The smile Luca returned was equally small but just as real. Maybe he had no idea what he was doing with his life: in the cabin he no longer lived in; on the farm; with Emerson King. Maybe Emerson hadn’t let Luca help with the wildflower field; maybe he hadn’t helped fix the barn.
But maybe Luca could give one good thing to these kind, decent people he wished were his friends. Maybe, in terms of getting through today, that would at least be something.
The party arrivedthe moment a yellow school bus drove up the gravel drive of Short King Farms. Even before it parked, heads popped out of windows, yelling and whooping. Luca directed it to a stop near the house, welcomed its passengers to the farm, asked if anyone needed extra assistance making it up the hill to the ceremony site.
The fourth man off the bus yelled, “Caravalhoooo! Caravalho gay wedding!” He pulled Luca into a somewhat violent hug, thumping him on the back before raising both arms in the air. “Fuck yeah!”
“Jaco, get a hold of yourself,” Ben’s mom suddenly appeared next to Luca to say. Luca had forgotten her name. He’d met so many people in the last twenty-four hours. She shoved him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take over directing the rest of these yahoos from here.”
After stepping aside, Luca couldn’t think of anything else he needed to do. Morgan was nowhere to be seen, neither was Emerson. Slowly, Luca turned and joined the procession up the dirt road to the wildflower field. Halfway there, a wet nose pushed into his hand.
“Hey, Delilah.” He smiled down at her. “Will you be my wedding date?”
She walked at his side. He took that as a yes.
And felt weird about how grateful he suddenly felt for a dog he’d just met.
At the wildflower field he stood off to the side, near the entry to the walkway. Watched people find their seats, hug each other, chit chat. A woman played a cello near the dais Emerson had built. Someone collected Delilah, leading her back down the road. Luca wondered, as the crowd continued to fill in, whether he should even be here. Things were all set up now, seemed to be running smoothly. Morgan and the wedding officiant and the caterers and the rest of the hired staff would take care of the rest. Maybe there wasn’t a real reason why Luca should be standing here, suffocating in the glow of other peoples’ love.
And then Emerson came up behind him. Luca could sense him before he saw him, could smell him, knew the touch of his hand on his back.
“Hey,” Emerson said, and Luca wanted to melt into him.
Luca’s body was a traitor.
“Hey,” he said back, voice low. “How’re you doing?”
“Good,” Emerson said, like he meant it. Like he almost couldn’t believe it himself. “So far, things are going really, really good.”
Luca swallowed. “Told you,” he managed to scrape out, and Emerson laughed a little. His shoulder brushed Luca’s.
“You did,” he agreed. “That you did.”
And then they continued to stand there, side by side, as guests continued to file past. When Morgan hurried up the road, motioning the officiant, a tiny, fierce-looking woman named Ruby, to the stage, when the cellist changed their tune, photographers getting into place, Luca and Emerson stepped back even farther, to the edge of the field.
They watched the wedding party make their way up the road: Julie and Carolina—the scary one, Luca remembered from that night at the Tavern—bouquets of greens and yellows and golds held in their hands. Ben’s brother, whose name also escaped Luca’s memory. And then Ben himself, flanked on either side by his parents. Followed by Alexei, one arm looped around Alina’s, the other holding Delilah’s leash.
Luca and Emerson watched the rest over the sea of wildflowers between them and the main event. Delilah walking onto the dais, promptly lying at Ben and Alexei’s feet. The color scheme of the wedding party fit the field perfectly; the sun shone warm on everyone’s shoulders, undercut by a gentle September breeze.
The longer they stood there, just barely able to make out the words of the ceremony, the increasing sniffles of the crowd, the more Luca’s body relaxed. Emerson still stood the slightest bit behind him; he felt himself leaning back into him, and Emerson letting him. The barest touch that felt so loud, so steady in the tumult of the day.
Before the vows, Ben’s dad read a poem in Portuguese. Alina read a poem in Russian. Ben’s friend Khalil read a poem in English. Luca kept leaning on Emerson, feeling another overwhelming swell of gratitude to be here, on this land, in this state, in this world, where at least for a moment, everything felt beautiful.
When the ceremony was done, Ben and Alexei and Delilah streaming back down the aisle, Emerson tilted his head up to Luca’s ear.
“Everyone will be heading to the barn now,” he said, and Luca had to blink, get himself acclimated again after the trance he’d lulled into, him and Emerson in their own quiet corner. “I’m going to make sure everything goes okay there. But I think Ben and Lex are off to take pictures around the farm. Would you mind trailing them, just to make sure everythinggoes okay? They’re free to go anywhere; just make sure all the gates are latched if they go into the pastures.”
Luca nodded. “Of course.”
He wanted to kiss Emerson before he left, but by the time he turned, Emerson was already walking away.
And that heavy, uneasy feeling that had been in his bones the rest of the day, whenever Emerson hadn’t been at his side, returned.
Luca caught up to Ben and Lex and their small wedding party easily, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he hung in the background and watched the photographer work. He did his part by warning everyone not to get too close to the goats, or they would try to eat their nice clothes. Sally and the chickens were out, though, and not too far into the pasture, a perfect situation for pictures. Luca waited at the gate with Delilah, who whined the whole time at not being able to chase all those birds.
They headed up the hill next, to the orchard, past the site of Emerson and Luca’s first kiss. It was safe for Delilah to join her people here, so Luca was pretty much useless again.
The light was perfect, Ben and Alexei’s matching green suits well-tailored and cool. Luca watched the photographer direct their movements, their eyes never leaving the other, their mouths never not smiling, and he tried not to hate himself for being so bad at fashion and falling in love.
