The white aisle runner started at the pool cloister, where Merrick let me out of the cart. “Next time I see you, you’ll be walking toward me, seconds from saying ‘I do.’ ”
I was so anxious, I couldn’t wait another minute. “Let’s get this show on the road then. Seems like I’ve waited forever for this day!” I leaned in his side of the cart and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Move it!” I pointed toward the gazebo. “I might beat you there at this pace.”
His dimples popped and I couldn’t resist putting the tip of my finger in one before he pulled away with a wave, calling behind him, “MJ will bring your mom back. Wait for her!”
I suppose waiting for my mom to walk me down the aisle was a good idea. I stood on tiptoe trying to see the gazebo as the cart turned with the path, but for all the bushes and trees, I could only make out the weather vane on the very top turning gently in the breeze.
I was alone. For one blessed moment, I was alone before my wedding and thought I might burst with excitement. I’d planned and planned, and standing in the bridal room at the Weston Plantation, I’d been running through every detail in my mind, hoping and praying everything went off without a hitch—well, with only one hitch, Merrick and me.
Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much stress and pressure I’d been under. But now, having a ceremony I hadn’t planned or even expected, there was only excitement. Merrick had known me once again, better than I knew myself. He was giving me the exact wedding of my dreams, one that I hadn’t planned for myself, instead inviting four hundred people I didn’t even know for the good of his future business interests.
He whisked me away for a second time to force me to take what I wanted and needed. A small, private wedding on our island, in our gazebo, was my ideal. How did he always know?
A cart hummed, then turned the corner as it neared. MJ and Mom both waved when they saw me standing waiting for them. I could already tell from ten yards away that Mom was crying. I hoped she wasn’t thinking of Dad and they were tears of joy, but something told me they were tears for the daughter who had to have her mother walk her down the aisle instead of her father.
MJ stopped the cart in front of me, hopped out, and ran around to take my mom’s arm as she stepped out holding my bouquet of yellow calla lilies. The first flower Merrick ever gave me.
“You look incredible,” MJ said, and kissed my cheek. “Sis,” he added, then laughed. “Still weird.”
“Thanks, and yeah, it’s weird.” After thinking of MJ as Merrick’s son for months, to shift gears and accept that they were actually brothers was odd. Good, but odd.
“Gotta get back. You two come when you’re ready.” He hustled back to the cart and took off.
Mom handed me my bouquet. “I’m supposed to say the motherly thing and make sure you know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you would have to be dragged away from Merrick by wild dogs, and I love him like my own son, but my friend June with the women’s group at church said I had to tell you that as your mother.”
I tried not to laugh imagining what Aunt Jan would be saying if she were standing there with us. “Duty done,” I said, “and you’re right, but it would take more than wild dogs.”
A somber expression crossed her face and I knew what was coming. “Did you like the photo of Dad?” she asked.
I leaned in and hugged her, knowing she’d spent hours and hours poring through boxes of old photos to find that one—the one she knew was my favorite. “I loved it, Mom. It was unexpected and perfect. He’s here. Not just the photo. You know that, don’t you? He’s over there at the gazebo wondering where we are. I can hear him now, can’t you? ‘Jesus, Sylvia, what’s taking so long?’ in his grumpy, impatient voice.”
Mom laughed through the tears streaking her cheeks. My own face was damp, and tears dripped from my chin. “He was always such an old grouch, wasn’t he?” she said.
“We loved him just the same, though.”
“Tough on the outside, soft on the inside.” She wrapped both of my hands around my bouquet and straightened the shoulders of my dress as the string notes of Beck’s cello floated down the aisle to meet us, Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. “It’s time. Let’s pull ourselves together and start our walk. Are you ready?”
“I’ve never been more ready for anything, Mom.”
She gave me a big, watery smile then kissed my cheek. “I’m so proud of you and so happy for you both.”
She hooked her arm through mine, and we began our walk toward the gazebo, my heart fluttering a million miles a minute.
We walked in silence, Mom sniffing back tears every once in a while. Colorful fall flowers were in bloom and flanked the path. Mom would know their names, but I didn’t. I’d have to learn from her so I could pass the knowledge of every inch of the island on to my kids someday.
Every time I thought of having kids, I pictured a little girl in Merrick’s arms. She had his dimples—all Rochas had the dimples—and dark curly hair in ponytails. She’d be a daddy’s girl, of course. Who could resist Merrick when he put everything inside him into loving you? And he would love her more than anything, maybe more than me in that way daddies love their daughters. She’d be his universe.
We’d have more than one, but so far, she was the only child I could conjure in my mind. I knew she’d be ours. Our first. Someday.
The gazebo came into view, causing me to pause and catch my breath. It was covered in climbing ivy. As in the trees on the path, clear votive holders dangled with flickering candles at different heights. Our unity candle was one we’d inherited from a couple who celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary by renewing their vows in our gazebo. We reminded them of themselves at our age, and they gifted us with the unity candle from their first wedding. It sat on a small wooden table Merrick had built himself out of scrap wood from the hotel renovation.
Aunt Jan stood behind the table in a white robe. “Mom?” I whispered.
“Your aunt has been studying under our minister day and night to be ordained to marry you today. It took a lot of talking to convince him to take her under his wing, but you know your aunt.”
More tears flowed past my lower lids. My chest was so full, it hurt. All the people I loved the most had come together to give me the most perfect wedding imaginable. It was unimaginable—beyond perfect.
Merrick stood at the bottom of the three stairs that led up inside the gazebo with MJ beside him. Beck was on the end, sitting in a chair playing his cello. The three of them together in their tuxes made a breathtaking trio. On the opposite side, Maddie and Shannon stood in their striking shades of green holding their bouquets. In white wooden chairs on the bride’s side, Joan sat with Mr. Simcoe, Maddie’s dad.
The most shocking surprise was the woman sitting on the groom’s side beside Riley—Merrick’s sister, Heidi. At the end of the aisle, her two kids, Holly and Sam, stood as flower girl and ring bearer, watching for my arrival. Holly’s dress was a close duplicate to mine.
“I had Holly’s dress made when I had the lace added over the bodice of yours,” Mom said, watching me take everything in.
“I didn’t know Merrick made up with Heidi,” I whispered.
“I’m not sure he has, but she’s his sister. I told him he didn’t have a choice.”
I suppressed a grin. Mom being overbearing with Merrick. I could only imagine how that conversation had gone. Heidi’s husband wasn’t in attendance. I wondered if that had been Merrick’s negotiation.
We reached Holly and Sam. Holly gave me a huge smile, admiring our matching dresses. “You look beautiful,” I told her. I gestured to the basket of rose petals she held. “Are you going to spread those down the aisle?”
“That’s what the blond lady told me to do. She said if I didn’t, I don’t get cake.”
I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter from coming out. Joan. Only Joan would threaten little kids with wedding cake.
“Sam’s got the ring,” Holly said, patting the cushion her brother held. Sam gave me a small, shy smile and looked more afraid than any kid should ever look.
“You’ll do great, Sam. You can’t mess this up, so don’t worry.” His chin dropped in a quick, sharp nod, wide-eyed.
“Here we go,” Mom said, and shot Beck a smile, her eyebrows lifted to her hairline.
Beck stood behind his cello. Our guests stood with him as he began the “Wedding March.” As if they’d practiced a hundred times, and they probably had, Holly and Sam started down the aisle with measured steps. Holly spread her rose petals and Sam hung on to his ring cushion for dear life. They were adorable. My heart squeezed seeing Merrick watching the two of them with pride etched on his face. He prized his niece and nephew and spent too little time with them.
When they hit the end of the aisle and parted, Sam walked over to stand next to Beck, and Holly stood on the outside of Shannon. Mom squeezed my arm.
This was it. The moment I walked down the aisle to stand with Merrick and vow to be his wife until death do us part.