My Big Fat Fake Wedding(91)

“Not in a church you don’t,” Estella says before blushing as she looks at Father O’Flannigan.

“I’d hand out Hail Marys, but I doubt they’d be useful,” Father O’Flannigan says with a smile. “Perhaps you ladies would like to head up to the choir loft and prepare? Ah, Violet, there you are.”

“Where’s Papa?” I ask worriedly, and Mom waves me down.

“Papa was getting a bit hot, so he’s sitting down just inside the sanctuary,” Mom says. “He’ll take your arm as you step in . . . kinda like Kate Middleton, right?”

I sigh in relief and turn to Abi. “Okay, what now?”

She smiles sweetly, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Now, you go marry my brother and have your happily ever after, one way or another. You deserve this, Vi.”

I know what she’s saying. She’s probably known for longer than I have, but I need to say the words to someone, even if I can’t say them to Ross. “I love him, Abs.”

She nods. “I know you do. You always have. And he loves you too. He’s just a bit slow on the uptake. Sorry about that, but no take-backsies. He’s your problem now.”

If only that were true.

She takes a big breath and switches into boss mode. “Okay, ladies, you heard Father, get upstairs. Ave Maria and then the wedding march. Courtney, head around to Ross’s room and tell him to line up at the front. Father, you know what to do. Ms. Russo, you’ll walk in first, then the kids, Archie, and me. Last, but certainly not least, Violet with Papa.” We all nod along after receiving our assignments. “And break! I’ve always wanted to say that,” she says with a chuckle.

I hear the music change, something slow and driving, and through the doors, I hear the crowd die down. I didn’t realize how loud it was until it got quiet. “How many people are in there?”

Archie pats my hand. “It’ll be fine, Vi. Hold your head up and slow march yourself down there. It doesn’t matter if there are five or five hundred. The only one that matters is the hottie at the front.”

I laugh a bit. “A tad bit more than five and a lot less than five hundred, I’m sure.” He makes a face, but I think he’s kidding. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell with him.

The wedding planner, Sarah, sticks her head out. “Mother of the bride?”

Over her shoulder, as Mom slips through, I get my first peek of the crowd.

“It’s . . . insane,” I whisper, fear gripping me tightly as I squeeze my beautiful bouquet when I see the new mass of humanity. The church is designed to hold five hundred, and I figured that would be way more than enough. My family is ridiculously large, but Ross only invited a few college friends, his immediate family, and the people at work.

Now, the church, which was plenty big enough in my plan, is swollen to overflowing. Folding chairs have been set up on the end of every pew, and I get a glance of men standing along the walls in suits of every shade of grey.

“That’s not a wedding crowd. That’s a convention!”

Abi glances over, smiling a little acidly. “Sorry. Mom invited basically everyone we know from every social club and circle she’s ever been in, and no one at the office was willing to piss Dad off with the way he’s been acting, according to Courtney, so the entire company is here. From the mailroom to the board. And with your family . . . guess it’s gotten pretty big.”

“Fire Marshall’s gonna shut us down,” Archie whispers, but before I can fully freak out, the music changes again and I can hear the triplets singing a beautiful rendition of Ave Maria with harmonies that blend perfectly. At least that’s going well. “Our turn. Let’s go, Abi. She’ll be fine.” Archie glares at me, daring me to prove him wrong. Abi pats my hand and smiles.

They go in, Michael and Anna leading the way, and leave me alone in the hallway. It’s then that I hear it. The Wedding March.

My throat tightens up, and as the double doors of the church swing open for me, all the worry drops away. Papa’s right where he’s supposed to be, standing next to the second pew to take my arm and walk me down the aisle, and as he kisses my hand lovingly, I know this has all been worth it.

Ross stands at the altar, with Kaede and Courtney next to him.

I have a vague impression of lush greenery surrounding the altar, but my eyes are locked on Ross. He’s standing tall, like a prince, my knight in saving armor. Except . . . wait . . . is his tuxedo green? I smile, delighted that he’d do something so unique and surprising.

It’s perfect.

It’s my wedding day.

But I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t what it looks like. This is a charade, a performance . . . it’s not real. Except to the man already standing by my side.

I look at Papa, my reason for all of this. He’s openly crying, smiling so broadly that I feel better. All of this stress and drama were worth it.

“Violet, my beautiful one, you make this old man happy,” Papa whispers as we reach the end of the aisle and I turn to him, exchanging cheek kisses.

Turning to Ross, Papa gives him my hand. “Protect and love her the way I’ve loved her, young man. And you’ll never go wrong.”

“I will, sir,” Ross says, taking my hand, and Papa steps forward to kiss Ross on both cheeks too. He surprises Ross, and there are a few laughs from the audience, but it’s perfect for today, and as Papa sits, I’m struck with how perfect everything’s been.