It’s great to watch Dean dance with her, unpracticed and nervous, but doing it anyway, and still smiling. I don’t think he’s been near a dance floor since his prom night, so this moment is an even bigger deal in my heart.
A few more lines, and Sadie cuts in, hug-dancing with her. Even my tough little spitfire is looking a little misted up, her lips trembling almost imperceptibly as she smiles. God, she’s beautiful. Her dress is strapless, and I take a deep, steadying breath as the thought of running kisses along her shoulders, tracing her myriad tattoos with my lips, passes through my head. I’d sell my soul for the chance without thinking twice.
Finally, Liaden cuts in, the newest member of our family but no less important to us all. She beams at Em, who is laughing through her tears, and then I cut in, starting the round again. On and on, we cut in on each other until the song is done.
The guests all look touched, and I imagine Sadie and Liaden filled some of them in on the plan until word spread. But the most heartwarming reaction is Eli’s as he films us on his phone, beaming as he watches his wife dancing with family, hisandhers now.
Found family is the best because it’s the family you get to choose, and we chose her.
Sadie
Predictably, as soon as the partyreallystarts, Leo lives on the dancefloor. It’s his happy place; if the man hears any music whatsoever, his toes start tapping as a Pavlovian response. And tonight, filled with the joy of the wedding atmosphere, he’s at his most exuberant. Everyone, from Emily to Wendy to his sister’s wife, is pulled onto the dance floor with him, one by one. He’s relentless. I can’t resist dancing with him myself whenDancing in the Darkcomes on, not terribly surprised when my fond eye-rolling turns into happy giggles. We sing along, getting some of the words wrong but not caring because this song is one of our shared favourites, and his eyes are lit up with enjoyment the entire time. He’s a being of pure joy, I think to myself, on this planet to have a good time and help others do the same. And being twirled and spun by Leo makes it impossible not to share it. I’d defy anyone to resist being swept away by him.
He really is looking verrrrrry fine tonight.
I blink, shocked at my unbidden thought. Where the hell didthatcome from?
I brush it off quickly. It’s just high spirits mixing with the wedding of two of our best friends in the world making everything seem more invigorating. Nothing more. Nothing to think about twice.
And then, heaven help us,Party Rock Anthemstarts up.
This song is pure Leo, his current number one jam. And if I thought he was letting it all hang out before, this new song makes his previous efforts look like he wasn’t even trying. His last remaining restraints evaporate entirely as he starts shufflinglike he was in the music video, like he’s been possessed by Sky Blu and Redfoo themselves. Em joins in with him, and seeing the bride shuffling for all she’s worth is one of the highlights of my day. People crowd to the dance floor, joining in or watching, all involved, all of us fully in the moment.
Leo’s moves catch everyone’s eye, because how could they not? And by the time the song peaks, they’re all circling him and cheering him on as he breakdances, throwing the sort of moves even I didn’t know he was capable of. He throws his jacket off at one point as the peak of the song approaches, and I think again how good he looks in formalwear.
And I seem to be cheering the loudest when he finishes with a kick up from flat on his back, dusting himself off with the innate cool that seems to come naturally to him and pulling everyone in so we’re all shaking our thing by the time the next song takes over.
Nobody dances like Leopold Mills.
“Having fun?”a gentle voice asks behind me as I grab another glass of wine from the bar. After a good half hour on the dancefloor, finishing withCome on EileenandBaggy Trousersback to back because the DJ is a reckless maniac, I’m gasping.
I turn to see Wendy’s smiling face. Her hair is a wonderful mix of apricot, mauve, and turquoise, freshly done for the occasion, with some of her natural silver at her temples. She’s one of the warmest people I know, and I feel a small pang of guilt as I fleetingly wish she wasmymother. I mean, I love my own, and all, but my connection with Wendy is stronger, easier. She’sopen to understanding me, andcaresto understand me in a way my own mum seemingly just doesn’t. Mum just wants to keep the peace, even if it costs her and other people theirs.
I beam. “Absolutely.” I give her hand a squeeze. “How about you?”
“Oh, yes,” she says, her voice warm, “it’s been just lovely to catch up with everyone. And Dean’s speech…” She fans her eyes. “God, I can’t think about it too much, or I start to tear up.”
“Itwasgreat. And he’s doing so well.” It’s been mindblowing to see the change in him, his increased confidence and stability, just as his friend. As his mother, it must be little short of miraculous.
“But how about you?” she asks, and it’s like she can see right through me. “Areyoudoing well, honey?”
It’s a hard question to answer. Because on the one hand, yes, I’m doing great. I’m out of a shitty relationship, surrounded by friends, and seriously enjoying watching two of them have the happiest day of their life. But…
Why is there always a ‘but’.
I can’t deny it: I’m also filled with bitter, stinging envy towards both Em and Liaden tonight. I wish I was here with the love ofmylife, too. I know now that that’s definitely not Peter, never was, but still, it’s hard not to feel a bit like a spare part when most of your nearest and dearest are all coupled up. I glance over to where Em and Eli are slow dancing together, forehead to forehead, lost in each other and the newness of being amarriedcouple. Liaden and Dean are there, too, laughing together happily as they sway from side to side, in their own little bubble of romance. It hurts. I feel like a self-pitying, self-absorbed old hag for thinking this way, but I can’t seem to help it.
“I’m doing OK,” I finally settle on. Wendy’s wonderful and a bottomless well of empathy, but she has better things to do ather nephew’s wedding than listen to me banging on about my troubles.
She squeezes my arm. “Well, listen, y’all know where I am if you need to talk. And…if you’ll take some advice…keep an open mind.” She smiles mysteriously. “Sometimes, something right under our nose can turn out to be something we always wanted.”
I frown curiously, but she shrugs, moving away again so she can head back towards Kit. Another example of ‘couple goals’: Kit and Wendy’s still-newlywed style adoration of each other. “I’m just sayin’.”
What did she mean by that, I wonder? Thinking on it and coming up empty handed, I take a sip of deliciously cold and refreshing Prosecco, watching the slow dancers hold each other, and smile to myself. It’s just not my turn yet, that’s all. Maybe at the next wedding - my money’s on it being Dean and Liaden, because duh - I’ll have someone to dance with then. Someone who’s mine.
I jump slightly as an arm is slung around my shoulder, and then immediately relax when I see who it is. The sleeves of his white shit have been rolled up over his arms, showing how they’re dusted with golden hairs. I’d know the half-finished tattoo on his wrist anywhere. I stopped halfway through doing it when we had a row about Peter this one time, and somehow we made a silent agreement never to finish it. Fortunately it’s an abstract tribal pattern, so it doesn’t look ridiculous, just smaller than planned.
“Having a breather?” I ask.
