It’s the same way Hudson settles me when I’m overstimulated, my brain constantly ruminating on the next problem instead of being in the moment. The way I know that when he’s around I can exist without worry. Last night he was amazing in helping me process all the emotions I’ve kept bottled up for months. He made me feel safe, and loved, and cared for when I was most vulnerable. Even this morning, as he sat by me while I read Phoebe’s letter, he gave me the strength to believe in myself again.
And I can’t wait to tell him that I love him too.
36 Hudson
Colter Bay is stunning, a picturesque, serene, rocky beachfront that backs up to the towering Tetons, their snowcapped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun. Thanks to the permit we requested, we’ve been given a dedicated area for Meredith and Grant to tie the knot, but it has no bearing on the tourists enjoying the crisp mountain water behind us.
“Someone should go say something,” Vivianne says, as Amelia and her team erect the wedding arch, the view blocked by the slew of college kids drinking on a party raft behind it.
“Don’t worry, I got it,” Mira assures Vivianne, taking charge.
After watching her all day, I understand why she’s always starving after work—she must burn thousands of calories each shift. Between running back and forth all day, with those cameras hanging from her shoulders, she hasn’t sat down for a second. Her stamina is endless and she runs down to the rocky edge, shouting at the group. It only takes a minute before they are paddling in the opposite direction and waving apologetically.
I stand there in awe of her. Here, with a camera in her hand, she’s headstrong and tenacious, taking charge and handling crises with ease. It’s what has allowed her to succeed for all these years, but I know there’s another side of her too. The one who rememberslittle details, who helps elderly guests walk over rocky terrain, and who is smiling at me.
I can’t believe that I get to see all of her. The sour and the sweet. The subtle and the strong.
I want to wrap my arms around her, to push that hair out of her eyes, to kiss her there and then, when my mother’s voice rings out over the crowd.
“Hudson Walter Hayes!”
And I know I’m fucked.
Despite the rocky terrain, Susan’s surprisingly quick in her heels, her determination to cause a scene greater than any fear of turning an ankle. She comes right up to me, her lavish blue dress flowing behind her.
“Did you punch your brother last night?” she asks, pointing an accusatory finger in my face.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I explain, but rage flares behind her eyes.
“Seriously?” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose in disgust. It’s the same movement she’d make anytime I left my boots on the rug or embarrassed her by reading during her cocktail parties. “You decide this week is the time to work out your squabbles. I swear, we can’t get through a single family function without you or your brother embarrassing me.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Grant says, stepping in between us, irritation lining his face. “Can you go one day without making everything about you?”
“Excuse me?” Susan’s mouth pitches open. “Do I need to remind you that I’m the one who paid for all this?”
“You mean, my father paid for all of this,” Grant claps back. “Because you haven’t had a job since what? 1999?”
She’s stunned into silence, a feat I didn’t believe was possible.
“What in God’s name is going on over here?” George asks, pulling on the lapel of his navy suit jacket.
“Your son is being an ungrateful brat,” Susan says, crossing her arms over her chest. And now I understand why she’s always been incapable of mothering, because she still acts like a child herself.
George turns his attention to his son. “Grant?”
“What?” he snaps as we both watch George’s expression go rigid, his chest expanding in indignation.
“Your mother and I put a lot of time and money into this event—”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Grant argues, not backing down. “Meredith and I told you we wanted to pay for this ourselves. We tried to and then Susan came in and steamrollered our plans.”
“What plans?” George asks, annoyed. “I hope to God you didn’t plan to embarrass us because that’s what you’ve been doing all week. Putting us up in that sorry excuse for a hotel, torturing us on a boat, starving us to death. Is that what you wanted to do?”
“Just because it’s not what you want doesn’t mean it’s unacceptable.” Grant drags a hand over his face. “I know you think that I’m throwing my life away, that I’m still that stupid kid that needed you to clean up my mess, but I’m not. I’m an adult with a solid career, and a soon-to-be wife. I get that you want everything to be perfect but that’s not me. And it’s definitely not Meredith. I tried for years to fit into that mold, but I finally found someone who accepts me for me,” Grant says, his eyes radiating with pure love as he finds Meredith standing a few paces from us, Vivianne by her side. “And I’m going to marry her on our terms. We’re going to have wildflowers and a keg at the reception. And we’re not posing for any family photos not on our approved list. And you’re not going to say a negative word about me or my wife for the rest of the day? Got it?”
Coming up beside him, Meredith links her arm through Grant’s in solidarity and their relationship makes sense. Theirbond of found family, of cherishing the people who have chosen them, of overcoming childhood trauma, of accepting each other, flaws and all.
“I was just standing up for you,” Susan argues, her voice low now that guests have noticed the not so private conversation we’re having.
