“Of course it’s for you,” my dad replies, smiling. “Who else would I be delivering a sunflower-themed wedding cake for at this place?”
I can feel myself tearing up. For months, I’ve been wondering why Cody wouldn’t let me have anything to do with our wedding cake, and as the day approached, I grew more stressed and frustrated, not knowing. I struggled to leave it to him, but I forced myself to do it and instead tunneled my restlessness into other things. But I think I see now what Cody has been up to.
“You did this?” I ask him softly, my voice trembling, my eyes blurry with tears. “You asked my dad to come to our wedding and make our cake?”
With my obstructed vision, I can see him nod before my dad says, “I don’t know if I’d call it ‘ask.’ The man’s been harassing me for months about this. I think he would have dragged me here if it came down to that,” my father says, laughing.
I wipe my eyes just in time to see my father take a few steps away from the unwrapped cake and look at it. “But I think I’ve delivered.”
“You definitely have,” Cody says. Then his gaze shifts to me, becoming less confident. “I mean, I think you have. What do you think, Luc?”
I can only nod, lost for words. I stand still and stare at the cake, dumbfounded, tears streaming down my face. After a while, I only manage to reply, “C’est magnifique.” Then I turn and let myself fall into Cody’s embrace, softly crying. Oh, there goes my concealer...
Cody caresses my hair and holds me tightly. Some part of me registers that there’s less tension in his muscles than before, when we were taking pictures. It tells me he was more anxious about this than he let on. I should probably thank him and my dad, but I can’t yet. For the time being, I’m just going to let Cody hold me and let my emotions take over. He did the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. And probably ever will do...
“Merci,” I mutter into his chest, but it doesn’t feel like enough, so I also thank him in English. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he replies, kissing my head.
After several minutes, I pull away from him and turn my attention to my father. I walk towards him and hug him tightly as well.
“Merci à toi aussi,Papa.”
He hugs me back and says, in French, “It was my pleasure, Luc. I’m just happy to be here and to do this for you. I’m... proud of you, son.”
His words bring new tears to my eyes, reminding me how much this has taken its toll on me over the past few months. It was difficult not knowing if my father would approve of my relationship, to live with the uncertainty of whether he would come to my wedding. And now to not only have him here but also have him say he’s proud of me means everything. I’m also relieved to finally know we have a wedding cake. If there’s one person—besides me—I would leave it to, it’s my dad, and I’m glad Cody recognized that.
After a long hug, my dad and I break apart, and I suddenly remember there’s something I should warn him about.
“By the way, Mom’s here too, Dad.”
As I expected, he looks unhappy. “What?! Odette is here?! You invited both of us?”
“I did; it’s my wedding, and I want you both here. I told her I had faith you would be here because you’ve always been therebefore when it mattered, and I was right. Because you’re here now.”
At those words, he relaxes somewhat. “Oh.”
“She didn’t like that I invited you both—same as you—but I told her to behave around you, and I expect you to do the same. Just be civil.”
My father’s jaw clenches and unclenches, and I can understand why; my mother and father haven’t seen each other in a long time, and there’s still a lot of anger and pain. I can only hope they can move beyond it just for one day. For me.
Which is why it’s a relief when my dad nods, sighs, and says, “Fine. I’ll be as nice as possible, as long as she is.”
That’s good enough, I decide, so I thank him again and bring my attention back to the wedding cake and the other person here. As I step toward Claire, Cody takes my place in front of my dad and shakes his hand as they start a conversation in English.
“Thank you too, Claire,” I say in French to the person I used to consider my competition. I’m now starting to see her more as a friend. “For helping and for being here.”
She flashes me a genuine smile and nods. “It was my pleasure. In fact, it was the least I could do because I felt like I owed you. You leaving Brussels worked out for me,” she says, glancing at my dad in a way that causes my stomach to turn into an uncomfortable knot.
“Oh God, please say you’re not dating my dad or something!”
Her attitude immediately changes. She tenses up and her face turns red. “Oh my God, no! Nothing like that! I mean, I can see how it would sound like that, but no. I... I’m gay, actually.”
A wave of relief surges through me. I can’t imagine finding out about the two of them dating on the day of my wedding with my mother here. That would have been too much.
“Okay, good,” I reply, letting out a sigh of relief. “Does he know that about you?”
Claire nods. “Yes, I figured he’d be okay with it, because of you. So I just told him one day while we were at the shop.”
