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Isabelle’s bedroom was an explosion of teenage angst and glitter. Band posters hung crooked on two opposite walls, seemingly in competition to be the messier one, and her four-poster bed was reminiscent of her princess-past, when she had donned little dresses and flounced around the house, hunting for compliments. “Like mother, like daughter,” Amelia had teased at the time, only for Mila to nod, “Yes. She’s got her mother’s vanity, all right.” Now, as Jennifer adjusted to the soft light of the morning, Isabelle’s horrendous teenage-angst-decor reminded Jennifer of the flurry of events that led her to now.
It was Andrea’s wedding day— a day meant for laughter and beautiful promises and bubbling champagne. How difficult to find the strength to celebrate as you carried the weight of the fate that had come before.
But thus far, the Sisters of Edgartown had handled Mila’s care just fine. It had been a beautiful afternoon of Christmas cookies and wine and gut-busting giggles. Camilla had departed to prepare for the rehearsal dinner around five, which had left Jennifer, Amelia, and Olivia to squabble over how to do the next elements of the evening. Namely, they’d needed to help Mila figure out a bathing situation that suited her best without making her feel more shame than was necessary. Afterward, they’d wheeled her into the bedroom she had once shared with Peter and helped her nestle between the freshly-changed sheets. There, with her head deep on the cloud-like pillow, Jennifer had seen her more like a child than a woman of forty-one. She had seemed meek and helpless, and she knew Mila resented this. “Get out of here before you read me a bedtime story, too,” Mila had kidded as the other three headed out, closing the door behind them.
Now, Jennifer tip-toed down the hallway of Mila’s shadowed home on Witchwood. Once in the kitchen, she brewed a pot of coffee and texted with Nick for a moment, who reported that Stacy’s morning sickness had finally subsided.
NICK: She says she’s ready to eat her weight in wedding cake today, so everyone watch out.
Jennifer chuckled inwardly before she texted the others in the group chat, the one they’d recently created that didn’t include Mila. It had felt dishonest to do this, going behind her back, but it had been the only way to arrange who-helped-with-what and when. Amelia’s spreadsheet only went so far— and Jennifer didn’t want a single dip in the quality of their care. Obviously, Mila’s mother and sisters would help out here and there, as well, which Mila had called, “An anxious alternative but maybe a necessary reminder that even as I’m getting well after an accident, it still might never be enough for my mother.” This had led Jennifer to insist that she, Olivia, Amelia, and Camilla do the brunt of the work.
“Good morning, Mila.” Jennifer greeted Mila from the doorway of Mila’s master bedroom as the door creaked open, casting light across the bedspread.
Mila groaned from between the sheets. “I gotta say. I’m not pleased to tell you this, but I need to go to the bathroom. Like, right now.”
Jennifer’s heart quickened. This was exactly the moment she had considered before trying to offer care without causing more shame than necessary. Hurriedly, she positioned the wheelchair alongside Mila’s thin frame and assisted her into the chair, using much more of her strength than Jennifer had even thought she had. She then wheeled Mila to the master bathroom, where they had set up several railings to allow Mila to lift herself from the wheelchair to the toilet and back again.
Even still, the process was new. Mila muttered, “Can you just wait outside? Just in case I tumble to my death...”
“Of course,” Jennifer breathed as she headed out. “Don’t worry.”
She wanted to tell Mila that she would do anything for her— that she would love her every day of her life, no matter what, as they aged and lost all control of their bodies, as time took over them and left them no relief.
Jennifer and Mila sat at the kitchen table over croissants with butter, fresh fruit, various cheeses, a pot of coffee, and just the tiniest sprinkling of champagne with orange juice.
“It’s a celebration of many different things,” Jennifer explained. “It’s your first morning back at your house, and it’s the day Andrea marries the love of her life.”
“A worthy day for a mimosa. Not that you needed to twist my arm.” Mila delivered her first sterling smile of the morning, one that almost reached her eyes.
Prior to the accident, Mila had selected a navy blue, low-cut gown for Andrea’s wedding. Jennifer told her that she saw no reason Mila couldn’t still wear the dress.
“It was simple on the bottom, anyway,” Jennifer stated as she lifted it from the closet after breakfast.
“You’re right. It was always meant to be breast-first,” Mila teased.
“And if there’s anything you can brag about...” Jennifer returned with a wink.
“It’s what I always told the girls in cheerleading, remember? Flaunt what you got,” Mila said.
Jennifer helped Mila don the navy gown before she slipped into her own dark green dress, which had a high lace neckline and a cinched waist.
“I forgot you bought that,” Mila told Jennifer as she reappeared. “Makes your eyes really pop.”
“You were the one who forced me to buy it,” Jennifer remembered. “You were like— Jen, if you don’t buy that for Andrea’s wedding, you’ll regret it every day of your life.”
Mila laughed. “I have a way of making shopping way more dramatic than it really is.”
An hour before departure time, Amelia arrived in her wedding best, a burgundy maternity gown that swirled around her knees. She pointed to her flats and said, “I can’t believe I’m wearing these to such a fancy occasion.”
“No pregnant woman should ever wear heels,” Mila confirmed with authority. “Pregnancy is cruel enough.”
“Olivia said she’s meeting us there,” Amelia said as she wiped down the counter of Mila’s kitchen to distract herself. “Chelsea is the maid of honor, and Olivia had to help her with a few things before the ceremony starts.”
“It’ll be good to see Chelsea again,” Mila breathed. “Sometimes I get all caught up in a fantasy of being her age, making it work with some handsome guy in Brooklyn.”
“I think there are a lot more rats in reality than in your fantasy,” Jennifer blurted.
“And cockroaches,” Amelia added as she scrunched her nose.
Mila tossed her head back. “Sometimes, I regret that I didn’t do something like that, rats and all.”
“Well, if Isabelle really makes it in the modeling industry, I guess she’ll have a loft for us to crash at in the city,” Jennifer countered.
“And glamorous parties to invite us to.” Mila’s smile was infectious. “It’s funny how angry I was at the concept of her dropping out to pursue modeling. The reality is, I know life doesn’t have a necessary timeline. I married a man twenty years my senior for crying out loud. College will always be there for Isabelle if she wants to go back to it.” Mila pressed her lips together tightly as her face shifted in color.
Jennifer could feel the memory of Mila and Isabelle’s argument stirring around in Mila’s mind. She knew those thoughts of the accident would stay permanently in Mila’s head and threaten to come back anytime.
Jennifer had grown accustomed, now, to lifting Mila in and out of her wheelchair. She slipped Mila into the backseat of Amelia’s car and folded together the wheelchair like an accordion before she joined Amelia in the front. Amelia said what you’re always meant to say before such occasions: “I remember when she just learned to talk. Now she’s getting married. What next?”
“What’s next is your baby getting married,” Jennifer countered. “It happens just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
Andrea’s wedding was held at the Edgartown Presbyterian Church, where already, nearly fifty vehicles had parked in the parking lot in preparation for the big day. Claire of the Oak Bluffs flower shop hovered outside of her business van, where she shifted through her wedding flower delivery bouquets which consisted of baby’s breath, beautiful bouquets of white lilies for the bridesmaids and a much larger one for the bride herself. Claire waved a distracted hand at Amelia and Jennifer just before they helped Mila slip back into her wheelchair. At that sight, Claire’s lips formed a round O.
As they wheeled past, Claire beamed with early afternoon greetings.
“So good to see you, Mila. You look beautiful.”
Mila glowered for a split second before righting her face. “And you, Claire.”
But when they were out of earshot, Mila muttered, “It’s so weird to be the spectacle of the island this week.”
“It’ll pass. Everyone will get used to it,” Amelia murmured.
Jennifer understood the weight of other people’s perceived kindnesses. Sometimes, they went so above and beyond that it felt suffocating.
Once at the church, Jennifer eased Mila’s wheelchair up the ramp as Amelia waddled up behind them. Once in the foyer, one of Jonathon’s brothers handed them a pamphlet before they were shown to their seats. Mila’s wheelchair hovered off to the right of the row as Amelia and Jennifer seated themselves beside her. Very soon after, Derek, Nick, and Stacy arrived to slide in behind them, whispering excitedly.
When Stacy complimented Mila’s dress, Derek took the opportunity to lean up to whisper in Jennifer’s ear.
“How did it go last night?”
Jennifer nodded just the slightest bit to confirm that they’d gotten through just fine.
“Good. I missed you,” he whispered.
“I have to admit, I’m glad it’s not our wedding day,” Nick admitted then.
Stacy gave him a playful smack across the hand. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“A man’s wedding day is one of the most nerve-racking days of his life,” Derek affirmed.
“Yeah? You’re talking to the bride who was secretly three months pregnant and taking breaks to get sick in the bathroom between photo sessions on her wedding day,” Stacy countered.
“Touché,” Derek returned with a knowing smile.
Mila and Jennifer shared a wide grin over Stacy’s sassiness. They didn’t have to say what they both thought: that the girl seemed to sizzle with the same spark they’d had at that age.
Olivia and Anthony joined their group a few minutes later. Anthony’s suit highlighted his broad shoulders and surging muscles, which he’d built from his many months of fixing up the old Hesson House prior to its untimely demise in the hurricane. He greeted the other Sisters warmly and slid his fingers through Olivia’s. She beamed with pride.
“Chelsea looks like a dream,” she told them. “Andrea’s on the verge of freaking out, but I think she’ll pull it together enough to walk down the aisle.”
“Oh, brother,” Amelia giggled.
Instead of a five-piece string instrumental group, Andrea had opted for a pianist and a singer, who sang a beautiful love song in Italian as the groomsmen walked the bridesmaids down the aisle.
“Did we make the wrong choice with what we did?” Stacy whispered to Nick.
“Don’t tell me we have to do the whole thing over again just because you like this singer better than the quintet,” Nick returned.
“Yours was beautiful,” Jennifer affirmed. “This is just different.”
“Oh no. I think your mother agrees with me,” Stacy muttered to Nick playfully.
“Shhh.” A woman two rows behind them demanded they be quiet. Collectively, the four sisters, including Mila, blushed like children.
“We always get in trouble like this,” Olivia explained to Anthony. “At this point, I’d consider it a failed wedding if someone didn’t scold us.”
After Chelsea walked down the aisle, turned on her heel, and beamed out across the crowd, the wedding song shifted. The organist played the classic wedding march to bring Andrea, flanked by both Camilla and Jonathon, out into the aisle.
The other Sisters had seen Andrea in her wedding dress prior to this fateful day, but the effect of it here, in the Presbyterian church, as the December light glittered through the stained-glass windows, was truly spectacular. Jennifer held her breath as the three members of Camilla’s never-perfect but always-beautiful nuclear family reached the front of the gorgeous church.
Andrea turned toward her beloved, Isaac, who stretched out his palms so that she could slip her small hands over his. Their eyes met as the music stopped and the silence stretched across the crowd. Very soon, they would be united as husband and wife. Soon, their promise would be legal and binding— but a representation of the kind of love that was freeing in every way.