behave when it’s reciprocated.
Where that leaves us––I don’t know. Or takes us, for that matter. But I’m more than willing to find out. And hey, it’s not like I’m getting ahead of myself. I know this is a temporary thing. Everyone needs human touch once in a while. I’m not deluding myself into thinking I’m the girl of his dreams. Maybe he’s just as lonely as I am. Everybody needs somebody sometime, right?
“They’re here!” Nan exclaims seeing the delivery truck pull up to the service entrance. Once the flowers are schlepped inside, we finish setting up.
Two hours later the wedding party begins to trickle in. One by one, they take a seat in one of the white Chippendale chairs on the flagstone patio. The nondenominational ceremony will be held outside overlooking the lake, under an arch made of white birch branches adorned with white flowers.
While the last of the guests arrive and take their seats, the minister takes her place on the alter.
Meanwhile, I hang back, leaning against the side of the house to watch. The backyard slopes down all the way to the lake’s edge so it’s a bird’s eye view from this angle.
The music starts and the groom comes down the aisle, shaking hands with guests, a goofy smile plastered on his boyish face. His expression when he finally steps on stage says it all. It’s the face of a man in love, more than happy to be getting married today.
I can’t help but wonder if there’s a man out there, somewhere, that will look like that for me one day. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I sure hope so.
The best man turns and a pang of recognition hits me. It takes me a moment to pin point why he looks familiar. His face is more angular. He’s shed about fifty pounds and added a lot of muscle, but the eyes are the same. It’s someone in my graduating class. Sean Gordon or something, I think.
He seems to be having a good time, joking around with the groomsmen. Until the music starts. Then they all sober up and face the French doors, waiting for the bride to appear.
When she finally emerges, led by three bridesmaids and two adorable flower girls, the guests turn in their seats to watch, faces lighting up as she comes down the aisle escorted by her very proud father. The crowd claps and cheers. A few even whistle, making me laugh. I’ve never seen such a rowdy wedding ceremony.
Meanwhile, the bride is unconventionally beautiful. Willowy, ethereal, a woodland pixie with short dark hair and an easy smile. No veil, her hair is decorated with a wreathe of vines and white flowers, her dress is a flowing mass of white chiffon. And she’s obviously incandescently in love with her groom judging by the way she’s looking at him. Her father hands her over to the man she’s about to marry and the ceremony begins.
I don’t know what it is about this wedding, but I am swept away by the raw emotion emanating from the crowd and the couple. This is the stuff of legends and fairytales. This is what my sister has, what I aspire to. Unchecked, a tear escaped down my cheek and I wipe it away. There’s no lonelier feeling than being around true love.
The ceremony starts and soon enough it’s time for the vows, which the couple has written.
“I never believed in love at first bite until your dog chased me down the street and took a chunk out of my calf. Dexter’s no longer with us, but I have to believe it was all part of his grand plan to bring us together,” the groom starts. “Thanks, Dex. I forgive you for the eight stitches.” The crowd laughs. “Since then, you’ve given me seven of the best years of my life, Amy…” Taking a deep breath, tears begin to fall down his face. The bride, tears in her eyes too, reaches out and wipes them away for him. And in turn, he kisses her palm.
“Loving you has made me stronger, kinder, wiser, and more patient,” he continues, voice shaking. “You’ve taught me that love is bigger than time and space, more powerful than cancer, and more enduring than anything in this world. And whatever we face, whatever life has in store for us, I vow to make you laugh when you feel crappy. I vow never to hold it against you when you yell at me about leaving the wet