“Enjoy the air!” And yes, she was shouting too.
So, okay, I was probably the first English aristocrat that had shouted conversations with my housekeeper like she was my favorite auntie and not on the payroll.
But…
Well…
Fuck it.
That was me.
Dair slung his arm around my shoulders, whistled for his dog who came dancing to us, and we took off across the crunchy turf during a bright, sunshiny, bitterly cold day.
And like we had all the time in the world, which we did, we wandered my ancestral estate.
As the florists left, having completed their tasks a full hour after they should have, with buried annoyance I studied my binder and made ticks next to Flowers Delivered, Flowers Arranged, Florist Departure.
Alex, only minorly showing a baby bump, bustled up to me.
“Dad texted. They’re on their way,” she told me.
I looked to my binder and checked off, Dad’s Text. I was close to checking off Sharp Family Time, but since that was about to happen, and it hadn’t yet, I didn’t.
But before I was solid on that decision, the binder was whisked out of my hands by Mika, who passed it off to Cadence, before she said, “Go.”
She’d obviously received a text too.
The ceremony had been private, and neither Alex nor I argued that.
In this instance, it was whatever Dad wanted, we were happy to give to him.
The only ones in attendance at the justice of the peace ceremony were the bride and groom, Jamie, Dad’s best man (who obviously brought his woman, Nora), and Capucine, Marlo’s best friend and maid of honor (who, I’d recently discovered, was nearly as amazing as Marlo was).
Alex took my hand as we both searched the Rotunda at The Pierre where the small, intimate reception was to be held.
We found them, unsurprisingly, at the bar.
My sister and I headed that way, collected our men, and then we all made our way to the bridal suite.
Rix opened the champagne.
Dair passed him the glasses while he poured.
Alex and I made sure we all had the ivory rose petals.
So when the door opened, Dad and Marlo entered to a shower of downy beauty.
Dad was beaming.
Marlo was radiating.
She was also wearing a simple, but supremely elegant, long-sleeved ivory gown that had a boat neck and a three-foot train.
I started weeping.
Ugh!
When did I become a weeper?
