Before I Do(55)

He reached out to stop her and pulled her back toward him, his face inches from hers as he said softly, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Amy, because for me, it does have to be you. I moved the whole table’s seating cards around so I could sit next to you. I have thought about kissing you, a lot, and I definitely want to kiss you again, but I’d prefer you to be able to stand up straight when I do. I want you to remember every second, like I know I will.”

She staggered backward slightly, which wasn’t helping her cause. She felt admonished, but also that there might be something quite romantic in what he was saying.

“So, you’ll give me your number and I’ll call you tomorrow, and I’ll ask you out properly,” he said calmly. “I’m hoping you will say yes.”

He stayed where he was, his face inches from hers. How was he showing this level of self-control? She averted her gaze; she wanted to kiss him again so badly. His lips felt so good, his neck smelled so wonderful. She was not used to this, to a man saying no.

“Have it your way, but I might have lost interest by tomorrow,” she said, steadying herself and then letting him take her arm to guide her back to the tent.

“What if I promise to plant you another tree?” he asked quietly.

“Well, then we’ll see,” she said, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “But it has to be a good tree, not a crappy spindly one that all the other trees pick on, or one that’s got tree disease or something.”

Josh pulled out a pretend notepad and mimed writing, “Take back crappy spindly tree with tree disease.”

Inside, Audrey ordered a soft drink at the bar. Josh picked up a paper drink parasol and put it into her glass. She responded by taking another one, opening it, and tucking it behind his ear. It was a silly thing to do, and they both laughed. The wedding photographer captured the moment. It was the first photo taken of the two of them together. It would be Audrey’s favorite.





30


Sixty Minutes Before I Do



The photographer, Sian, was late. She and her assistant were supposed to arrive two hours ago to take photos of the bridal party getting ready, but they’d been caught in traffic on the A303.

“Half your guests will be stuck in it if they’re driving down from London,” Sian said. “It’s always terrible around Stonehenge. Probably the worst thing that can happen on your wedding day—no guests.”

Audrey didn’t have space in her brain for any more crises. All she wanted was a moment alone to read the letter from her father. Then she wanted to walk up the aisle, in a dress that covered her ass, with bridesmaids who weren’t crying; marry Josh; and silence the call of the void that was telling her to jump off the cake.

“Can you take the dress off, so I can take a photo of it hanging up on the closet?” Sian asked, adjusting the curtains to allow more natural light in.

“No,” Clara said, a little too forcefully. “We practically had to sew her into it. She can’t take it off. Besides, she’s done her makeup now, it would come off on the silk.”

Everyone looked at Audrey, to see what she wanted to do.

“Let’s just take some photos like this, with Miranda and Clara.”

As they posed for photos, Hillary poked his head around the door.

“Let’s get one with Hillary too,” said Clara, beckoning him over. “He’s basically a bonus bridesmaid.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Granny Parker wants a quick word with you, Auds,” Hillary said with a grimace, knowing how little Audrey would want to go and have a “quick word” with Granny Parker. “She’s in the morning room. Do you want me to tell her you’re too busy?”

Audrey exhaled. If she went to see Granny Parker, she might be able to find a quiet place to read her father’s letter on the way. There was an hour before the service, she still had time. She took a step toward the door.

“You can’t go out there in your dress!” cried Clara. “People will see you.”

“Help me take it off then,” Audrey said.

“Okay, wait,” said Clara, holding up a palm. Then she quickly pulled a pillowcase off one of the pillows on the bed. “Put this on your head, just to protect the silk from any makeup,” she said, plonking the pillowcase over Audrey. “Then we just need to shimmy it off, being careful of the weak seam.”

Audrey stood, with a pillowcase on her head, while Audrey and Miranda carefully lifted the silk gown back up over her head. Clara shouted, “Shimmy! Shimmy!” the whole time, as though Audrey knew what “shimmy” meant or how she was supposed to do it. She heard several clicks of a camera.

“These are not really the kind of getting-ready photos I want, Sian,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillowcase. “Me in my underpants with a pillowcase on my head.”

“These are brilliant,” said Sian. “You’ll look back and laugh about this moment one day.”

“Will I?” Audrey said through gritted teeth. When the dress was finally off, Miranda pulled the pillowcase from Audrey’s head while Clara returned the dress to its hanger. Audrey threw on the clothes she had been wearing earlier, then picked up her white clutch and headed for the door.

Walking along the corridor, she found an empty flight of stairs and sat down to open the letter from her father. She felt her heart in her throat as she pulled the piece of paper from the envelope. New words. She had read almost every word he had written, that he would ever write, and here in front of her were new ones. Her eyes nearly stumbled with eagerness.