8
RAFAEL
Rafael’s knees weakened when the red doors of the little church with a steeple and stained-glass windows opened and his bride entered on the arm of her father. She stood with her dad in the entryway, and as the first notes of the prelude music played, the children started their way down the aisle. Lisa’s nephew Oliver, in a suit that matched the groomsmen, held a pillow in his hands and sped toward them with no deference to the tempo. When he reached his father, Oliver tossed him the pillow as though it was a football and then hastened his way to the first-row pew to sit beside Mama. Two-year-old Laine, dressed in a white tulle dress with pink bows, meandered toward them like a drunken college freshman, tossing pink rose petals in uneven bunches from her chubby hands. Halfway there, she seemed to forget her purpose and sat down in the middle of the aisle, as if to pick flowers in a meadow instead of dispersing them.
David waved to her. “Come on, baby. This way.”
“Daddy!” As if she hadn’t seen him for years, she leaped to her feet. With the same drunken gait only faster, she finished her performance. Before she could reach David, Mama scoopedher up and into her lap. Rafael expected a fuss, but Mama was too smart for that. She stuffed a chocolate in the child’s mouth, and all was well.
The piano player they’d hired for the wedding ended the prelude and paused for a moment before starting the processional music. Lisa had asked for a piano version of “A Thousand Years.” The notes of the song seemed to float on the rays of sun that filtered through the windows. On her father’s arm, with a serene smile across her face, she started toward him. Oh, his bride. What a beauty. She was a swirl of tulle and lace and, as always, seemed to glide rather than walk. As angels do. He put his hand on Stone’s arm to steady himself.
“You good, man?” Stone asked, under his breath. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”
“I might,” Rafael said.
“Don’t you worry,” Pastor Jordan said. “Catching grooms is one of my specialties.”
In dusty-rose-hued dresses covered in tulle and with fitted bodices, Pepper and Maggie stood on the other side of Pastor Jordan.
Rafael’s sight blurred with tears as Lisa made her way down the aisle. Her veil floated behind her. A bouquet of white and pink roses cascaded from her hands.
He wiped his eyes. David, who stood next to Stone, took a handkerchief out of his gray suit pocket and did the same. The men’s suits were the color of a stormy sky and paired with pink ties. All chosen by his bride, as it should be. He was in a dark gray, almost black suit. Not that anyone would be looking at him or the guys, given Lisa and her bridesmaids’ loveliness.
Finally, she reached him. Her father kissed her cheek. “Be well,” he said before addressing Rafael. “Take good care of myprincess.”
“Yes, sir.”
She moved to stand with Rafael in front of Pastor Jordan. Pepper stepped forward to take the bouquet.
Rafael took her hands and soaked in her beauty, completely awestruck by his bride. “I have no words to describe how beautiful you look.”
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, and his heart may have stopped for an instant.
Pastor Jordan welcomed them. Rafael caught Mama’s eyes sitting in the front pew. She placed her hand on her heart and beamed at him. Lisa’s mother sat next to Mr. Perry, perhaps for the last time. But for now at least, they appeared to be proud parents watching their daughter get married.
“Welcome, family and friends, to the wedding of Rafael Soto and Lisa Perry. I’m honored to be here today and thought I’d share a little of my philosophy and advice about marriage. Rafael, always take the time to notice what she’s wearing and compliment her. Be specific. Not ‘you look nice,’ but rather, ‘you in that dress makes me think we should just stay home and forget the party.’”
Nervous twitters from the audience didn’t seem to bother Pastor Jordan. He went right on with his advice.
“Talk through everything, especially the hard stuff like money and sex.”
More nervous laughter from the audience, including the bride and groom.
Undaunted, Pastor Jordan continued. “My father told me never to go to bed angry, and although it’s not a new idea, it sure is a good one. Have it out, work it out, and then make up. Also, it’s the small gestures of consideration and love that make a happy marriage. Bringing coffee to your spouse in the morning when you know they’ve had a later night, or taking out the trash when you notice it’s full. Finally, don’t ever forget that God made you for each other, with all your quirks and faults and gifts; you’re uniquely made to love each other. Be thankfulto him for putting in all that careful forethought.” He paused and looked up at the congregation. “Can I get an amen?”
A loud chorus ofamenechoed through the church.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Maggie and Pepper sang the song he’d asked for, “(God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time on You.” A surprise for Lisa—she cried as the ladies’ voices traded between melody and harmony.
They exchanged vows, promising publicly the sentiments they’d already said to each other the day before.
And with all that, they were pronounced husband and wife.
“And perhaps for the first time, you may kiss your bride without fear of damnation,” Pastor Jordan said as he winked at Rafael. “Come on now, I know you’ve been in the same room at the lodge.” He clucked his tongue, then laughed as he put one hand on each of their shoulders. “Seriously, now. Kiss your bride.”
Kiss her he did. And maybe Pastor Jordan was right. Kissing your wife without the fear of damnation was damn fine indeed.
9
