“I’m good,” I replied. “Let’s go ahead and get it over with.”
He offered me his arm, and I took it, standing next to him. I drew intwo deep breaths, and we started walking. As we topped the slight hill, I saw the chairs with their light blue upholstery arranged in two groups. There were flowers, a wooden arch, balloons, wreaths…and the guests—not too many, because we’d wanted an intimate wedding. Just Shannon; Owen; Sonny and Steve; Mary and Agnes; Sue, Mike, and Will; Jane and Naya; Lana and some guy I assumed was her latest hookup; Chris; Curtis; Vivian; some actors from Jack’s films; Joey; Nelle; a couple more family members; some other faces I didn’t bother looking at as I saw Spencer standing in front of the archway smiling from ear to ear.
Then there was Jack. The sight of him actually relieved me—he was more uptight than I was, if that was possible. He couldn’t even bring himself to glance at me. I was in a trance as the music played and we proceeded up to the altar. I thought Jack would crumble to pieces as my father clapped him on the shoulder before taking his seat.
Spencer started talking, and my eyes got lost in Jack’s tailored black suit, which was so sexy I almost forgot we were in public and I couldn’t throw myself at him—not yet, anyway. We met eyes, and I realized he must have been thinking exactly the same thing. He grinned and mumbled, “I’d hoped you’d wear something see-through, but I guess I’ll settle for this.”
I didn’t respond. All I could do was stand there stiffly and wait for the kiss that I knew was coming. Jack took my hand and recited something, but I didn’t even absorb the words, and finally, Spencer growled at me: “Jenny!”
“What?”
“Try and pay attention,” he muttered under his breath.
A few people in the audience giggled, and I felt the blood rush into my cheeks. Jack was trying to be serious, but he couldn’t help smirking as he squeezed my hand and tipped his head slightly toward Spencer, who repeated, “Do you, Jenny, take Jack to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
When I didn’t respond right away, Jack grunted, “You’re scaring me,” and I responded in a whisper, “Don’t be scared,” before nearly shouting, “I do.”
Jack smiled as he slipped a golden ring on my finger, and I thanked him as I did the same to him, feeling immensely grateful for that moment, even if my hands were shaking so much I could hardly stand it.
At last, Spencer declared, “By the power vested in me by the internet two months ago, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may get it on!”
“Spencer!” Mom shouted from the audience.
“Sorry,” he corrected himself. “Jack, you may kiss the bride.”
Jack cradled my face in his hands; I felt the heat of his flesh and the cold metal of his ring, and it made my heart speed up. I closed my eyes. It was a short, soft, tender kiss, and a few seconds later, he pulled away.
I thought he’d say something—he always did—but before he could speak, Spencer threw his arms around us both. Sonny and Steve came up and did the same, and soon half the guests had joined them.
Dinner was served on the hotel’s back patio. I had finally relaxed, even if I was a little concerned at the fact that my brothers were allowed access to an open bar—that felt like a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, they behaved, and the most embarrassing thing that happened was the toast Mike proposed, which consisted mostly of him cracking stupid jokes at our expense. Naya said a few words, too—as many as she could manage between sobs—and it was nice, despite everything. Everybody knew everybody, we didn’t feel a need to make excuses, and the mood in general was generous and friendly.
The minutes passed, then the hours, and food and alcohol were swallowed in large quantities. People danced, drank, ate, laughed, and danced some more… I couldn’t have hoped for anything better.
I was waiting at the bar myself when the photographer came over. She was a small girl with dark hair and expressive blue eyes. Her camera wasalmost as big as her head. She congratulated me and added, “I hope this isn’t a bad time, but I was thinking of trying to snap a few pictures just as the sun goes down. It’s really nice, with that last bit of light off of the sea.”
It was a good idea, especially because there were hardly any photos of Jack and me alone—every time we tried to take one, some guest or other crashed into the scene. I told her yes and grabbed my new husband, pulling him down the path. As we walked, I asked the photographer about her job. I was surprised to find out this was her first wedding—she normally did real estate photos, baptisms, things like that. I remarked that my sister had found her, thanks to a profile of a band on a music website.
“Oh, that,” she said. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’s group.”
“That hot guitarist with the tattoos is your boyfriend?” I asked. Shannon had shown me the website when we were shopping around for photographers and he was an impressive specimen, to say the least.
“Excuse me,” Jack said, clearing his throat. “Perhaps this is a good time for me to remind you that you’re married, and you can’t just go gawking at hot guitarists on the internet anymore.”
“It’s my sister’s fault,” I protested as the photographer, whose name was Brooke, told us where to stand. We posed for about twenty minutes, but soon the sun was so low that we had to call it quits. Brooke showed us the shots on her digital camera, and they were incredible. She really had an eye.
I was about to compliment her when I heard what sounded like a lion’s roar: my twin brothers, who were running over with mischief in their eyes. They lifted me off the ground before I could react and took off toward the water. I screamed for Jack’s help, but he was in the same situation as me: Naya, Sue, Will, and Mike had picked him up, too.
Before I knew it, my beautiful wedding dress was soaking wet and I was floating in the ocean. Furious, I shook my head and shouted, “Sonny, Steve! Get back here, you bastards! I swear to God, I’m going to drown both of you!”
Mike, who couldn’t let a second pass without making a smartass remark, said, “You’ll never get them to come back if you talk to them that way.”
I crossed my arms, fuming, as he grinned at me, his tuxedo shirt clinging to his chest. I guess his brother had been harder to handle than I was, so instead of throwing him in, he’d just plunged in with him.
Jack swam over, pulling off his jacket and tossing it to the shore. “Hello, my dearly beloved,” he said. I ignored all the people standing on the beach, some laughing at us, others stripping down to get in the water themselves. Jack grabbed my waist, pulled me into him, and gave me the kiss I wished I’d gotten at the altar—long, deep, intimate.
“I’ve got to tell you, Michelle,” he said, “when you told me you wanted a wedding by the water, I wasn’t so sure, but now I’m one-hundred-percent on board.”
“Two things,” I replied. “One, don’t call me Michelle or I’ll file for an immediate divorce. Number two, what changed your mind?”
