“Single dad doesn’t strike me as your type,” she said, admiring her nails and feigning disinterest.
“Why not?” I was offended at first, but then I caught myself and shook my head. “No, he’s a teacher. He drove up this morning.”
Jenn flashed a pretentious smirk at Marie.
“What’s his name? Where does he live?” Dad asked, and I shrunk down into my sixteen-year-old self again.
I took in a breath. “His name is Isaac Morrison, and he lives in Gig Harbor with me.”
“With you?” my sisters shrieked in unison.
“Five minutes!” Lulu called into the room.
My eyes jerked toward Lulu, and when the door closed again, I realized all eyes were on me. “No, he doesn’t livewithme. But he also lives in Gig Harbor.”
“How’d you meet?” Marie asked. She sounded like a snarky detective rather than an interested sister.
“Oh my God, can we discuss this later? You are literally about to walk down the aisle to get married,” I pleaded, all while feeling vindicated in knowing my family would one hundred percent behave this way. “I’ll tell you everything. And you’ll meet him tonight. But, like, can Jenn go get married first?”
My mom laughed at this and squeezed me, then turned back to Jenn. “My baby is getting married!”
The bridesmaids lined up at the entrance to the Spanish Ballroom at the Fairmont, where my sister invited two-hundred-and-fifty of her closest friends to celebrate her marrying the one for her. I love that about weddings.
Stepping into the room was like stepping into a castle. Lush white flowers lined the aisle, and a white runner spread from the back to the front of the room where the altar stood just under an arched window.
Tony was fidgeting slightly at the end of the aisle, but his smile was sharp, and I could sense more joy than trepidation as I moved closer to him. As I neared the end of the aisle to take my place on the steps, my heart began to hammer, realizing I hadn’t seen Isaac on my way down. I pressed my eyes closed and swallowed the nightmare of explaining why my “boyfriend” didn’t show up to my sister’s wedding after I promised them they’d all get to meet him.
When I opened my eyes, though, I found him right away. Dressed in a striking, fitted navy suit and adorned with his perfect smile, I still couldn’t help but think he had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. He was perfection, sitting in the sixth row next to Mr. and Mrs. Olson, who lived next door to us growing up. I wondered what he was thinking as he took in the sight of my family, my sisters, and every guest that warranted an invitation. If he was at all flustered, he didn’t show it. Even how he looked at me and smiled as I walked back down the aisle after the vows were over fooled everyone who saw. Even me.
My heart fluttered, and my gut clenched because he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. I smiled back and suddenly couldn’t wait to find him at the reception.
nine
NOW
I ALWAYS THOUGHT ABOUTcheating on John.
But I mostly wondered if he would be the one to do it. I think a part of me wanted him to. I tempted him with each cold shoulder, every time I ignored him, every time I compared him to the life I actually wanted. I cornered him into breaking that vow, but he never did. At least, I never found out if he did. I thought it would make the end clear—a definitive he-did-this-so-we-had-to-get-a-divorce answer to the overly complex question of why.
Our families would have understood that. Our kids would have understood that.
Instead, our kids are faced with being told their five- and seven-year-old minds may not always understand grownup problems, but maybe one day, when they’re older, they will. I look at Suzy as her legs swing under the gold Chiavari chair. Her eyes are filled with glee as she sips her sparkling cider from a plastic cup and watches her cousin dance with her groom for the first time as a married couple.
I smile at her and feel a tug on my dress, and I turn to Henry. “I need to go potty!”
I nod and start to stand, but John stops me, “I can take him.”
“I want Mommy!” Henry yells, and I hush him softly. Our table is near the dance floor, and I don’t want to disrupt the beautiful moment.
“It’s fine,” I whisper, taking Henry’s hand.
“It’s your niece, Anna; you should stay,” John says—a hushed reprimand that makes my blood boil.
“She’s your niece too.” I enunciate each word with vigor and contempt, but the tone and breath in which the words come out would seem pleasant to anyone within earshot. I shoot my sister, Jenn, a smile as she narrows her eyes on me. “Come on, honey. Let’s hurry,” I say to Henry, and we escape the reception room and head down the hall to the restrooms.
Vineyard 1301 was a lovely choice for the reception. There aren’t many tasting rooms in this area large enough to accommodate a wedding reception, but this one is perfect. It’s a reclaimed barn, but the interior is sleek and bright in design. The reception room is stunning. The tall ceilings wrapped in twinkling lights and floral chandeliers make it feel like a summer night sky in the frost of February. White tablecloths cover the round tables surrounding the dance floor. Each one adorned with fresh flowers and candles. The gold chairs are wrapped in blush-colored silk, matching the sparkling rosé poured into each glass.
“The custom labels for the night’s wine is a brilliant idea, don’t you think?” Jenn asks as we take our seats back at the table. I stare at the bottle as she refills my glass. The label is blush pink with gold writing to match the colors of the wedding, and the label reads Raymond Rosé, a taste of Happily Ever After.
