“Yes,” I admit. Lily smacks a hand to her forehead. “But please don’t tell anyone, okay? It was a stupid idea, and we’re leaving right now. We can cross it off the list.”
William laughs, and the sound is somehow formal, like everything else about him. “Forget that. It’s a party, come in and enjoy. No one will even notice.”
I’m wearing Lottie’s old charm bracelet tonight, and I twist the jewelry around my wrist. Lottie’s favorite charm—a red ladybug—jingles. The sight of it tugs at my heart and then snaps back like an elastic band.
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“Heavens no,” says William, swatting the air, as if physically batting the thought away. “You’ve just made my evening. But, you do owe me a dance.”
I look at Lily. I don’t want to leave her alone. “Oh, that’s so sweet, but I actually already have a date tonight.”
“Go ahead, Mom,” says Lily. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, go.” She shoos us away. She smiles encouragingly but there’s something heavy in her eyes.
On the dance floor, green vines hang from the ceiling of the tent, crawling up the walls and over the archways. Alongside them are hydrangeas in blues and whites. It looks like someone robbed a florist, or more accurately, twelve florists. Tea candles are placed strategically throughout the tables, lending the whole venue a warm, fairy-tale element. It’s the kind of setting where anything could happen.
“Wow, this is incredible,” I say aloud as William moves his hand to my waist.
“Did you have a wedding like this?”
I shake my head. “No, I actually never married James. I just took his last name so Lily and I would have the same surname. I was eager to ditch my own. I don’t know if I’d like a wedding, though. I hate being the center of attention.”
I think of Lily and smile. She would love being the center of attention at her wedding. I imagine walking her down the aisle, giving her away.
William spins me. “Maybe that’s just because you weren’t with the right person.”
I try to catch a glimpse of my daughter through the crowd. When I finally locate her, she’s standing by the raw bar, sipping champagne by herself. I feel awful for ditching her.
“What about you?” I ask William, going through the motions. “Was your wedding like this?” I know he was married twice before, once to a girl he met in high school, and again, a few years ago, to a woman in her early thirties. Neither marriage resulted in kids.
“Of course,” says William. “I love a wedding. That’s why I’ve had two.” I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.
The bride makes her rounds around the room, her tight updo growing more unraveled as the evening progresses and the champagne keeps flowing. Guests move out of the way to make space for her long, sweeping train. I hope she doesn’t spot me. I’m starting to think this is a terrible idea again—that I’ve now become complicit in ruining someone’s carefully planned day. What if she sees me and gets upset?
William twirls me again, and the music changes, picking up speed. There’s a ten-piece band on a large, elevated stage. The crowd is closing in on us, gaining momentum. The dancing becomes morefrantic. I spin in William’s arms, this time faster. As I’m spinning, I look for Lily again, making sure she’s still okay. I’m peering through the moving bodies, searching the seafood station, when William jerks me once more, and this time, I lose my balance. My heels, still sandy, slide against the slippery dance floor. I sense myself pulled down, William’s hands losing their grasp.
For a moment, all I feel is the emptiness of air. I brace myself for impact, and then… The next thing I know, someone is catching me. A strong pair of arms wrap around my rib cage and stabilize me, so I’m standing right side up again. At first, I think it’s William, but when I look up, I see an entirely different set of eyes staring back at me.
“Tommy?” I say, looking into his familiar face. He’s wearing a suit and looks devastatingly handsome in the candlelight. His expression is placid and unreadable.
“Apologies,” he says. “You bumped into me and I didn’t want you to fall and get hurt.”
I notice, with some embarrassment, that his hands are still around me. He seems to register this at the same moment and quickly lets go.
We remain like that for some time, held hostage to the moment, staring at each other. I can’t believe it’s him. Even still, I can’t believe he’s here, on the island, so close but also unreachable.
“Thank you for saving my date.” William appears between us, moving to offer Tommy his hand. In the process, I’m nudged away from Tommy. “I’m William, by the way, and this is my girlfriend, Rose.”
I wince at the termgirlfriend, straining to read Tommy’s reaction, but he remains resolute. If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Besides, why should he care, anyway?
Tommy takes William’s hand, gives it a firm shake.
“Girlfriend?” he repeats. “Your date?”
I’m thinking of a good way to protest without hurting William’s feelings, when he jumps back in, interrupting. “That’s right,” he says. “I’m the luckiest guy here.”
