Lettie grabs my hand like this is something we do every day. The funny thing is it kind of feels like it. “C’mon, we don’t want to be in the picture.” She leads me along, my bare hand holding her red mitten. We leave the bridge and find a spot in the snow-filled meadow where we can watch but not end up in the photos.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“If you’re offering to keep me warm, yes,” she says.
I wrap my arms around her stomach and pull her close to my chest. “Better?”
“The best!” She coos. “I’m so happy to see you again.”
“I am so happy not to be 1700 miles away from you.”
“Wait! Watch,” she whispers. “It’s happening now.”
Jane, wearing a gray woolen cloak over her wedding dress, steps across the bridge, looking like an illustration from one of my grandma’s old fairytales. She taps Charlie on the shoulder. He turns around. For a moment, the frozen valley holds its breath. The gray hood partially conceals Jane’s face. She pulls it back, revealing an incandescent smile.
“Do you think he’s crying?” Lettie asks.
“Seems likely.” I picture Lettie standing in front of me, dressed in white, holding a bridal bouquet. Even with my arms wrapped snugly around her, it seems an impossible dream. “I would be.”
“Me too, I think,” she whispers. “I don’t normally cry happy tears. But I’d be so happy.” Does she mean she’d be so happy if it were me? I want to believe that, but I don’t dare. Charlie wipes his face with the back of his hand. “Did you see that?” she asks.
“Yeah, looks like Jane’s tearing up, too.”
“No surprise there. She cries when she sees a picture of a cute puppy.”
I chuckle. Lettie always makes me laugh.
“How did things go with Caroline last night,” I ask.
“She had a rough night. She’s struggling, which is understandable. This is her first wedding since her broken engagement.”
“Thanks for being so nice to her.”
“I am usually nice,” she answers, slightly offended.
“Not always, not to me.”
“All that is in the past. I plan on being extremely nice to you.”
“Be still my heart. Is Lettie Benson flirting with me?”
“Shut up. I’ve been flirting with you for months in my emails and texts.”
“But this is in person. This is next level.”
“It kind of is.” I can hear the happiness in her voice.
“Now what’s happening?” I ask, nuzzling in closer. The photographer has left the couple alone on the bridge and snaps photos from a distance. Jane and Charlie face each other, holding hands like two people in a musical about to burst into song.
“They’re exchanging the vows they wrote.”
“Huh?” I consider this.
“It’s sweet.” Lettie sighs. “It’s nice for the couple to have a quiet moment together before all the busyness of the ceremony.”
A light mist swirls up from the water while the morning sun turns all the snow and ice, the softest shade of pink. Scenery this good should not go to waste. With my hands on her shoulders, I gently turn Lettie around and give her another proper kiss.
***
