The Woman Who Wanted Someone to Fall Asleep With

You may recognise Tanya from an earlier story I shared. If so, I hope you’ll forgive meeting her again here.

Memoirs are rarely told in a perfectly straight line, and some people become too important to appear only once. Tanya was one of those people.

She came to work for me during the early years of the college and remained in my life long after those years had passed. To tell this part of my story properly, I need to return to the point where our paths first crossed.

The college was flourishing by then. From the outside, it probably looked as though I had everything I had once worked so hard to achieve. Yet beneath the busyness, I carried a quiet restlessness I rarely spoke about. I couldn’t have explained it clearly at the time. I only knew that something within me felt unsettled, as though part of me was still searching for something I had not yet found.

Some people come into your life quietly and leave footprints everywhere.

Tanya was one of my youngest staff members, and from the very beginning, I knew there was something unmistakably special about her. She moved through the world in a way that was entirely her own, and it showed in everything — in her quirky expressions, in the unexpected way she saw things, and in the little comments that could make me laugh, stop, and think all at once.

At first, those differences were simply part of who she was. Before long, they became part of what made all of us love her. Looking back, I cannot really say when she stopped being “one of my staff” and became something much dearer. It happened quietly, naturally, the way the most important things often do.

Somewhere along the way, Tanya became family.

Most mornings began the same way. I would be in my office, already halfway into the day’s work, and then I would hear her bright, affectionate voice at the door:

“Good morning, Stef-a-Nanny.”

It never failed to make me smile.

One morning, Tanya poked her head around my office door and said, in that cheerful way of hers, ‘Hi, Stef-a-Nanny.’

I looked up from my desk and smiled. ‘Good morning, Tanya. How’s that young man of yours?’

‘Lang, well, he wants to get married soon. I said yes, cuz then I’ll have someone to fall asleep with.’

‘When?’

‘Next week. We want Tyler and Bert to be able to come.’

Tyler and Bert were much-loved regulars in our student salon, and by then they were woven into the life of the place as naturally as any of us. They were a devoted couple, full of warmth, wit, and mischief, and the girls adored them. They swept in as if the salon were their natural stage — delighted by dress-ups, enchanted by hair, alive to every shimmer, flourish, and fabulous possibility, especially if the conversation drifted towards the Mardi Gras in Sydney. They were in the thick of every joke, every whispered scrap of gossip, every burst of excitement over colour, clothes, and transformation, and they gave all that affection back with style, sparkle, and generous hearts. Before long, it was impossible to imagine the place without them. They belonged to us, and we to them, in that easy, tender way that happens when people become part of the rhythm of your days.

I did a double-take.

‘What! Have you organised outfits, bridesmaids, best man, your dress …’

My voice trailed off as I tried to picture how on earth we were going to pull this off.

‘I was wonderin’ if you could help with all that, you knowing about the high and low fashion and stuff,’ Tanya replied nonchalantly.

‘Get them all here this afternoon, pronto, Tanya,’ I said. ‘We’d better get on to it. There’s no time to waste.’

What followed was one of those glorious flurries that can only happen in a small town when everyone decides something must be done and done quickly. Lauren, my very efficient secretary and organiser of my heart as well, and I rushed downtown and came back loaded with armfuls of possibilities — dresses, suits, shirts, shoes, and all the bits in between. The boutiques were wonderful once I explained the situation. Nobody hesitated. Everyone in town loved Tanya, and once word spread that she was getting married the following week, the whole thing seemed to gather a life of its own.

‘Look!’ Lauren exclaimed, pointing out the bay window.

A moment later, I looked up and saw Lang’s truck pulling in, carrying the bridesmaids and best man.

‘Tyler and Bert, my best friends, are my bridesmaids,’ Tanya said, and turned to introduce the third member of the party.

‘Kelly is Lang’s sister. She’s the best man. Real butch she is, too.’

‘How exciting! I love dressing up, don’t you?’ Tyler said with a smile.

‘More suits, Lauren. There’s a change of plans,’ I said, raising an eyebrow and trying not to laugh. ‘And those frilled blouses, the lavender ones. Also, the pin-striped suit with the lavender shirt and grey silk tie.’

The whole afternoon became a whirl of trying on outfits, facials, manicures, laughter, opinions, and utter delight. I can still see Tanya standing there in that soft, romantic A-line gown with the asymmetrical ruching, elegant and floaty, with white roses sewn across the skirt. She looked exquisite — not polished coldly or formally, but glowing in a way that was completely, unmistakably her.

‘Lang will think I look like a wedding cake and might want to eat me,’ she said innocently, to roars of laughter.

‘Cake!’ I said, suddenly appalled. ‘Have we ordered a cake?’

‘I’ll take care of everything,’ Lauren assured me.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear, and I remember thinking that even the weather seemed determined to be kind to Tanya. The bridesmaids, in their steel-grey suits and ruffled lavender blouses with sprigs of lavender tucked into their lapels, looked dapper. Kelly, in her pin-striped light-grey suit, purple shirt and silver tie, made a splendid best man.

And Tanya … well, Tanya was a vision. She stood there in tiers of lace and satin, carrying white roses, calla lilies, lavender, and baby’s breath, her veil soft over that sweet face that so often radiated kindness. She looked full of love for the man she was about to marry, and there was something about that sight that went straight to my heart.

Scully and Truman, in lavender waistcoats, lay side by side under Gong’s pew, and I remember thinking how completely unfazed they were by all the fuss. If a dog wants a mate, that’s it; he finds one, they seemed to be saying. But humans have to have all the fanfare. Oh well, that’s their way. Let’s have a snooze. Might be some good tucker later.

The minister commenced the ceremony.

‘Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire. Marriage is intended to be a way in which a man and a woman help each other to become what God intended, their deepest and truest selves. Marriage should transform, as husband and wife make one another their work of art. Each must give the other space and freedom.

‘Lang, you may now say your wedding vows.’

Lang blushed a bright red and looked at Tanya with the eyes of a man smitten for life, and all of us could see it.

‘From this moment, I, Lang, take you, Tanya, as my best friend for life. I pledge to honour, encourage, and support you through our walk together. When our way becomes difficult, I promise to stand by you and uplift you so that, through our union, we can accomplish more than we could alone. I promise to work on our love and always make you a priority in my life. With every beat of my heart, I will love you. This is my solemn vow.’

Standing beside Chris, I felt tears well in my eyes as he reached for my hand and I held on tightly.

‘You may say your vows now, Tanya.’ The minister smiled at her.

As I watched Tanya move through that day, so certain, so open in her love, I became aware of something I had not fully allowed myself to see before. It was not that anything was missing in my life, nor that I had lost something along the way. It was something quieter than that.

A question.

Not about Chris. Never about Chris.

But about myself.

‘I, Tanya, take you, Lang, as the love of my life. I vow to be patient with you and the circumstances in our lives. I vow to be kind to all people we come across. I promise not to be quick to anger, but to think before I speak and act. I vow not to keep a record of wrongs, but to always keep the happy memories alive. Through God, our love will never fail … and I will wash your socks and make your favourite shepherd’s pie.’

The grounds of Carpenter’s Cottage had never looked more charming than they did that evening. As the fairy lights twinkled in the trees and the haunting strains of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’ filled the air, I glanced at Gong, the old carpenter, and saw his face soften with memory. I knew he was thinking of Martha, his young bride, and of the long love they had shared. She was gone by then, but I also knew those memories still lived in him. He reached down to pat Scully’s head, and the old dog looked up at him with such steady devotion that it seemed to say, I know; I’m here for you. I love you with all my doggy heart.

I glanced across at Tyler and Bert with their arms around each other’s shoulders, their heads leaning together, and felt a rush of tenderness for them, too. Whatever the future might bring, they had each other in that moment, and there was something deeply beautiful in that.

And just like that, Tanya and Lang were married.

As I watched the happy young couple, I felt a strange ache stir in me alongside the joy. Even then, I think I knew I had been carrying a restlessness I could not quite name. Chris, dear man, stood beside me, steady as ever, simply trying to love me well, while something within me began to question who I had become in the life I had worked so hard to build.

Scully and Truman each got a sausage and were off to the stream to chase a rabbit or maybe catch a trout or two.

Later, when the music had softened and the laughter drifted further into the night, Chris and I walked home together in the darkness. The air had turned cooler, and I could still hear the faint echo of celebration behind us — a burst of distant laughter, a note of music carried lightly on the wind before it disappeared.

The fairy lights at the cottage shimmered faintly in the distance, slowly fading as we made our way along the road. Somewhere ahead of us, Scully and Truman bounded off into the shadows, their movement quick and joyful, disappearing into the dark as though the night itself belonged to them.

Chris walked beside me, steady as always.

I could hear the quiet rhythm of our footsteps, feel the familiarity of his presence, the unspoken ease that had been built over years of shared life. There was comfort in that. There was history. There was love. And yet, as we walked, I became aware of something I had not expected.

Tanya had held up a mirror to me that day.

Not through anything she said, but through the way she stood so completely inside her own moment — so certain, so unguarded, so entirely present in her love for Lang and in the life she was beginning. And standing there at forty, watching her, I realised how far I had moved from that kind of certainty. Not because my life was lacking. Not because Chris had failed me. But because somewhere along the way, I had become quieter within myself. More careful. Less certain of what I felt, what I wanted, and what it all meant.

But something within me had begun to ask questions I could not yet answer.

We reached home in silence, and the night settled gently around us. Behind us, the last of the music faded completely, leaving only the familiar sounds of home waiting ahead.

Looking back now, I can see that Tanya’s wedding was never really the story.

The story was the question it awakened. A question that would stay with me long after the flowers had faded, the music had stopped, and the young couple had begun their new life together.

As for Tanya, she never really left my life. Long after the college years were behind us, she remained a dear friend. Even today, she is still part of my world, and many of the qualities that made us love her then remain the same.

And if I asked her now why she married Lang, I suspect she would still smile and give the same answer she gave back then.

“Because I wanted someone to fall asleep with.”

After all these years, I think that answer still makes perfect sense to her.

Thank you for reading, dear friends ღ.

The questions that stirred in me that day would stay with me for many years. If you’d like to follow the journey so far, you’ll find the earlier chapters of The Long Road of Love memoir series on my profile.

© Stephanie Roberts