Superfan (Brooklyn #3)(56)

The bridesmaids come into view, escorted by groomsmen. Their dresses are all the same shade of deep pink, but in different styles cut to suit them.

So this is how weddings are done. I admit I never paid much attention before. But this is classy.

And I don’t feel like a wedding crasher, even if I am one. I spoke to everyone in the wedding party at some point this weekend. I feel weirdly invested.

Rebecca’s sister is the maid of honor. Smiling sweetly, she walks slowly down the aisle alone. But when she’s made it about halfway down, she stops and turns around.

And a tiny little boy in a miniature tuxedo toddles into view. He’s carrying a small sign that reads: Here Comes the Bride.

“Awwwww,” says the crowd.

Rebecca’s sister waves to him. He looks up, locking onto the sight of his mom, and then starts to toddle, hustling down the aisle until he is scooped up into her arms. She carries him to the front of the room, then hands him off to his grandma before taking her place at the front of the bridesmaids’ line.

“Well, that’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Silas whispers.

I give him a quick glance, taking in the curve of his freshly shaved cheek. The wedding must be making me a little crazy, because suddenly I have a crystalline image of Silas holding a baby boy in his arms, speaking to his child in a calm, even voice…

Okay, danger. Weddings are clearly like strong drugs, sending my emotions into overdrive. I don’t even know these people, I remind myself.

Then the crowd makes a happy noise, and I turn reflexively to see Rebecca in the doorway. And, wow. She’s resplendent in a white dress that reminds me of 1950s styles—with a wide V neckline falling in soft folds to a tea-length, asymmetrical hem. It’s fancy and simple at the same time.

And even though it’s a lovely image, what I notice most about Rebecca is the look on her face. She’s absolutely beaming. Her clear, happy smile tells me everything I need to know about her, and about how much this all means to her.

It’s not just pageantry that I’m witnessing. It’s more like hearing a great song for the first time. The melody is both new and familiar. And you’re tapping your foot along to the beat without even realizing you started.

When I glance in the other direction—at the groom—his face is flushed. He smiles, too. But then his lip trembles, and he raises a hand to flick away a tear that’s threatening to fall.

I bite my lip. Here we have this famous man—one of the wealthiest in the world—reduced to tears over the sight of Rebecca walking toward him in a white dress.

Suddenly I have the sniffles. Dear lord. I don’t know if I can survive this.

Rebecca makes her way toward her fiancé. She’s escorted down the aisle by Hugh somebody-or-other—the middle-aged manager of the team, and her coworker. Because the Bruisers give new meaning to the phrase “one big happy family,” apparently. After she takes her place across from her dazed groom, the officiant begins.

“Greetings to friends, old and new! It’s an honor to stand here today to celebrate the marriage vows of Nathan and Rebecca. This is my favorite part of the job. Christening babies is nice, too, but sometimes they cry.”

The crowd gives him a laugh.

“Now, in olden days—or maybe this only happens on television—” The crowd chuckles again. “—the minister would begin by asking whether anyone has an objection to this union. But I won’t be asking that question today. The two people standing before me are ready to make this commitment before God and their families.”

I swear the room lets out a happy sigh.

“I only mention this old tradition because in their case, I’ve learned that Nathan and Rebecca were their own worst obstacles to finding their place together. Some of us have to search the Earth for our soul mates. Sometimes we find that person right in front of us. And a few of us are too busy writing code and taking over the world to see her clearly.”

The crowd roars.

“Or…” The pastor waits a moment for the audience to quiet again. “Or maybe this is you. Maybe you do see that special woman, or that special man. Perhaps you know with whom you’d like to share your life. But you’re wasting precious time wondering whether you deserve this person. Maybe you’ve put aside your own heart, thinking that if you could just get that next promotion, or quit smoking, or lose another ten pounds…” He pats his belly. “Maybe then you’ll deserve the love your heart is ready to give.”

Why am I holding my breath? I let it out as quietly as I can.

Beside me, Silas squeezes my hand. But I don’t turn my head. I can’t. Because I don’t trust my expression right now. I don’t know what to think about this time on the island or Silas’s excellent company.

I don’t know if fate is trying to tell me something like: Hey girl. There’s more in store for you than that asshole you dated. Or if this trip is just a diversion so lovely that only a fool would try to make it last.

The pastor has asked Georgia to read a bible passage, and her lilting voice is the backdrop to my wandering thoughts. Tomorrow I’ll be on a plane back to L.A., where my manager is busy lining up collaborators for me to write and record with. “Business as usual,” she’d told me. “We will not be cowed.”

In a few weeks, Silas will be back to work, too. Ours is not like the story the pastor tells—where your true love is waiting right outside your office door. Even if my favorite bartender and I have that special something that makes sparks fly, we don’t have it on the same ends of the continent.