The Rites of Life: Husband and Wife

By Liz Barry | Audio slideshow by Kim Raff

The bridesmaids take turns twisting Christin Smith’s hair into an elaborate up-do. Every curl must be in place. One false move risks a burn from the curling iron.

The air smells like vanilla perfume and hair spray. Armed with mirrors and makeup, Christin and her nine bridesmaids have transformed the recital hall in the basement of Snidow Chapel at Lynchburg College into a makeshift beauty parlor.

At 2:40 p.m., Christin examines her reflection one last time. Her dark hair is pulled up into a cascade of ringlets, secured by a tiara and invisible bobby bins. Her dress is laced up, her veil is pinned, and her bouquet is stocked with tissues.

“Oh my God,” she says slowly. “I’m getting married. I’m going to cry. I’m going to cry right now.”



The bride-to-be’s nerves are a marked departure from the morning, when she strutted into the chapel singing the ’80s hit “I’m So Excited.” Now, her breathing is erratic. A bridesmaid rubs her arms to calm her down. For four minutes, Christin swings between fear and excitement.

Suddenly, her face becomes calm. With a glance to Mom, Christin flashes a big grin.
“I’m ready,” she says.

Meanwhile, it takes Elijah Davis five minutes to change out of his jeans and polo shirt into his white tuxedo.

Now, it’s 2:48 — 12 minutes before the wedding. The bridal party has been roaming the hallways, pinning boutonnieres to tuxedos, delivering flowers to flower girls and making last-minute trips to the bathroom.

Elijah is nowhere to be found.

He has escaped into Practice Room No. 1, a rehearsal room no bigger than a closet. He sits alone next to a piano that is strewn with tuxedo bags, jeans, socks and an empty water bottle.

Elijah stares at a crinkled piece of notebook paper. His brows are furrowed, and his stomach is in knots. His lips move silently over the words he wrote last night, the words he will recite to Christin on the altar.

Five more minutes.

Lunchroom romance
Today, July 19, marks the beginning of Christin and Elijah’s life together — a moment five years in the making.

They met in the lunchroom at Heritage High School, sophomore year. Christin thought Elijah was cute. Elijah thought Christin was annoying. They started talking, though, and two weeks later they were an item.

The couple clicked. They exchanged secrets and love letters and late-night phone calls. After three months, they said, “I love you.”

But their parents were strict. Very strict.

Elijah and Christin waited two and a half years — when they both turned 18 - for their first date: dinner at O’Charley’s, followed by a stroll through Wal-Mart. It was their first time alone together in public. No friends. No chaperones. Just the two of them.

A few months later, they left Lynchburg for separate colleges in North Carolina. Christin went to Barton College in Wilson to study deaf and hard of hearing education, and Elijah went to North Carolina State University in Raleigh for a degree in animal science.

Some friends and family thought the relationship would fizzle. It didn’t.
In May 2006, Elijah proposed at the Peaks of Otter over a picnic of fried chicken, potatoes, and macaroni and cheese from KFC.

Now the 21-year-olds are ready to take a leap of faith and say, “I do.”

I now pronounce you …
Elijah and Christin stand face-to-face on the altar of the packed church. The crowd is hushed. Sunlight streams through the large windows.

The Elder Garry Davis, Elijah’s father, performs the ceremony. When the vows are exchanged and the rings in place, the couple present personal expressions — the most stressful part.

Elijah, who hates public speaking, recites the speech he memorized this morning. His voice is barely audible at first, but crescendos at the end:

“I think it was only about three months when I told you that I loved you, and I meant every word of that. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I’ll love you until the last day that I ever walk the face of this Earth.”

The church gushes “oohs” and “aahs.” Christin is speechless. Between sniffles, she introduces her big surprise: she’s performing the song “Makes Me Whole” by Amel Larrieux in sign language.

Afterwards, Elijah’s father’s voice fills the room. For the first time, he breaks from his solemn tone.

“Now I pronounce them husband and wife. King Elijah,” Davis says with a dramatic pause, “you may now kiss your queen.”

They lean in for a quick smooch. The church erupts into cheers.

It’s official.

A big step
Marriage brings a new level of intimacy. Though Christin and Elijah have known each other for more than five years, they have never lived together. As husband and wife, they take a step into that unknown.

After the honeymoon in Miami, the newlyweds will move into a three-bedroom apartment in Wilson, where Christin will finish her last year of college. Elijah will commute 50 miles to veterinary school in Raleigh.

They will share small things, like toothpaste, and big things, like a bed. For religious and personal reasons, the couple say they decided to wait until after marriage for sex. Now their relationship takes on yet another layer.

As they enter uncharted territory, Christin and Elijah bring shared values and years of history. They share a Christian faith, and a view on how to balance kids and careers. Not to mention the simple pleasures, like riding bikes, eating stuffed crust pizza and watching their all-time favorite movie, “Brown Sugar.”

Over time, they have learned the value of compromise. Though they agree on a lot, they definitely have their differences.

Take kids. They both want a family; the question is how soon. Christin wants to have children early. If Elijah had his way, they’d wait another 15 years. They have decided on meeting somewhere in the middle (five more years).

Even simple decisions can turn complicated. On a recent shopping trip, the couple spent an entire day debating the merit of every washer and dryer in the store before settling on one. It offered a glimpse of the day-to-day compromise to come as they share a life together.

The whirlwind and the calm
The celebration migrates from the chapel to the Ninth Street Parlor downtown — a swank ballroom decked with crystal chandeliers and sepia photographs of old-time Lynchburg.

The room overflows with guests. Family, friends, teachers and colleagues have came to celebrate.

Husband and wife are the last to arrive. They are greeted with a standing ovation, followed by a barrage of hugs and kisses.

When the commotion calms, Elijah seeks refuge in the back room, away from the crowds. He sinks into a big leather chair and shuts his eyes.

“I’m tired,” he sighs.

Elijah is jolted from the moment by a voice over the loudspeaker. The DJ orders him to report to the dance floor for the first dance — “Speechless” by Michael Jackson.
The reception is a whirlwind of cake-cutting, bouquet-throwing, picture-taking — all the essentials. Elijah and Christin never touch a bite of their food.

At 8:20, the couple pull away in Christin’s yellow Nissan Xterra SUV and head to Elijah’s parent’s home to change for a quiet dinner alone.

Christin sprawls across a wooden parlor chair in the living room, where a small group of Elijah’s family has congregated. Her skirt billows around her like a parachute. The day is slowly sinking in.

“I’m officially part of the family, Bro,” Christin says to her new cousin, L.A. Franklin Jr., or “Bro” for short.

“Sometimes I just can’t wake up from a nightmare,” Bro teases, before heading down the hall to check on the groom.

“Bro, is my husband back there? My hus — band?” she says with extra emphasis.

When the couple has changed, they go out for their first dinner as husband and wife. The destination is O’Charley’s, the site of their first date. Afterwards, they will drive two hours to Greensboro and a catch a plane in the morning to Miami.

Christin and Elijah slide into the booth and pore over the menus, chatting about the food options. They reach across the table and clasp hands. For a moment they’re quiet as they finger each other’s wedding bands.