It’s not a question. Not a gentle inquiry.
“Um…”
Continuing to smile, she releases me from her intense gaze and begins fussing with the nametag set out in front of her plate. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s also okay to want to bash him over the head on a day-to-day basis.”
“I do.” I laugh. “Love him,” I finish with a nervous crackle in my voice. “And want to bash him unconscious on a daily basis.”
Reaching forward, she drops the name card and instead takes my hand. “These days, this early love…” The way her voice cracks almost undoes me. “These will be the best of your life. He’s going to frustrate you, but hold on, sweetheart. Hold on and don’t let him go.”
“I don’t think I can let him go anymore.” I play with the rings on her left hand. “What was it like?”
She pulls back just a little, and tilts her head with curiosity. “What was what like?”
“To fall in love with the same man, but fifty years ago? To run away from the plans your family made for you, and choose love instead?”
“Falling in love with the first Bryan was…” she sighs. “It was so easy. It was like gravity, a gentle slide. It was as natural as breathing air. And just like we need air…”
“You can’t breathe now that he’s gone?” Tears rest in my lashes and force me to sniffle. “It hurts?”
“Every single day,” she declares in a quiet whisper. “But he gave me such wonderful children. He gave me something to live for, and then those children had children, and now look; I’m sitting with the woman that has fallen deeply in love with the new Bry like he’s oxygen.”
I reach up and swipe a finger below my eye. “Yeah.” Then I press a hand to my stomach. “It’s hard to breathe when he’s not around.”
“I’m so blessed,” she murmurs, “so truly happy I get to watch you and my grandson during this time. Young love, the moments that you fight against because it feels too heavy, too consuming. I know it’s scary, but when you accept it, it’s like an exhilarating rollercoaster that you never want to get off of. You’re young, Maddi. You have time. But when it’s time, oooh,” she presses a hand to her heart, “I sincerely hope you make sons.”
“Do you regret it?”
Her eyes grow wide with surprise. “Regret what?”
“Falling in love with a man you couldn’t keep forever? If you knew how it would end, would you have done it anyway?”
She presses her trembling lips together and considers. Then she nods. “I would do it a thousand times. I would carry that hurt over and over again if it meant I could arrive right here, at this wedding, at this table, and watch my grandson love you. It’s the greatest gift you could give me, and it humbles me that I’m able to witness it.”
“You humble me.” My voice cracks as I change my grip and hold her hand. “You make it sound like I’m worthy.”
“Oh, but you are.” She squeezes my hand. “You really are. It takes a special heart to love these men. It takes patience and understanding, and an extremely dark sense of humor.” She snickers. “That’s not to say we’re perfect. We’re not. But we’re perfect for them, and they’re perfect for us. And that right there, that’s what matters.”
“I was born a Tosky.”
She smiles. “Serendipity at its finest.”
“I was raised to hate the Kincaids, because of my grandfather’s grudge against you and Bryan.”
“And even with that hate poured into your heart, you’re still here with my family, loving us, becoming us.”
“My best friend ruined Evie’s dress.”
“Oh goodness!” She giggles. “She didn’t order it like that?”
“No!” I burst out in tearful laughter. “The woman I considered my best friend my entire life vindictively ruined that dress just to hurt Evie, and by extension, both Bryans.”
“And yet,” she grins. “I’d say Benjamin is awfully in love with what he saw today.”
“Boobies.” I laugh. “Jenna ruined the dress in the wrong direction.”
“I’m certain you know this, Maddi. But other people’s actions are not our fault.”
I sniffle and look down at our clasped hands. “Bry said the same thing. But I’m so humiliated, Nelly. So sorry for her actions anyway.”
She only shrugs and smiles when Bry makes his way back to us. “It doesn’t matter. My granddaughter is still married, she’s happy. And in just a few minutes, she’ll arrive with her groom and show us that beautiful smile. Later, no one will remember what Miss Price did, because he’ll tear her dress off and have his way with his wife.”
“Grandma!” Bry stops by our table and sets down two glasses of wine. “Who’s tearing off whose dress?”
“Oh, I brought a date tonight, honey. Grandma intends to lose this dress in just an hour or two.”
His sparkling eyes turn to fire. “Not funny.”
“Well… if you can’t handle the answers, don’t ask the questions.” Lifting her wine, Nelly brings it to her lips and winks for me. “Now sit down, baby. Tell me more about this event next month.”
Ben and Evie arrive not more than twenty minutes after the rest of us, and though they have their own little sweetheart table just for them at the top of the room, it takes only a few minutes for them to pick the whole thing up and bring it to ours. They sit with us, they drink and eat with us, and when they’re bored with our antics, they pick their table up and move it on to the next.
It’s a little… unconventional, I suppose, but it’s what makes them happy, so we go with the flow and pray Evie doesn’t completely spill out of her dress at an inconvenient time.
Meals are served, wine is consumed. The band sets up on a small stage to our right, and plays something beautiful as the couple stands and dances for the first time ever as husband and wife.
An acoustic version of “I Am Yours” gently fills the dark room, while a family friend’s low, gritty voice serenades the couple, and the skirt of Evie’s beautiful dress sways around their feet as Ben pulls her around the dancefloor.
Ben Conner is a large man, a heavyweight champion fighter, so he’s tall and broad, and I could be forgiven for assuming he’d he heavy-footed and clumsy. But he’s not. He’s gentle, and elegant. He presses a hand to Evie’s lower back, and while they sway, they stare into each other’s eyes and speak. They smile, and murmur their secrets. And on an extended circle, Evie throws her head back and laughs.
The ill-fitting dress is forgotten, the weird music from the church forgotten as Ben leans in and kisses his bride for all to see. And though I look around my table and find Evie’s dad refusing to watch while his daughter makes out in plain sight, I still consider this a beautifully romantic moment.
Bryan leans closer as the singer plays his guitar, and when his shoulder touches mine, Bry takes my hand and molds it into the sign he wants.
I love you.
I meet his gaze with a smile, and accept his kiss when he presses it to my lips.