“He’s your brother.” Susan waves at the caterers as they bring over a tray of salmon puffs. She snatches one, popping it in her mouth and swallowing it before anyone can see her actually consume it. “You can’t tell me you need a study period to find something nice to say about him.”
Considering I couldn’t think of anything besides “Congrats” to write on his card, trying to find words to fill a whole speech is improbable. We’ve never got along. Not really. Even when we were kids, I remember Grant ignoring me every chance he got. Slamming the door and staying in his room the summers I was forced to visit thanks to the custody agreement. So unless Susan wants me to go up there and recount the night Grant got so mad he threw one of his baseball trophies at me, giving me the scar on my shoulder, I don’t have much to say.
I turn towards Katherine, who hasn’t looked at me since I arrived. “You’re giving a speech too, right?”
She holds up her phone, displaying paragraphs of text.
“Want to join forces?”
She laughs, still mad from my earlier declaration. Of all the times for her to actually hear me, this is the worst moment.
“Are you not speaking tomorrow, dear?” my mother asks, clicking her tongue against her teeth in disdain.
“Meredith asked Vivianne to do the honors,” Katherine explains, as Amelia clinks a knife against her glass, grabbing the attention of the crowd.
“If you could all take your seats, please. We’re going to have our first speaker of the night. Grant’s brother, Hudson Hayes.”
A cacophony of heels clicking against linoleum and chairs being pushed aside fills the room, as all eyes turn to me. I thoughtI would have more time, that Katherine might have jumped at the chance to go first, but she’s clearly relishing my downfall.
I down my glass of champagne as Amelia hands me the microphone.
The room goes silent. I’ve been to enough weddings to know that whatever I say is supposed to be heartfelt. A poignant yet charming tribute to the bride and groom, strung together with personal anecdotes and well wishes, but staring at the happy couple of honor my mind goes blank, completely devoid of original thought.
My palms begin to sweat, and there is a dry, scratchy cough building in the back of my throat. And when I move the microphone too close to my mouth, reverb blasts through the quiet room, causing guests to cover their ears.
Is this what it’s going to feel like addressing the employees at Elite on Monday? Will the Slack channels be filled with private messages discussing my inadequacies?
I try to shake off my insecurities as Grant grabs my arm. “Dude. Say something.”
“Thanks for coming,” I say, at a loss at what to say next, until Mira steps in front of me, camera in hand, offering me a confident smile. She’s absolutely stunning in the candlelight, glowing like a campfire, and staring at her, I find my words.
“Welcome, everyone, and thank you so much for coming out to celebrate Grant and Meredith this week,” I say, my voice steadier now.
Light applause rings out from the crowd, the loudest coming from Derrick, who is fisting an entire bottle of champagne. “Wooo! Fuck it up, Hayes.”
“Thank you, Derrick,” I chuckle as Grant pats his best friend on the shoulder, his other arm draped around his fiancée.
“As you all can see, it’s pretty obvious that these two are crazy about each other. From not spending more than a few days apartsince they started dating, to traveling to a new state or country every other month, it’s safe to say that these two can’t get enough of one another,” I say, motioning towards them.
“They found each other at one of Susan’s parties, funnily enough,” I say, pointing to my mother, who delights in the attention. “It’s also funny to think how one day, one moment, one decision was all it took. Meredith could have stayed at home that night. Grant could have gone to a basketball game. But instead they met on a boat in the middle of Lake Norman.
“But how did they know they were right for each other? It’s the question we all ask ourselves after that first encounter, questioning if those butterflies fluttering in your chest are momentary or forever. Growing up, I always believed that love was about sacrifice; this idea was based on characters I’d read about in books or seen in movies. I thought that to show ultimate devotion you had to give up parts of yourself for the person you cared about the most. Like how Wesley gave up years of his life to protect Buttercup, or how Arwen relinquished immortality for Aragorn.”
As I move my eyes around the room, I see expectant faces. And I’m ready to bare all. “But recently I discovered that love isn’t about sacrifice at all. It’s about showing up. It’s about being honest. And it’s about endlessly giving yourself to another. Whether it’s staying up a few minutes later because you don’t want the night to end, or remembering to order extra bao buns because they are her favorite. It’s laughing at a terrible TV show you have no interest in watching because she loves it or making her coffee in the morning because you want to make sure she’s caffeinated enough to get through the day.”
Mira stops shooting, her camera in her hand but far enough away from her face that I know her attention isn’t on capturing this memory but being a part of it.
“And so the question becomes how do you know if you’ve found that person. The one you can give your time and energy to. The one who is not only deserving but who will give it back. As someone who recently stumbled upon such a person, I can attest that when it happens, you won’t be able to miss it. It’s like spotting a rare flower in the forest or stumbling upon a first edition of your favorite book at the thrift store. It’s so unexpected, wonderful, and exhilarating. But there’s another part that makes it so terrifying. Because you can’t help but wonder if you deserve this.”
Tears well at the corner of Meredith’s eyes and she wipes them away with a napkin, and there’s a softness to Grant that gives me pause. But it’s Mira, who’s staring at me from across the room, that makes me keep going.
“I used to be so afraid of never measuring up, of never being enough, of not making the right sacrifices, but now, I’m ready. Ready to step up. To live every day for the people I love, and to ensure those people feel that love every day.”
And as the words leave my mouth, the truth within them radiates through my chest. Taking over Elite, standing up for myself, being my authentic self. None of these challenges seem as daunting now that I have Mira. It’s as if all the anxious static in my brain has subsided and I can finally hear the music clearly. And it’s fucking beautiful.
“And so, I hope that you continue to show up for each other, believe in each other, and remember that the only sacrifices you should be worried about making is who gets the last slice of pizza,” I say, raising my glass. “To Meredith and Grant.”
29 Mira
