Her smile disappeared at the tone of his voice. The air went still as she waited for him to continue.
“I knew,” he said, so softly that I almost didn’t hear. “I knew we were filing for bankruptcy.”
Her hand fell away from his clasp slowly, fingers curling inward like a burned leaf. “You knew? You knew, and you kept it from me?”
“I was going to tell you after the wedding. I wanted to give you the kind of day you’ve always dreamed of, the kind that we planned to have all along. I couldn’t take that away from you. The spark in your eyes when you look at me, like all your dreams are coming true—I never want to see it extinguished.”
Everything funneled down to the two people who had brought us together that evening. We’d all fallen, one by one, like dominoes, and we watched as they teetered, the silence between them wobbling back and forth.
Then the one person I forgot about spoke up.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said Teri. “I was supposed to be the one getting married this month.” She paused, feeling the weight of our stares. “I’m not married. I got a restraining order from my fiancé instead of this ring. I took it anyway.” She flashed it before us. “I had to get out of there. When I saw the ad for a job on a luxury yacht, I doctored my resume up a bit. I figured the bride would want a married woman who’s been through it all, right?” She glanced at Isabelle. “I’m sorry I lied. I can’t be your maid of honor when everything reminds me of the wedding dress hanging in my own closet. I’ve made a mess of things. I need to head back home and sort things out. I quit.”
Isabelle’s gaze remained on her, steady and unwavering. She nodded, either at Teri’s resignation or whatever dialogue was running through her head.
“It’s okay,” she finally said. “I won’t be needing a maid of honor after all.” Pushing her chair back, she stood and looked around the table. “The wedding is off.”
The wedding took place on the island of Hydra, in the same church where Thomas’s father was baptized. Joseph Uncle didn’t walk Isabelle down the aisle. In the Greek Orthodox tradition, the father accompanies the bride to the entrance of the church and the groom takes over from there. Hydra was a non-motorized island, so Joseph Uncle walked Isabelle all the way to church, through bougainvillea-drenched streets with no names.
Rachel Auntie and Dolly flanked Naani as she zigzagged her way up the stone-paved paths. I followed behind, while Fia ran up ahead, taking pictures of the bridal procession. A pair of minstrels led the way—one with a violin and the other with a lute. Turquoise views of the port glittered between stone walls. Salt-white houses rose from the hills ringing the amphitheater-shaped harbor. It was a bright, brilliant day for a wedding that almost wasn’t.
“Ready?” Joseph Uncle paused as the church came into view. Thomas stood at the gate, holding a bouquet of flowers for Isabelle. “One last chance to reconsider.”
“You’re the best dad ever.” Isabelle kissed him on the cheek. “I haven’t been the easiest daughter, but you’re still looking out for me. I wish Thomas didn’t keep things from me, but I know in my heart his intentions were good. He really loves me, Dad. I can’t keep rejecting his apologies. I can’t imagine my life without him. We still have a lot of things to figure out, and I hope we do it as gracefully as you and Mom did over the years. You can let go now, Dad. I’ll be all right.”
Joseph Uncle nodded, too choked up for words as he handed her over to Thomas. Rachel Auntie slipped her hand in his, and we followed them through the gates of the small, whitewashed church. Inside, ornate gold frescoes glowed in stark contrast to the simplicity of the exterior. The smell of burning candles hung heavy the air.
Isabelle and Thomas held hands as the priest recited prayers and placed twin crowns, connected by a ribbon, on their heads. The ceremony was somber, until the priest said something about how the wife should fear her husband. Isabelle stomped on Thomas’s foot with a laugh. The small congregation cheered her on even as Thomas tried to playfully pin down her rebel foot.
“Na Zisete!”the guests exclaimed, after the priest invoked blessings and removed the crowns.
I handed out small bags ofkoufeta—sugar-coated almonds packed in odd numbers to signify the indivisible bond of marriage.
“If you slip this under your pillow tonight, you’ll dream of the person you’re going to marry,” a guest informed me.
“I don’t plan on sleeping tonight,” I said. “I’ll be up celebrating all night.”
Truth was, the only person I reached for when I closed my eyes was Alex.
Nikos appeared by my side. With Teri gone, we were paired up once again as the best man and the maid of honor.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Lead the way.” I smiled. We’d played each other in our own way, but something had solidified between us. Something had solidified between every person who’d been at the table on the final night. That last dinner had been a confessional booth—the thirteen of us, offering up our sins.
Under the rain of rice and rose petals, I looked at the faces of everyone present, one by one. Naani frowning at her phone, busy messaging PPP (my new name for her boyfriend as Prem Prakash Pyarelal was a mouthful). Beside her, Dolly laughed as Fia crouched on the steps—lens up, shoulders hunched—trying to capture the rice storm and protect her gear at the same time. George’s phone rang in the chaotic swirl of pink and white. He looked at the screen and slid the phone back into his pocket. Kassia reached for his hand and squeezed.
I didn’t know what awaited Thomas’s parents when the creditors caught up to them, but the look they shared was of two people wanting to shut the world out for another day. Standing next to them, Joseph Uncle and Rachel Auntie beamed as Isabelle and Thomas turned to wave goodbye. From driving their baby girl home from the hospital to being bystanders at her wedding, they’d never stood together with more love and respect for the other.
Nikos and I walked Isabelle and Thomas through the church gates, to the narrow street outside.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Papadakis.” I hugged Isabelle, feeling a rush of emotions for my cousin. Childhood memories. The games we made up. The pranks we played.
“You.” She stepped back and held my hands. “It was meant to be you all along. I’m sorry about Teri. I can’t imagine sharing my wedding day with anyone else by my side.”
“You might change your mind.” I picked the rice grains off her hair. “We still have the reception to get through.”
“You’re not going to topple off the stage again, Moti. I made sure there is no stage.”
