that late November day, casting the beach in a beautiful pinkish glow. There was barely a person in sight…except for the small group of friends and family who had dropped everything and flew out here to be with us.
“Are you ready, mi bichito?” a scruff voice asked, startling me.
I turned to him and smiled. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
Looking at me affectionately, moisture pooled in my father’s eyes. He placed his hands on my arms and surveyed me, his eyes growing bright. “For years, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, let alone be able to stand by your side during one of the most important days of your life.” Reaching up, he cupped my cheek. I leaned into his warmth, recalling all the times he would push me on a swing when I was a little girl. I didn’t remember much about my childhood, but that memory was strong.
“You look so much like your mother.” He let out a shallow sigh. “You always have, but today, it’s unmistakable that you are your mother’s daughter.”
“I’m your daughter, too, Dad.”
“I know, but I really see her in you today. She would have been so proud of the woman you’ve become. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I squeezed his hand gently as our eyes remained locked. It was taking everything I had not to break into tears, my emotions on overdrive.
“I want you to have this,” he said, breaking the tension. Reaching into the pocket of his linen pants, he pulled out a small box and handed it to me.
“What is it?” I asked, caressing the black velvet.
“If you open it, you’ll find out.” He winked.
Letting out a small laugh, I shook my head. “I know where I got my sarcasm from, I guess,” I retorted, opening the box to see a beautiful turquoise bracelet. It looked to be an antique, the gold holding the turquoise stones together almost tarnished. I picked it up and felt its weight, wondering how he had come to own such a remarkable piece of jewelry. I looked up at my dad, my brows furrowed.
“Your mother wore that on the day we got married, as did her mother, and her mother, and so on. It’s been in your family for centuries, its roots dating all the way back to the Guaymi tribe in Panama. Ages ago, I promised her you would wear it on your wedding day, as well.” He reached for the bracelet and unclasped it.
“I’d be honored.” A lump formed in my throat as I held my arm toward my father and allowed him to secure the bracelet around my wrist. His fingers lingered on my skin and our eyes met. I had gone years without my father’s touch, and all I could do was pray that this wasn’t the last time I’d ever feel it. This moment was bittersweet for me, the reminder of all the troubles I had tried to ignore the past several weeks rushing forward. I didn’t want this to be goodbye between us, but I couldn’t help but shake the feeling it would be.
“Well…” My dad cleared his throat and I snapped out of it, adjusting my composure as best I could. “We better get going. We don’t want to keep the groom waiting.” He held out his elbow for me to grab on to. “Ready, mi bichito?”
I nodded. “Always, Papa.” I placed my hand in his arm and he escorted me out the front door and onto the large deck of the beach house. I lifted my floor length champagne-colored dress so as to not trip on it and made my way down the short steps onto the beach, trying to savor the moment of feeling my father’s warmth next to me.
With each step I took past the handful of people we invited, I grew more at ease. The nervous jitters that overwhelmed me just moments ago were absent, and I knew this was where I was meant to be…making this journey with my father at my side, my eyes glued to Tyler’s, the sea breeze blowing his white linen shirt just slightly.
“Hey,” Tyler said as I approached him.
“Hey,” I replied.
“Hey…,” he said once more, his eyes roaming to my cleavage that the halter top of my dress made more voluptuous.
“Hey,” I repeated.
“Hey,” Jenna said, giggling as she and Brayden stood next to Father Slattery, both of them grinning.
My father grabbed my hand, snapping me out of my daze, and placed it