“I hope she’s doing better. Lettie said she was struggling with the wedding.”
“Oh! So now you tell me! Let’s put a pin on my sister’s feelings and talk about Lettie sending you late-night texts. I’m hurt that I had to hear about this from another source!”
“Jane told you?” I’m pleased that Lettie told Jane. It feels one step closer to being an official couple.
“Yes, and first, let me say I’m thrilled. Chiefly because I was right. I knew you two were perfect for each other since the moment I saw you two standing under the mistletoe. But also, I’m wounded. Why didn’t I hear about this new development from you?”
“It’s not that new; it started in July.”
“Worse and worse.” He shakes his head. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d give me grief... as you are now.”
“I’m only giving you grief because you didn’t tell me.” I give him a quelling look. “Fine, I’ll stop. Just tell me... how’s it going?”
How to answer? I could say the truth: Awesome. Amazing! Better than I dared hope. I’m obsessed. In just a few hours, I’m going to see her, and I’m so excited and nervous my heart feels like it will combust. But I’m a guy, so I settle on, “I don’t think she hates me.”
Charlie laughs and slaps his knee. “Judging from that grin, I’d say things are going better than that.”
***
We pull up to Swinging Bridge picnicarea, a flat meadow surrounded by massive silent cliffs. Not surprisingly, there are no other cars here at 6:50 in the morning. Every noise we make sounds extra loud in the empty parking lot. Charlie gets out of the car and glances around, disappointed. “Looks like we beat them,” he says as he returns to the passenger seat.
“To be fair, you didn’t have to do hair and makeup,” I point out.
“I’ll have you know I did my hair.” Charlie touches his impeccable blond hair. “Is that them?”
A Jeep pulls up that I don’t recognize. Out of the passenger seat climbs a petite middle-aged woman in a full-length down coat—I’m guessing it’s the photographer. Charlie bounces out of our car, heading over to greet them, when a female voice yells. “Charlie, No! Not yet!” My whole body recognizes that voice. And it’s not Caroline. With an uncontrollable smile, I get out of the car. Lettie clomps in snow boots to block the back passenger door of her vehicle.
She leans against the door with her arms folded. “Go away, Charlie!” Then, in a softer voice. “Hi, Liam!” She says, her eyes sparkling. “It’s good to see you. Can’t wait to catch up.”
Lettie is here, standing in front of me, breathing out clouds of frozen air. I find myself staring, lost for words. “Liam,” she says. “Can you make sure the groom doesn’t look over while Jane gets out? This is very important to her.”
“Got it.” I frog march Charlie to the other side of my black Rover. Once he is looking in the opposite direction, I holler, “All clear.”
“Thank you!” Lettie calls back.
“Good to see you, too!” I shout, finally finding my words.
“I promise I won’t peek,” Charlie says with his eyes fixed on the cliffs ahead. “In my excitement, I forgot. You don’t need to guard me. Go give Lettie a proper welcome.”
“I plan on it. Trust me. But first, I’m going to make sure Jane gets the photos she wants.” As I guard Charlie, I watch Lettie dressed in a puffy coat, snow boots, and that same old red beanie tramping on the snow to create a path for Jane to follow.
She runs back to us in a few minutes. The photographer is already taking photos of Jane crossing the snowy bridge.
“You’re going to love this next bit,” Lettie says to me.
“Am I?” I ask. I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. And why I’m guarding Charlie. But I get that this is important to the bride and Lettie. So, I do what I’m told.
She pauses, unzips her backpack, and pulls out a long gray knitted scarf. “Wrap this around his head.”
“You’re right,” I chuckle. “I do like this.” I take the scarf from her and wrap it around Bingham’s pretty boy head.
“Don’t mess up my hair,” he says in jest, I think. Some people tend to have wild bedhead no matter how hard they try to tame it. Charlie’s hair is the opposite. No amount of physical activity, rain, wind or snow, helmets or hats can mess up his freakishly blond Ken Doll hair.
“Do I look stupid? I bet I look stupid,” Charlie sputters. He does look a little strange in his gray three-piece suit with a bespoke boutonniere and his head wrapped in a bulky gray scarf.
“You look like you have a wasp’s nest on your head,” Lettie says with a huge smile.
