LEAD. August 2020 | Page 37

Arguing through fake, plastered smiles in the back seat while Steve sat tight lipped, white knuckling the wheel up front. And it’s all on video! Sure, I was a little disappointed we didn’t parade around the streets, and I wished Matt would’ve danced more at the reception, but he went to a Christian school where dancing wasn’t allowed, and I went to a public school where we never held back. I get it now. —Sarah We were exhausted by the time we reached our hotel, but can you guess the first thing we did? Open cards and count the money! We had both saved sex for our wedding night, so what was a few more minutes of virginity in the grand scheme of things? And come on, we were two broke kids who needed to make sure we had enough gas money to make it to Michigan the next morning. After all the cards were opened, we realized that we had enough cash to make it there and back and even enjoy a couple of steak dinners along the way. We honeymooned near the Sleeping Bear Dunes of Lake Michigan. Miles of beach and towering bluffs. Lush forests. Sarah and I thought it seemed like a good place for a romantic getaway. Some friends of ours owned a cabin up there, and they were gracious enough to offer it for the week. Being alone in the woods was pretty romantic at first, but it can be hard for city kids to brave the silence. I may have pulled the old shotgun down a time or two after hearing a suspicious noise outside. “Who’s there?” I would yell loudly, awkwardly cocking an unloaded shotgun that I had no clue how to use. I had to prove to my new bride that I could protect her in a dangerous situation, right? On our second day in the woods, we were already itching for adventure, so Sarah and I drove into Traverse City. We were riding down East Front Street, the main strip, bumper-tobumper traffic, when a surge of anxiety shot through me and tied my stomach in knots. My IBS had been quiet for years but decided to make a comeback at the worst possible time. “Pick me up at this same spot,” I said, throwing the car door open. “I gotta find a bathroom. Like now.” For a moment Sarah sat clueless, the faint outline of J ST MA R ED still visible on the back window of our Volvo. A little confused, she ran around to the driver side and slid behind the 37