My brother Oz got married when he was sixteen to a gal who claimed she was bearing his child. Two years later, after said child failed to materialize, Oz dropped out of school and joined the Navy. Next thing I heard, he was sailing the seven seas in a nuclear sub although technically I don’t think you sail a sub. He was still legally married but that all changed after he and a fellow seaman got drunk and destroyed a Jeep while on duty. Oz lucked out with only a medical discharge from the Navy but that brought Perma Pregnant Paulette back into the picture. She claimed to need far more medical assistance than the heap of broken bones she was still legally married to.

Flash forward a few scant years (maybe it was only one) and Brother Oz was again called to the altar to “do the right thing.” Only this time, not at city hall. Oh no. Bride Number Two was the gregarious daughter of the biggest Harley Davidson dealer in Southern California. This wedding would done right with Daddy renting an entire Ramada Inn for the reception. Due to LA traffic, I missed most of the actual wedding ceremony, arriving just after the “I dos” had been said and the bride and groom were exiting the church on a pair of matching white Harleys. I kid you not. As they burst into the blazing sun, their guests rushed past us to leap on their own bikes (most but not all Harleys) to follow the bride and groom to the Ramada Inn. What a sight that was. The bride in her fluffy white gown and veil, and the groom in a white tux, roaring down the freeway followed by various representatives of the many biker clubs in SoCal all proudly wearing their insignia.

“Pigs in a blanket!” My step mother said derisively as she examined the table of refreshments. The bride’s parents had not asked for her expert advice on the proper finger food to serve at a reception. “Did you make sure to lock your doors?”

“I doubt anyone is going to steal our old, gutless Toyota in a parking lot full of Harley Davidsons.” I replied. Did I mention that Oz is technically my step brother?

With nary a concern for protocol or ceremony, the blossoming bride and her daddy soon kicked off their shoes and took to the dance floor for a sentiment rendering of Born to be Wild. Well, as sentimental a rendering as could be performed by weekend musicians kicking around empty Budweiser cans on the stage.

I had three young children with me and so, after a few rounds of Born to be Wild (the only song the band knew how to play), we congratulated the bride and groom and left to find a quiet place offering a bit more than pigs in a blanket and ice-cold Budweiser. I felt a bit guilty leaving my poor father behind. He’d begun chatting about the constellations with some bearded fellow wearing dungarees and a sleeveless tee that exposed all his tattoos while my step mother sipped her tepid water in sweetly smiling disgust.

Anyway the point of this story is: the bride really was pregnant this time and delivered a boy they named Hawk. I’m sure he was riding Harleys before he could walk but his life took a different path. He’s now a social worker married to a sweet looking chap who works in a similar field. Yes, they are gay. A fact which cemented in my step mother’s mind the ugly truth that her sweet, gullible youngest had once again been taken advantage of by a female.

Not long after Hawk arrived, they welcomed a daughter. A beautiful child who so resembled my step mother that there was no doubting who her father was this time.

And so you ask … is there a point to this story? Here is my niece:

I think she has the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. I’ve tried many times to capture what it is about her that makes her so beautiful but I think it is beyond the skills of any artist.

Perhaps it’s because she lives in her own world. In our world, she will only say “I love you.”

I have only met her a few times and generally at sad events but… I always get a familiar hug.

My mother, who heard everyone’s confessions in the end, told me Oz often complained that all he wanted a son he could fish with and a daughter he could walk down the aisle. But he has caring children and that’s about all any of us could hope for. Don’t you think?