Gabby
Igrumble when someone throws open the curtains. “Rise and shine, Gabs!” my mom crows. “It’s your wedding day!”
“Five more minutes,” I mutter.
“Nope. Can’t do it. You have a lot to do today.” She jerks the covers off, and cold air conditioning washes over my warm body. I’m wearing pajamas that say “bride” all over them. “It’s time to get ready.”
Mom has planned every second of the day, from breakfast all the way to the time when we’ll say our vows.
I scrub my eyes and sit up. “Where is everyone?” I ask.
“I asked them all to leave,” she says. She sits down on the edge of the bed. She’s wearing matching pajamas that say “Mother of the bride.” “I wanted some privacy so I can give you something.” She leans over and kisses my forehead. She presses an envelope into my hand. I look down at it. “For Gabby on her wedding day” is written in a masculine scrawl across the front.
I try to shove it back to her. “I don’t want it.”
She won’t take it. She just backs up. “Take your time with it. Everyone will be in the kitchen. Come and join us when you’re ready.” She jumps forward and nearly tackles me again, kissing my forehead and squeezing me tight. Then she vanishes.
She leaves me with the letter.
Alone.
She leaves me alone with the last words my dad ever had for me.
I don’t think of him as often as I used to. Sometimes, when I see my brother Alex smile, I can see my dad in his grin. And when Trixie lets out her booming laugh, I can hear him. When my mom gets pensive and stares into space, I can see him in her head, and I know that she’s thinking of him.
But me? I don’t think of him nearly as often as I used to. Until now.
I pick up the letter and slide my finger under the seal. The knowledge that it was written before he died isn’t lost on me. I know he wrote it the night several of his friends died, and he was feeling melancholy and worried he wouldn’t be around for us. Then he wasn’t. He died.
I take the letter from the envelope and unfold it, my heart in my throat, feeling like I can barely breathe.
But when I open it, it’s not what I expected to find at all.
My dad used to doodle. He did it a lot. He would draw lunch box notes when he was home from deployments. Or he would leave notes on the fridge. He has drawn a picture of a bride standing next to her husband, and behind her stands another man. I can see the camouflage shading on the uniform. My dad. He drew himself into my wedding day, silently standing there, supporting me. He stands to the side, but he’s there.
I press it to my heart and gulp. Jesus. He has given me the one thing I needed—to know that he is there. Here. With me. Always.
At the bottom of the picture, there’s a note.
I’ll be with you always. Don’t be too disappointed, but the note is not just for you. It’s for him too. So, go find him and read it together, okay?
I get up, go to the kitchen, and find Seth. We opted not to do the whole “can’t see the bride on the wedding day” thing. He’s in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal.
“Good morning,” he says. His eyes rake down my jammies. He’s wearing ones in black that have “groom” all over them.
“Where is everybody?” I ask.
“They all vanished a few minutes ago.” He shrugs. “I don’t know where they all went.”
The campground has been full of activity because, of course, all the Reeds and their friends are here. We closed the campground down for the week so they could enjoy it right up to the wedding.
The door opens, and G.L. walks in. He’s wearing pajamas that say “groomsman” on them. He’s not the best man, but he’s in the wedding party. Matt is Seth’s best man, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Gabby,” G.L. says. “I think your brain grew during the night.” He nods and winks, and then he goes back out the door after grabbing a cup of coffee.
“I think he’s still hung over,” Seth says. “Pop made him drink with him for a few hours.” He scratches his stomach absently. “Then we went to a bridge, and we all jumped off.” He shakes his head and jabs his fork at me. “Well, some of us jumped off. Some of us got shoved.” I can imagine Sam and Pete and their shenanigans.
“You jumped off Five Mile Bridge?”
“If that’s what it’s called,” he says. “It wasn’t nearly five miles long, though. So maybe not.”
“Did Pop jump?”
Seth laughs. “Right after he shoved Jake in, yes.”
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes. Jake came up sputtering mad! It was great.” He laughs about it a little more.
I lean over to kiss him, but he stops to wipe his mouth first. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” he warns.
“I don’t care,” I say, and I press my lips to his. “So, I got my letter from my dad,” I say. He blinks at me.
I hand it to him, and he smiles, opens it, and looks up at me when he realizes the significance of the drawing. “So great,” he says. He turns it over to look at the back. “We should frame it and put it on the wall.”
I nod. I pull out the other letter. “There’s more. But it’s not just for me. It’s for both of us.” I hand it to him, my hands a little unsteady. He takes the letter from me and unfolds it slowly.
“Are you sure you want me to read it?” he asks.
I sit down as close to him as I can get, and I look over his shoulder as he starts to read.
“Read it out loud,” I say.
Dear Gabby and the person lucky enough to marry her,
There’s one thing that’s really important for the new husband to know. I’ve always been the most important man in Gabby’s life. Until today. That all stops today. Today, you become the person who will wipe her tears, celebrate her victories, and get all her laughter.
Her mother and I love her more than we can stand sometimes. Our only hope for her has always been that she will find someone who is smart, funny, and kind. Lucky for you, she’s marrying you before she finds him.
I have a few tips for you. You can take them as warnings or as well-wishes. Your opinion of what I have to say will say a lot about you.
1. When you’re wrong, admit it. When you’re right, just shut up.
2. Wives don’t typically start arguments with their husbands if they’re already cleaning.
3. The five minutes it takes to read this letter are probably going to be the only time today that Gabby’s mom hasn’t meticulously planned. Pretend to read it twice so you can get a few extra minutes.
4. If you can’t say something nice, be prepared for the results.
5. Don’t marry her unless you’re prepared to suffer with her. Marriage isn’t always great. Sometimes, there’s suffering and pain. If you’re not prepared to suffer with her, you’re not the right one.
6. Count your blessings daily. If there’s ever a day when Gabby’s not on that list, fix it. Immediately.
Gabby told me when she was four that she was going to be a doctor. Don’t get in her way. If you try, she’ll drop you like a hot potato, and I’m sure you’re great, so save yourself the trouble.
I trust my daughter’s intuition because she’s brilliant. So, go be smart, funny, and kind to her. Forever.
With all my heart,
The father of the bride
Seth grabs me and holds me close as I get snot all over his shirt. He doesn’t say anything. He just rubs my back until it’s better. And it does get better.
“Do you want some cereal?” he finally asks.
“Yes, please,” I reply.
He sets me to the side, gets up, and pours me a bowl. He doesn’t say anything about the letter. He showed me the list his mom wrote for him a few weeks ago, before graduation. It contained the few items he’d already shared with me, along with a few more that really were some of the reasons I fell in love with him.
The doorknob jiggles, and Pop walks in through the back door. Mom and Jake are right behind him. He’s wearing a “Pop of the bride” pair of pajamas, and Jake’s say “Jake of the bride.” I couldn’t put the word father on his because it just didn’t feel right. He’s so much more.
Seth nudges me. “Are you going to ask him?” he whispers.
I nod and take a deep breath.
“Hey, Jake,” I say.
“Hey, Gabby,” he tosses back. He grins at me. “What’s up?” He looks from me to Seth and back. “Is everything okay?”
I nod, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. Mom stands next to the stove, and her eyes fill with tears because I shared with her what I was going to ask Jake, just to be sure it was okay.
Jake looks from me to Mom and back. “What did I miss?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“So, I was thinking,” I say slowly.
“What? No…” Pop teases.
I glare at him. He pretends to zip his mouth shut. His eyes are glimmering, too.
“So, I was wondering, Jake… It’s a long way down the aisle. I mean, it’s at least, like, twenty-five feet. And I am afraid I might get lost on the way, so I was hoping you might walk with me. Maybe let me hold your arm.” I try to bite back a wince of anticipation, but it’s hard. “I’m just a little scared to do it all by myself.”
My voice doesn’t crack until the last word, when I see Jake blinking back tears. He lays a hand on his chest and gulps. “You want me to walk with you?” he asks.
“Well, yeah,” I say. “That’s what dads do, right?” My voice finally breaks.
He nods, and a tear finally streaks down his cheek. He dashes it away with his hand.
“Well, if you insist,” he says. But he walks toward me and pulls me into a hug. I bury my face in his chest. “I probably wouldn’t walk you to anyone else, you know,” he says. “But I’ll be sure you make it down the aisle to this guy.” He reaches out a hand to shake with Seth, and Seth pumps it gratefully. Jake sets me back from him and kisses my head. “Thank you for asking,” he says.
Mom looks down at her watch and says, “Gabby, it’s time to get dressed.”
I grab my picture and my letter and go back to my room, where I tuck them into a drawer for safekeeping.
Two hours later, we’re ready. Jake meets me at the end of the aisle, and he grins and sticks out his elbow. “Never been so proud,” he says.
The wind tickles my face as my hair blows, and I brush it back. I can see Seth standing, wearing tan linen pants and a button-down shirt. Matt stands behind him, and he claps a hand on Seth’s shoulder and squeezes it when Seth sees me. Seth covers the hand with his, looks down like he’s taking a breath, and then he looks up.
Jake tucks my hand inside his elbow, and we walk toward Seth, who is beaming. He’s standing in front of an altar that Pop made, and it’s covered with climbing, flowered vines. Lake Fisher is the backdrop, and it couldn’t be more perfect.
Seth’s mouth falls open when he sees me. And I know that this is just the beginning.
“God, you took my breath away,” Seth says as he takes my hand in front of the altar.
“Same,” I say, and we turn to face the officiant in front of all our friends and family.