With nearly all the guests seated in front of the hastily constructed chuppah (adorned with white roses transferred from the arbor), Meryl urged her mother to sit down. Rose looked pale and sweaty.
“Are you all right?” she asked her.
“Of course I’m all right. This is what happens when you have a wedding in the dead of summer.”
“It’s spring, Mother.” She looked around for Leigh, but couldn’t find her. “Just wait here. I’ll go get you a bottle of water.”
Meryl hurried up the garden path, trying not to break out in a sweat herself. Where was Leigh when she needed her?
Meryl couldn’t help but admit to herself that Leigh had been a lifesaver. She had made the most of a near-perfect setting, a garden abundant with roses, ivy, and purple hydrangeas. Leigh had demarcated the beginning of the aisle with white garden boxes planted with tall pomanders of sterling roses surrounded by lavender and violet hydrangeas at the base. The purple flowers had been Amy’s request. And the aisle itself, adorned with a crisp white linen runner, culminating in the arbor covered with dozens of white roses.
There had been so many details along the way, so many people to please and to answer to, so many fires to put out. All handled—a boulder pushed up a hill—with the help of the wedding planner. The wedding planner with whom, apparently, one of the brides was in love.
Meryl didn’t want to think about that. It was time for Jo, her impetuous flower child, to grow up.
“Meryl—there you are. Listen, I just want to make sure your guests know not to post any photos of the girls coming down the aisle until after we’ve got it up on the magazine’s site,” said Joan.
“It’s in the program—I feel confident we’ll be fine with that,” said Meryl.
“Paz said he already got some fabulous shots staged in front of the grand allée and near that large fountain—”
“Joan, please grab a seat. I have to take care of one thing and I’ll see you after the ceremony.”
The house was bustling with movement and energy, the hallway outside the kitchen was filled with catering staff prepping for the tented cocktail reception following the ceremony.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said to a passing woman, “Can you please get me a bottle of water? I need to take it down to the ceremony.”
The woman looked at her blankly.
“Ella necessita una botella de agua, por favor,” said Leigh.
Meryl turned around. “I was looking all over for you.”
“Everything okay down there?” Leigh said. “I think we’re all set.”
The woman returned with a bottle of Poland Spring. Leigh handed it to Meryl. “Enjoy the ceremony.”
“You should probably walk down with me now. We’re getting close,” said Meryl.
“I’m going to stay up here—keep things on track.”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. Everything’s fine and Cliff is here.”
“Really, Meryl. Go on. Like you said—it’s getting close.”
Meryl knew she was right, but she found herself rooted in place. “You don’t want to watch Jo get married,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“I know. I know that Jo is in love with you. I just didn’t realize it was mutual.”
“Meryl, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I assure you I’m a professional—”
Meryl reached for her arm. “Do you love my daughter?”
Leigh looked like a deer caught in the headlights. After a startled pause, she recovered enough to say, “I don’t have room for love in my business.”
“What do you mean? What business is that?”
Leigh squared her shoulders. “The Campion business.”
Meryl looked at her, not comprehending at first. “Oh. You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious. And so are they when it comes to appearances and the people with whom they surround themselves. So I would appreciate it if you never mentioned this. To anyone.”
“Leigh, I’ve grown quite fond of you. And I’m not saying this for my daughter, though maybe, God help me, I should have said it to her: There is no job, no career, no appearance, no amount of money—that is more important than love. Jo is going to marry Toby today, and she might not love him, but that’s a situation she is going to have to figure out for herself. But you should not intentionally set out to live a life without love. And you should realize that now, while you’re young—before it’s too late.”
Leigh’s dark eyes met hers, unblinking. “Your daughters are waiting for you. I’m sure it will be a beautiful ceremony.”
* * *
Meg was the first down the aisle on her father’s arm.
Calm, cool Meg walked slowly but with sure steps, her arm loosely linked through Hugh’s. Meg, in her lace gown, the cathedral veil covering her face, seemed to float down the aisle’s white runner.
In that moment, Meryl felt herself standing in the doorway of the girls’ childhood bedroom, watching a mirror image of this procession amidst piles of princess dresses and tissue paper, small hands clapping and tiny voices rising with excitement for their chance to walk down the aisle.
She bit her lip to hold back tears.
Stowe met them halfway so Hugh could then turn around and retrieve Amy, while Meg and Stowe took their places before the officiant—a nondenominational minister named Olympia whom Jo had found on TheKnot.com and, after exchanging e-mails with her, insisted be the one to marry them. It had been Jo’s sole request for the entire event.
All eyes turned to Amy, walking a bit faster than Meg but also pulling off her statement gown, looking every bit the budding fashion icon the media—and Jeffrey’s PR team—was making her out to be. When the handoff happened between Hugh and Andy, Meryl had a flashback to the first time Andy showed up at their apartment, an eighteen-year-old kid who had called Amy “dude.”
But it was Jo who really set her off. Jo, her baby—the tomboy who would never wear a dress and, God love her, stuck to that even on her wedding day. Even as a pregnant bride. Jo, who was getting married while she still didn’t know the meaning of love, or perhaps was getting married because she didn’t want to go through the trouble of figuring it out. Either way, it wasn’t Meryl’s choice to make or her mistake to fix. If there was one thing she’d learned in all of this, it was that sometimes she had to just let go.
“Don’t they look beautiful?” she whispered to Rose.
“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”
When all three couples were assembled before the officiant, the music quieted. The only sound was the much-needed breeze rustling through the trees.
“Welcome, friends and family. We are so grateful that you could be here with us for this special—truly remarkable—wedding celebration. Today, we have not one, but three sets of love to celebrate, not two but six lives to join in matrimony. It is always a blessing to find love, but for three sisters to find love at the same time—well, that is truly miraculous.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” deadpanned Rose.
“Mother! Please.”
“But though we celebrate their unions on the same day, the unions are not the same. All loves are unique, and in the spirit of that, Jo and Toby, Amy and Andy, and Meg and Stowe have each written a personal introduction to the traditional vows to best convey their feelings for one another, and their deepest commitments as they enter into the bonds of matrimony. Today, the last becomes the first, as we begin with Jo and her betrothed, Tobias.”
That had been quite the argument—who should say their vows first. Meg had thought she should go first since she was engaged first. Amy thought she should go first since she had been with Andy the longest. And Jo, as was typical throughout the process, didn’t have much to say. In the end, the officiant had suggested reverse birth order. “In all things, a progression,” she had said. And that had settled that.
Toby turned to Jo, taking both her hands in his. “Jo, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. And I wish I could say that was the beginning, but it wasn’t half that easy.” The crowd laughed. “Finally now, after all these years, our feelings have met at a place where we are able to start a life together. And today, standing before all our friends and family, I give myself to you.”
Meryl dabbed at her eyes.
Olympia nodded. “Tobias, please repeat after me, ‘I, Tobias Hedegaard-Kruse, take thee, Josephine Becker, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, I promise my love to thee for as long as we both shall live.”
He slipped the ring on her finger, and Meryl reached for Hugh’s hand.
Olympia turned to Jo. Meryl saw her mouth, “Are you ready?”
Jo nodded. “Toby, I always knew you were someone I could count on—through bad and good. We’ve had so many years of friendship. And now … and now…”
As she faltered, Meryl saw her glance down at a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. But she didn’t continue. After an awkward pause, Olympia asked gently. “Shall we move on to the ‘I do’ part?”
“No!”
Three hundred and fifty heads turned in unison to find Leigh walking down the aisle, gasps and whispers in her wake.
“Oh, my good Lord,” Meryl said.
“Is something wrong?” Hugh whispered.
“That will depend on how you look at it.”
Leigh stopped a few feet behind the row of couples.
“Leigh! What do you think you’re doing? Sit!” Tippy hissed, standing up from her aisle seat and marching over to her, “Sit down right this minute.”
Leigh, to her credit, didn’t miss a beat. She seemed so focused on Jo, it was as if there were no one else in that garden. And maybe that’s exactly the way it felt to her.
“Leigh?” Jo said, as if she didn’t quite trust what she was seeing and hearing.
“I was wrong,” Leigh said.
“You were?”
“Yes. I don’t think you should go through with this.”
“Are you out of your mind?” said Toby. “Someone get her the hell out of here.”
Tippy was by that point physically trying to remove Leigh from the aisle.
“Leave her alone,” Meryl said, jumping up to pull Tippy away.
“This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to,” said Rose.
Jo stepped away from the chuppah, rushing to Leigh’s side.
“I love you,” she said to Leigh.
“I love you too. I’m an idiot.”
“No. You’re amazing.” They kissed.
Reed stood from his seat and turned to face all the guests seated in the rows behind him. “I apologize for this inexcusable display and interruption.” Then, to Leigh and Jo. “Leigh, needless to say, you are fired. Jo, you should at least have the decency to step aside, stop shaming your sisters, and let them continue with their wedding.”
Jo turned to Meg and Amy. “I’m so sorry,” she said, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.
The countess rushed to Toby’s side and ushered him away. “I want that bracelet back!” she yelled at Jo.
“Jo, you two should maybe head back to the house,” Meryl said.
Jo and Leigh looked at each other before marching back up the aisle together.
“Everyone, this is unexpected,” said Olympia. “But the path to true love, as they say, never runs smooth. So now, please let us turn our attention back to the two couples standing before you who are ready to take their vows—”
“I’m not ready to take my vows,” said Meg suddenly.
“What?” Stowe took her hand. “Babe, just calm down.”
“No,” she said, lifting her veil. “Your vows will be a lie. You might love me, but you don’t honor me—or my family. You don’t know how to put me first—put us first. And you never will.”
Sobbing, she ran to Meryl’s side. Meryl, heart pounding, realizing she had utterly lost control of the situation, that it was completely off the rails, looked frantically at Hugh. He took Meg by the arm and walked her back up the aisle, presumably to the house.
“This is not what we signed on for,” said Joan, stepping over people to reach Meryl’s seat.
“I can’t worry about your stupid magazine right now!” snapped Meryl.
“Fine. You can worry about it tomorrow, when you don’t have your check.”
“Perhaps we should take a ten-minute break and then continue,” said Olympia, trying to remain serene under pressure and almost succeeding.
“There’s no point in continuing,” said Andy. “If anyone should be walking away from this thing, it’s Amy and me.” He turned to Amy. “And you know it’s true.”
Jeffrey stood. “Everyone, let’s just calm down.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re one of my best friends,” said Amy, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ame, don’t. It’s not totally on you,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “I was never that into it. All this, I mean. And we were never really…”
“I know.” Amy whispered back.
Olympia looked helplessly at Meryl.
Meryl knew what she had to do. After nine months of putting the wedding together, of pushing so hard to make it happen in a big, glorious way, it had now come down to her being to one to say, “Everyone, I apologize. We appreciate all of you being here on this day. But it seems clear that no wedding will be taking place after all.”
Cliff, appearing from out of nowhere, took the microphone.
“Please, everyone—if you would all follow me to our tented reception, I’m hoping you will at the very least enjoy the cocktails and hors d’oeuvres being served.”
Meryl watched in disbelief as the rows of guests emptied, the buzz of conversation filling the air like a swarm of bees.
“Your daughters are a piece of work,” said Reed.
“It’s not our fault your son couldn’t close the deal,” said Hugh.
“Close the deal? My son dodged a bullet today!” And with that, Reed stormed off, Tippy trailing behind.
Olympia walked to them. “Mrs. Becker, I don’t know what to say.…”
“Oh, believe me—you’re not alone in that.”
“I wish there were something I could do to salvage this day.”
“There is,” said Rose.
Everyone turned to her. “Mother, please—not now.”
“I never did get to see you and Hugh exchange vows.”
“What?” said Meryl.
“Is that true?” said Olympia.
“Yes—she ran off and eloped!”
“Mother, you wouldn’t even speak to Hugh. You said you wouldn’t come to the wedding.”
“Well, I’m here today. I came for a ceremony, and I want a ceremony. So let’s have it.”
Olympia smiled. “We could renew your vows.”
“What? No—that’s crazy,” said Meryl. “We have to go up to the house—the girls need us.”
“We need this,” said Hugh.
“We do?”
He held her hand. “Okay, Olympia—we’re ready when you are. Oh—just one thing.” Hugh reached for the chuppah and pulled out a handful of roses, handing them to Meryl.
“Hugh, we’ll start with you. Repeat after me.…”
Hugh held both Meryl’s hands, looking her in the eyes. “I, Hugh Becker, take thee, Meryl Becker, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, I promise my love to thee for as long as we both shall live.”
“And Meryl—.”
“Wait, I know what I want to say.” Meryl, looking into the eyes of her husband, realized she had wanted to say these things for a long time. “Hugh, I’m so sorry I doubted you. And there have been many times. But you’ve proved me wrong. And as much as this day is a disaster—I’m thankful for the chance to say once again that I take you to be my husband, in sickness and in health, in employment and unemployment, in the home we share now or whatever new home we make in the future—I will love you always.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” said Olympia.