I rake my hand through my hair. “You know about that?”
“Amelia told us. Said that if you hadn’t pulled some strings we would be getting married in the backyard here.”
“It’s not a bad view.”
“No,” Grant sighs, “but it’s not what Meredith wants. And you made that happen.”
I’ve never shied away from talking about my feelings, but talking about them with Grant is like seeing a corpse flower into bloom, a rare phenomenon.
“I get if it’s too late, but I do want to say I am sorry for the way I treated you growing up. For taking out my issues on you. For everything really.”
There’s a tenderness to his words that makes me believe he really means it.
“I totally understand if I was too much of an asshole, but I would really like to be brothers.”
I allow myself a moment to process what he’s saying. What he’s asking for. And after everything this weekend I have to believe in second chances.
“We can still try.”
Grant stares at me, disbelieving.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I nod, “I’ve always wanted a brother.”
Before I even know what’s happening, Grant hops up from the couch and wraps his arms around me. Grant clears his throat as he pulls away. “Now then, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have my brother come and get ready with me and the rest of my friends.”
35 Mira
“Alright, now grab her hand and frolic down the mountainside like you’re the main characters inThe Sound of Music,” I direct as we hustle to get photos done before the ceremony.
Although the scenic view Meredith requested is only a half-mile hike like she said, this didn’t account for the twenty-minute drive up the side of the mountain to get to the trailhead.
“It’s not like they can start without us,” she assures me when I mention the time constraint, but I can’t argue with her. “Now come on, I can’t wait to see you work your magic.”
We venture through the grassy terrain, laughing and joking together, as we stop every couple of feet to take more photos. I worried there might be some residual awkwardness between us after the incident last night, but Grant treated me like one of the party posse when I made my way into his cabin to take the groom’s getting-ready photos. More shocking though was finding Hudson there, laughing and having a good time. They even took a photo together. And although I had zero time to ask how the hell that happened, Hudson assured me that he’d tell me all about it later.
“Okay, now spin and kiss,” I say, clicking my shutter rapidly to ensure I get the shot. Now that I’ve admitted that this might be one of the last weddings I’ll ever capture, I’m feeling nostalgic, eager to appreciate every moment.
Grant follows my directions perfectly, taking the lead as he sweeps Meredith into his arms and dips her backwards, pressing his lips against hers. Although their relationship might be considered unconventional there’s no denying there is a genuine love between them. They lengthen their kiss, their hands finding each other’s bodies, and I call out another prompt.
“Can you try picking her up?”
“No problem,” Grant replies, effortlessly lifting Meredith into the air, and I can’t believe she thought he was camera-shy. Grant has been grinning non-stop all day, playing to the camera like he’s on a reality TV show. Thankfully Vanessa stopped by his cabin with her makeup kit and did a pretty remarkable job of covering most of the damage Hudson inflicted last night. The purple-and-blue bruise looks like nothing more than a bad night’s sleep.
The scenery is stunning, the landscape rivaling that of a mythical fantasyland, as the purples, yellows, and greens meet the blue sky at the horizon. Without the pressure of packing my portfolio with click-worthy imagery I’m able to have fun with it, a feeling I haven’t associated with photography in quite some time, and I think of the images I’ve been most proud of this week.
The lake, the bison, and now this mountainside.
I know Hudson wasn’t serious about that job offer, he couldn’t have been, but I can’t help but wonder what it might be like, to get paid to travel. To take photos of all the gorgeous places of the world, to have financial security, to do more of the things that make me feel alive.
I direct Meredith and Grant in a few more poses before they make their way back towards me, their bodies finding each other for a final portrait.
“You two ready to party?” I ask, putting on my lens cap.
“Hell yes,” Meredith replies, as Grant bends down to help her gather the crochet overlay of her dress. We make our way to the ceremony site.
The drive down the mountain is quiet, a rarity for Meredith, and I can tell that the pre-ceremony jitters are finally setting in. Her knee bobs up and down as she stares out the window, a bouquet of wildflowers in her lap. I watch her eyes find a peaceful contentment when Grant rests his hand on hers, moving his thumb over her wrist.
