Two Years Later
Nadia was in rare form as she flipped through her big white binder and also managed to somehow hold on to her squirming almost-two-year-old on one hip. Miya had been a handful ever since she’d been born. She hated naptimes and schedules. She was a girl after my own heart. I grinned at her, and she smiled back.
“Let me just double check the list,” Nadia said, glancing at the paper. “We’ve got the musicians, check, the cake delivered, check.” She glanced at me. “The bride, check.”
“Nadia, it’ll be fine. You can put down the binder.” I flattened the skirt of my white sheath satin gown, even as I worried the train behind me might get tangled somehow on my way down the aisle.
Nadia shook her head furiously. “I don’t want you to end up like my wedding.” Her toddler kept squirming harder, trying to reach the ground, not caring how her struggles wrinkled her flower girl dress. I knew from experience that once she hit the floor, my niece would be off like a shot.
“I can hold her,” I offered, but Nadia nearly dropped the binder.
“You’re wearing white.” She sounded appalled. “She’d destroy that dress!”
I glanced in the full-length mirror at my white sheath of a wedding dress, decorated with lace trim. We were in the tiny upstairs dressing room in the small chapel where my mom and dad had gotten married. I thought I should be nervous on my wedding day, but I wasn’t. Not at all. I couldn’t wait to say I do, which said quite a lot coming from this little commitment-phobe.
A soft knock came at the door. “Is everyone decent?” Michael’s voice came through the oak paneled door.
“Yes,” I called and Michael peeked in, Jeremy by his side.
“Whoa, Cass! You look great.” Michael nodded, like an approving big brother. I wanted to twirl around so he could see the back, but I was still worried about the train.
“We’re ready in five minutes,” he said. “Can I help?”
“Take Miya, please,” Nadia begged as she handed her wiggly little girl to her husband.
“Who’s my little girl?” Michael said. He gently put Miya on the ground, but in a split second, she ran off. Jeremy trotted after her.
“Michael!” hissed Nadia, looking at the ceiling in frustration.
“I’ve got them,” Michael said, on the case. “No! Not the stairs! Miya!” A bit of panic crept into Michael’s voice. Nadia palmed her forehead.
“It’s okay,” I said. “How much damage can they do?”
Nadia laughed ruefully. “A lot.” She shook her head at me. “You sure you want to do this? Be married…have kids… You could learn from my mistakes.” One of her eyebrows quirked up.
I laughed. “I’m sure,” I said, thinking of Robert and his warm brown eyes. We’d spent the last two years of dating feeling like we were two halves of the same person. Getting married wouldn’t change that. Not in the least. Organ music wafted up from downstairs. I felt a tiny little prick of nerves in my stomach. Not because I was worried about getting married. No, I knew I’d finally found what Mom and Dad had, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with Robert. Mom came around the corner and when she saw me through the open door, tears sprang to her eyes.
“Cass! You look…beautiful,” she sniffed as she came over and gave me a gentle hug. “So…beautiful. Oh, how I wish your dad was here to see this.”
Me too. “I think he’s here in spirit.”
“I know, wherever he is, he approves,” Mom said. She pressed a crumpled up tissue against her nose.
“Now, don’t cry,” scolded Nadia, sniffling too. “Or you’ll make me cry. And then we’ll have one big mascara mess.”
I hugged them both. Nadia glanced at her watch. “It’s time,” she murmured. “It’s time!” She clutched the big white wedding binder to her chest. “Okay, you remember that Miya goes, then Jeremy and then me, and then you and Mom…”
“Yes, we know. I’ll be walking her down the aisle,” Mom said.
“Oh! The flower girl basket,” Nadia cried, as if she’d forgotten to turn off the oven.
“It’ll be fine, Nadia,” I called after her as she scurried down the stairs.
Mom helped me adjust my veil and wrangled my train into submission, and then she offered me her arm. It seemed right, somehow. We walked down the staircase and hung out at the back of the chapel, which was full-to-bursting with a hundred and thirty of our closest friends and family.
The processional music began and then my niece bolted down the aisle, dropping her flower basket. The crowd laughed. She then stuck her thumb in her mouth as Nadia rushed down the aisle after her, trying to get her out of the way. Jeremy came next, my ring bearer.
Then came the music for the bride. I’d opted not to use traditional music. Instead, I’d picked Mom’s favorite song, in instrumental form, “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Any Longer.” Somehow, even on a chapel organ, it sounded right.
Mom squeezed my arm as everyone stood and we began our walk down the aisle. But I fixed my gaze on Robert, devilishly handsome in his black tuxedo. He was everything I wanted in a partner: funny, smart, considerate, and the last two years had taught me that relationships could get better with time. I couldn’t wait to see what the future held for us. A house? Kids? I hoped so. Life was short and unpredictable, true, but I promised myself to enjoy every minute I had with Robert. And no matter what, I’d never let a TV personality make major life decisions for me again. If I’d learned one lesson, it was to trust my instincts.
I glanced up and saw Dana waving wildly at me from the fifth pew, looking every bit as happy as the day she’d become Mrs. Schmointz. Of course, even the pew couldn’t hide her growing belly. Pretty soon, there’d be a baby Schmointz in the mix and I couldn’t wait to meet him or her.
I glanced back at Robert and he winked at me, and I felt right at ease. I could marry him every day for the rest of my life, I thought. I realized I’d only been worried about commitment before because I hadn’t met the right man yet.
At the end of the aisle, Mom let me go with a kiss on the cheek as she swiped a tear from her face. She also gave Robert a huge hug, to the joy of the crowd, and then bustled off to her seat. I could feel Dad smiling down on me from heaven. I knew he’d approve. Robert took my hand.
“Are we going to have to say something about sharing food in the vows?” he murmured in my ear.
“Oh, you bet. To share till we part,” I whispered and he chuckled, a low growl.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to get any wedding cake, am I?” He grinned.
I squeezed his hand in mine as I thought about the three-layer sweets-monster fantasy cake that awaited us at our reception. I giggled to myself. “Probably not.”
“As long as I have you, I couldn’t care less.”
A man who’d let me have all the wedding cake? Now I knew for sure: this was true love.
The End