“It’s fine,” I said, smiling and taking hold of my son, who instantly relaxed. “What’s up, Jay?” I asked. “Why are you driving Auntie Naya crazy? Let me guess, mean old Sue did something to make you angry?”
Sue walked in behind Naya and murmured, “You wish. The one who should be complaining is me. I’ve never had to wear such a ridiculous dress in my life.”
Sue, Naya, and Shannon were my maids of honor, and they had on matching light-blue gowns with their hair hanging over their shoulders. Naya loved it—she looked good, and she knew it—but Sue had hardly stopped carping since I first mentioned the idea.
“Let me remind you, Sue, it is my wedding,” I chided her.
“And that’s supposed to be my fault?”
“Besides,” I added, “you actually look good.”
“Mike’s told her so five times,” Naya informed me.
Sue rolled her eyes. “I need a guy my age.”
“Mike is your age,” Naya responded.
“I mean mentally. Mike has the brain of a five-year-old on his best day.”
As I laid Jay down on a blanket, I asked what everyone was doing, and Naya told me they were all gathered on the beach. Spencer had walked off by himself, she said, and was reading and rereading the text of the ceremony. I still remembered the day he told me he’d gotten ordained as a priest online. I’d heard of people doing that but never thought it was real, but Spencer had done it, and now he was excited to officiate our marriage. The idea gave me nightmares at first, but it was exactly the kind of crazy thing that Jack loved, and he convinced me it would be fun. Spencer and I had grown close over the past few years, and it meant a lot to me that he wanted to be a part of my wedding. My brother Spencer—the guy who used to get mad at me and throw food in my hair—would now be standing in front of me as Jack and I read our vows.
I didn’t want to ask myself what could go wrong, because I wouldn’t know where to start.
“You’ve got five more minutes,” Naya reminded me. “Ross is already standing there waiting. I can’t believe I’m about to watch Ross walk up to the altar. That was something I never thought I’d see in my life.”
“Have you talked to him?” I asked.
Sue laughed. “I caught him raiding the appetizer table. His mom saw him and told him not to stain his tux, and he lost his shit and yelled at her to leave him in peace.”
Once Jay was asleep, I wrapped him up tight and handed him off to Naya, telling her my mother would take care of him. Sue and Naya walked out, and I shut the door behind them, gathering my courage as I waited for my father to arrive. I tried to remind myself that everything was taken care of—Jack had spared no expense, and the hotel that was handling the catering and everything else was top-notch. All I needed to do was make it down the aisle without tripping.
With nothing else to do, I kept wrapping the strands of hair on the sideof my face around my fingers and letting them go, watching them bounce slightly like little springs. Finally, I heard a knock and my father’s voice saying, “Jenny, are you ready?”
I opened up with jittery hands and said, “No, but I guess I never will be.”
“Does that mean we should go downstairs?”
“Yeah.”
Dad patted me on the cheek and said, “It’s going to be great, honey. We should get a move on, though. I don’t want your husband-to-be to have a heart attack.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yeah. He seems nervous. In the two or three minutes we chatted, he must have adjusted his tie fourteen times.”
“Jack can barely even tie a tie,” I informed Dad.
“I know. I had to help him with it. Again.”
I giggled as we walked downstairs, exited through the back patio, and walked onto the beach. There was a little trail of rose petals leading to the altar. Normally, I would have thought that was cheesy, but my mind was racing and I hardly noticed them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my whole life,” I said.
“Listen,” Dad replied. “We’ve still got time to catch a cab and hightail it out of here.”
I giggled, holding a bouquet of flowers tight to my chest. I didn’t even remember where I’d gotten it from. My whole body was trembling.
“I don’t know what’s up with me. The hard part’s over, right? Jack and I live together, we’ve got a kid. All I’ve got to do is go up there, sayI do, and get on with my life. But I’m still freaking out. I feel like I need to throw up.”
“You’d better do it now, then,” Dad told me. “Because you definitely don’t want the photographer memorializing that.”
