message everyday, and I’ll remind you to eat when you’ve been studying a while, and most of all when I come back I’ll give you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.
It kissed him. “It’s a good thing, because that one was the bitterest.”
21, and It and Ryan had reunited briefly between school and work, and were skipping rocks on the beach. “I miss you when you’re gone,” It said quietly to Ryan.
Ryan leaned his head on her shoulder. “I miss you more than you could ever know. I’m glad we get to see each other again, however briefly.”
It turned to Ryan. “Are you still my queerplatonic partner?”
Ryan nodded. “Of course! Am I yours?”
It nodded. “I couldn’t dream of another person being my zucchini like you could.”
“Well, in that case,” Ryan smiled and pulled out a ring box, getting on one knee.
It’s eyes widened and she laughed in disbelief.
“Since we were 7 I’ve wanted to get to know you, Bethany It Mangle, and I’ve gotten to know you better than I had ever dreamed of doing. I can’t imagine a life without you, and I’m glad to hear you feel the same. We move around a lot due to what we’re doing, and hardly ever see each other any more. But I want to change that, I want us to travel together, and so, before I leave somewhere to never return and you die horribly on one of your studies abroad,” It whacked him playfully. “Will you marry me?”
It was crying. “Yes, you huge idiot,” she cried. “Of course, yes.”
The wedding was by no means small, but it wasn’t extravagant. Mangle was there, and Emily Limonte, as well as each of their extended families. The press of course decided to show up, because when did they not, and everyone found the whole thing hilarious. Ryan was up there in his tuxedo, looking at It like she was the only person in his world. It was beaming back at him as she walked down the aisle in a traditional wedding dress, with white capris underneath at her insistence. The traditional “Here Comes the Bride” was playing in the background, and It and Ryan grinned, because their marriage that day was going to be anything but traditional. The preacher cleared his throat, and began the ceremony. As he talked, It looked into Ryan’s eyes, the happiest she’d ever been. Ryan mirrored her look. The time came to say the wedding vows. Ryan took a deep breath, and took the words he had memorized, and put them out there, finally, for all to see. “I Ryan Limonte, in faith, honesty and love, take you, Bethany Mangle, to be my wedded wife, to share with you God's plan for our lives together united in Christ. And with God's help, to strengthen and guide me I will be a strong spiritual leader for us in our life, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys and in sorrows, until death do we part. I give you all that I have myself and my love. All these things I pledge to thee in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. With this ring I seal my vow of love to you, Bethany, and pray I may fulfill God's place in our home, in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”
It cried from joy, the traditional vows seeming a little old-fashioned to some in the audience, but this wasn’t about them, and It and Ryan both agreed that they couldn’t come up with prettier vows themselves. It was her turn.
“I, Bethany Mangle, in faith, honesty and love, take you, Ryan Limonte, to be my wedded husband, to share with you God’s plan for our lives together united in Christ. And with God’s help, to strengthen and guide me I will be your supportive wife, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys and in sorrows, until death do we part. I give you all that I have myself and my love. All these things I pledge to thee In the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. With this ring I seal my vow of love to you, Ryan, and pray I may fulfill God’s place in our home, in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”
Everyone nodded. The vows fit Bethany and Ryan well. The preacher looked between them. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Ryan pulled It close and kissed her. Behind it, there was the promise of the future, the history of a past, and the sweet, sweet joy of the present. And, if It wasn’t mistaken, a little bit of romance. She didn’t mind too much, since she knew Ryan wouldn’t act on it if she wasn’t comfortable. Everyone clapped and they parted. Man and wife. They couldn’t believe it. They were married. They turned to the crowd and made their way through it, accepting congratulations and hugs, and everyone headed to the reception. Ryan drove, holding It’s hand in one of his. “Words can’t describe how much I love you,” he said.
It grinned. “I can say the exact same to you.”
Ryan coughed awkwardly. “I know we never really talked about this, but, um, what do you think about kids?”
“I’d love one,” It sighed. “Provided I can raise them with you.”
“22 and in love,” Ryan sang.
“We’re never, ever going to be torn apart, not even in death,” It said.
And they both meant it.
24 and It was being woken up to the sound of small feet dashing into the room and giggling. A toddler flew up over the bed and pounded hard into it. Ryan woke up with a start and nearly cursed. It sat up and hugged the child. “Good morning, Iliya. Hungry?”
Iliya nodded. She was 2 and hadn’t yet spoken a word, but It had no doubt that with time she would. She flapped her wings excitedly at the thought of food as Ryan got up, grumbling. “Remind me again why we got a kid instead of a dog?”
“Don’t listen to Daddy, he’s just grumpy in the mornings,” It assured Iliya.
Iliya smiled up at It. “Papa’s making waffles already!” she announced.
It and Ryan paused. “Well, I’ll be sure to thank Papa then,” she said, putting Iliya down.
“Your dad is a miracle worker,” Ryan said in disbelief.
It laughed. “I know. He made us human, remember?”
"That wasn't your dad," Ryan kissed her. "That was you."
~End~
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