Chapter 8: The Body Beloved

The wedding was held on a Saturday in late June, the kind of day that made you forget you were on the Oregon coast. The fog had lifted, revealing a brilliant blue sky and the distant sparkle of the ocean. The bingo hall was transformed, the fairy lights twinkling, the flowers blooming, the electronic board flickering with a message: “LARKIN & JAMES.”

I was sixty-one now, still naked, still unashamed, still exactly who I’d always been. My body had changed—the wrinkles were deeper, the gray hair more prominent, the joints a little stiffer in the morning—but I didn’t care. I’d never cared. I’d never worn anything, and I never would.

Larkin was eighteen, a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. She was getting married today, and she was doing it naked—just like her grandmother had done, all those years ago. The nudity had become a family tradition, a symbol of freedom and acceptance that had spread through the generations.

I was in the back of the hall, waiting for the music to begin. Cape was beside me, his hand in mine. Sibley was on my other side, her eyes red from crying.

“Can you believe it?” Sibley said, her voice thick with emotion. “My baby is getting married.”

“She’s not a baby anymore,” I said. “She’s a woman. A remarkable woman.”

“I know.” Sibley squeezed my hand. “She learned from the best.”

“I didn’t teach her anything. I just showed her what was possible.”

“That’s everything.” Sibley smiled. “That’s everything, Mom.”

The music began. It was a simple melody, soft and sweet, the kind of music that made your heart ache with its beauty. I took a deep breath and started walking.

The aisle was lined with flowers. Myrtle Broadbent had outdone herself—roses and hydrangeas and little white blossoms I didn’t recognize. The chairs were filled with familiar faces: Floras, Coquille, Sixes, Langlois, Prosper, and dozens of others. They were all here, all dressed in their Sunday best, all watching with expressions of love and acceptance.

Larkin walked down the aisle, her body bare, her head held high. She was beautiful. She was free. She was exactly who she’d always wanted to be.

I watched from the front row, naked as always, tears streaming down my face. Cape was beside me, his hand warm in mine. Sibley was on my other side, her eyes red from crying.

“She’s just like you,” Cape said, squeezing my hand.

“I know.” I smiled. “I couldn’t be prouder.”

Larkin reached the altar and took James’s hands. He was a good man, a kind man, a man who accepted her exactly as she was.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest began. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Larkin Crenshaw and James Whitmore. They have chosen to enter into this covenant of love before God and this community.”

I watched as Larkin and James exchanged their vows. They were simple, honest, and full of love.

“I promise to be exactly who I am,” Larkin said. “Naked and unashamed. Free and unafraid. For the rest of my life.”

“I promise to accept you exactly as you are,” James said. “Naked and unashamed. Free and unafraid. For the rest of my life.”

The priest pronounced them husband and wife. They kissed. The room erupted into cheers.

I stood up and walked to the front of the hall. I was naked, as always, my head held high.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said, pulling Larkin into a hug. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you, Nana.” She hugged me back. “I learned from the best.”

“No.” I pulled back, looking at her. “You learned from yourself. You chose freedom for yourself. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”

We hugged for a long moment. Then I turned to the crowd.

“Now, let’s celebrate!” I called out. “Let’s dance and laugh and be free!”

The room erupted into cheers. The music started. The dancing began.

The reception was held in the same room. The chairs were pushed aside, the tables were cleared, and the dancing began. Larkin and James had their first dance, a slow waltz that seemed to go on forever.

I watched from the edge of the dance floor, my heart full to bursting with love and pride.

“She’s grown up,” Cape said, appearing beside me.

“She has.” I smiled. “She’s grown up into a remarkable woman.”

“She learned from the best.”

I didn’t argue. I just leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too.”

We danced until our feet ached, then danced some more. The night was perfect, the celebration perfect, the community perfect.

And I knew, in that moment, that everything was exactly as it should be.

The wedding cake was cut. The champagne was poured. The speeches were made. Everyone was laughing, crying, celebrating.

I was standing in the corner, watching the festivities, when Sibley appeared beside me.

“Mom, can I talk to you?”

“Of course.”

She led me to a quiet corner, away from the noise and the music. Her eyes were red, her face streaked with tears.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “About everything. About the bet. About nudity. About Larkin.”

“Yes?”

“I was so angry at first. So scared. I thought you were ruining your life. I thought you were ruining Larkin’s life.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

“Sibley—”

“Let me finish.” She took my hands. “You showed me what it means to be free. You showed me what it means to be yourself, without apology. And you gave that gift to Larkin. You gave her the courage to be exactly who she is.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes. “Sibley—”

“I want to try it,” she said. “The nudity. Just once. To see what it feels like.”

“Sibley, you don’t have to—”

“I know. But I want to.” She nodded, her eyes steady. “I want to know what it feels like to be like you.”

I didn’t say anything. I just watched as Sibley reached for the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down, letting the dress fall to the floor. She was wearing a slip underneath, a simple white one that covered her from chest to knee.

“Keep going,” I said. “You’re almost there.”

Sibley pulled off the slip. She was standing in the middle of the bingo hall, completely naked, her arms crossed over her chest.