Rita danced to every record. I mean EVERY record. She two-stepped to Luther, she wobbled to Cupid, and when the DJ threw on some Megan Thee Stallion, she hitched up her dress and hit a move that made Quest spit out his drink.
“Grandma!” Justice covered Dream’s eyes.
“Boy, please. I was twerking before it had a name.”
Prime and I did our first dance to “Adorn” by Miguel. He held me close with one hand on my lower back and his mouth against my ear, whispering things that had no business being whispered in front of one hundred people.
“Can you behave?” I whispered back.
“I’ve never behaved a day in my life, Goddess. You knew that when you married me.”
I did. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about him.
Halfway through the song, Aunt Jesse brought Kheris over and May followed with Idris. Prime took our daughter without missing a beat, cradling her against his chest with one arm while his other hand stayed on my waist. I took Idris, who immediately grabbed a fistful of my veil and tried to eat it.
The photographer lost her mind. I could hear the shutter going off nonstop as we swayed there, the four of us, our first dance as a family. Kheris slept through the whole thing. Idris drooled on my veil and I didn’t even care.
Prime looked down at our daughter against his chest, then at our son yanking my hair, then at me.
“We did good, Goddess.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We really did.”
After the song, the photographer pulled us aside for family portraits. Me and Prime. Me, Prime, and the twins. The twins with Rita, who refused to take off her hat for a single frame. Then one with everybody, all the Banks and Kings crammed together, Dream making a silly face, Storie giving her signature unbothered stare, and Idris screaming because he’d had enough of pictures. That one ended up being my favorite.
It was almost midnight when somebody yelled, “THROW THE BOUQUET!”
I grabbed my flowers and turned my back to the crowd of single women who’d gathered on the dance floor. Serenity was front and center, hands up. Two of Prime’s cousins wereelbowing each other for position. Storie was standing way in the back pretending she wasn’t participating, but her hands were definitely ready.
Mehar was off to the side near the bar, holding a glass of champagne, not even paying attention. Scrolling her phone with one hand.
I threw it high. Watched it arc over the crowd.
And it landed directly at Mehar’s champagne glass, bumping it and spilling it.
She blinked. Looked at the bouquet in confusion then looked at me.
“I wasn’t even playing!” she yelled.
The crowd went crazy.
“That counts! THAT COUNTS!” Serenity was screaming, pointing at Mehar, laughing so hard she was bent over.
Mehar pulled the bouquet off the table, champagne dripping off the stems, and held it up like she didn’t know what to do with it. But she was smiling. That new Mehar smile that still surprised me every time I saw it because for so long she didn’t smile at all.
Then came the garter.
Prime slid his hand up my thigh in front of God and everybody, taking his sweet time, grinning at me while the crowd hollered. I smacked his hand twice when it went too high and he laughed and finally pulled the garter off with his teeth because he was dramatic and always had been.
He turned to the group of men on the floor. Quest wasn’t even out there. He was leaned back in his chair at the head table, bourbon in hand, not participating.
Prime flung it.
It sailed across the reception like a satin missile and landed directly on Quest’s shoulder.
Quest looked down at it. Looked at Prime. “Nah.”
“Bro, it landed on you. That’s the rules.”
