Once and for All(96)

“That’s where most allergies originate, though,” she said, blowing her nose. “You forget I’m marrying a med student. Who probably did not expect, after all this planning and money, to be wed to someone whose nose is redder than a clown’s.”

“I’m sure that is not what Kevin cares about,” I told her, bending down to fluff the bottom of her form-fitting, lace-covered dress around her shoes. “Weddings are about love, and love tolerates everything. Even red noses.”

“Nicely put.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re good at your job.”

“I was trained by the best,” I replied. “And I’ve got an extra pack of tissues. Slide one of these by your bouquet, and let’s go. You don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Another sneeze, and she was following me out of the bathroom and then the room, as I texted ON OUR WAY to my mom. As I pushed the button for the elevator, she said, “I bet you have a lot of these kind of stories to tell, huh? Allergic brides. Cold feet. Missing grooms.”

“Missing sons of brides,” I reminded her. “It was your brother I had to drag in from the parking lot, remember?”

She sighed, making a face as the elevator doors slid open. “As if I could forget. You’re a saint for putting up with him, much less dating him.”

“Well, it’s never dull,” I agreed.

“What do you remember most, though?” she asked me, as we stepped inside. “Your best wedding story, ever. Humor me.”

I had to think about it. There was the time the groom, nervous, stumbled backward into a pool during the vows. The mother-in-law who got drunk at the rehearsal dinner and made an hour-long toast, working her way around the room detailing every beef she had with guests in attendance. The missing ring bearer. The Disaster. Distinct as they happened, now they all seemed like one big wedding, ongoing, leading all the way up to this one, my last for the near future. I left for school in six days.

“There was this one girl,” I said, as the elevator creaked into motion. “Back in the spring. She was in tears, so scared. Asked me if I believed in true love lasting forever. It felt like a test.”

“What did you tell her?”

I thought back to Deborah, sitting on the floor of the anteroom, her expensive dress puffed out all around her. “Nothing,” I said. “I didn’t know what to say.”

She looked at me, then down at the flowers she was holding, pink roses with white lilies, so fragrant I could smell nothing else. “Sounds intense. And maybe like a sign?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I’m hopeful it all worked out.”

Just then, the doors slid open, and there was my mother with the bridesmaids and flower girl, all lined up with their backs to us, ready for the procession. But I was looking at the end of the line, to the boy in a black tux with a rogue curl on his forehead who now turned to face us, a smile breaking across his face. Seeing him, I knew what I’d say now if Debbie was again before me, posing this same question. I wouldn’t even hesitate.

Yes. Definitely.

As I passed by, Ambrose looped an arm around my waist, pulling me into him. “I’m thinking about falling backward into the pool,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Just to liven things up.”

“We don’t need any more life. Just focus on your job,” I said, although I lingered in that spot, against him, that I’d come to love.

“Says the person who is supposed to be off the clock,” he replied, although he did straighten up and get into formation. “You just can’t do it, can you?”

“I can and I am,” I told him. Or at least I was trying.

“Okay, let’s do this,” my mom called out, gesturing for Bee to get into her place next to Ambrose, who offered his arm, giving me a wink as he did so. I smiled as she took it, then moved around them to make my way to the doors that led to the patio. When I pushed them open, William gave the signal, and the string quartet by the pool began to play.

I love this part, I thought as I moved up the side aisle to my seat in the third row. Technically I was a guest today, although old habits clearly did die hard. And that was just fine, I thought, turning with the rest of the crowd to face the aisle as the mother of the bride began her walk. It was rare for things to be perfect and organized anyway, even with your best efforts. Embrace the messy and when things do come together just right, you’ll always be pleasantly surprised.

This was a lesson I’d been learning a lot in the last couple of weeks, as one thing after another did just that. First, there was Ambrose. We’d been together ever since that night of my party, although bringing him back to the house and telling Ben everything that had happened was, well, awkward to say the least. He’d been angry, and rightfully so, leaving with his roses and racket and a few choice words about my character. By that night, every picture of us was deleted from his profile, not that I’d expected differently. I could only hope he would forgive me someday, as well as find a girl with whom to make his own epic, real story.

My mom and William were also still both coupled, bringing the number of our little band of cynics down to zero. We continued to let loose, though, when it came to brides, weddings, CGs, overbearing mothers-in-law, and people who charged the cupcakes before dinner was even served. As for Jilly, she was already crying about being separated from Michael Salem when she left for school at East U, even as I pointed out he would be less than an hour away, attending the U itself. Also, he drove a food truck, so was therefore mobile. On the upside for her, despite the naps, Mrs. Baker was not pregnant again. At least, not yet.