Peksman

Peksman - 4

"Dad, was it easy? Getting married?" My 22 year old asked. She was now fully grown, a few years fresh out of college and finally out in the labor force.

I smirked at the question, feeling a bit shocked at how casually she inserted the concept of marriage in our conversation.

"Why? Do you and Francis intend to tie the knot soon?" I asked, genuinely curious about whether her boyfriend of 3 years has popped the question.

Disbelief was written on her face. "Oh my God, no! I was just asking..." The contrast between the two sentences were evident. The latter was starkly sadder in tone.

I sipped on my coffee and put down the newspaper I was reading. I tried offering a melancholic smile.

"Getting married was easy. It was your mom, after all..."

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"Kuya, sure ka na ba talaga dito?" Benjamin, my younger brother asked. He was already dressed in his suit and was helping me put on mine.

"This is the surest I have ever been my entire life. So, yes," I replied, my tone confident and without any linger of doubt.

Benj only managed to smile.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask while fixing up my tie since it doesn't seem to stay in place no matter how many times I fix it.

He shook his head. "You're lucky..." His words dragged on at the end, seemingly wanting to say more but can't.

I looked at him through the mirror I was facing. "I know. You will be too, kung mahanap mo na 'yung the one."

He placed his arm over my shoulders to tap me lightly and laughed heartily, "Napaka-cheesy mo, kuya." He continued, "But you're going to be a great husband."

Our conversation as single men ended there, because I was finally called out, signifying that the wedding is about to start.

Standing on the altar, I felt anxious.

It wasn't because I was uncertain about marrying Sharlene - she was the only thing I was certain about. It's because she's taking too long to come out.

What if she decided to back out? What if she realized I was not husband-material enough? What if she finally got sick of my face? I started asking myself too many questions and started sweating profusely. I was even unconciously tapping my feet. It felt like the longest minutes I experienced.

My breath finally evened when the music began and when the wedding entourage started walking.

However, my breath hitched when I finally saw her in her wedding dress. Her face was slightly covered by the sheer veil, but I could make out that she was smiling. Her father in one hand and her bouquet in another, she walked with much grace. She was beautiful.

Her father finally handed her over to me and stood over to his seat.

"I thought tumakas ka," I whispered to her ear. I was finally happy because her arm on mine was reassurance enough that everything is falling to place.

Her quiet laugh was audible to me. "Baliw ka, Donny. Alam mo 'yun?"

I wasn't able to respond because the priest called for the start of the ceremony. As he droned on things that we were supposed to do, I knew I will only remember committing to the marriage. And that's true, because I still remember what we said.

"Do you, Sharlene San Pedro, take Donato Antonio Pangilinan, to be your lawfully wedded husband, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'till death do you part?"

"Peksman." She said, smiling as she held my hand to insert the ring on my finger.

"Ano?" The priest asked, disbelieving what he heard. The crowd became curious.

"I do," Sharlene said in a much louder voice. Then she turned to look at me once more. "Peksman."

The priest smiled at the oddity of the word she chose to use, but to me, the word was perfect.

So as he tried asking the same question to me, I didn't let him finish. "Do you, Donato Antonio Pangilinan, take Sharlene San Pedro as you--"

"Yes, I do." I relaxedly cut him off. "Peksman."