Chapter 19
It was finally the day of the wedding.
Wren sat on the side of the bed, staring into their closet, mindlessly stroking a dozing Ferdie in her lap. A flustered Arthur had run out at the last minute to buy a new shirt. He’d had a bit of a Bridezilla moment before he left.
“I wish we had more time. God, nothing FITS!” he’d said before storming off. Wren found it endlessly entertaining.
And now she was alone, the apartment dead quiet. She stared into the sea of clothes hanging in front of her. Somewhere in there was a floral maternity dress that might just work well enough. But the thought of standing up and wading through everything else to find it was completely overwhelming.
She’d taken the engagement ring out of her bag and sat twirling the box round and round in her fingers, knowing exactly what to do.
For her, the deal had been sealed at the Mad Cow Creamery.
Arthur had grown, and changed, in amazing ways.
But she had changed, too, and that’s what mattered most of all.
She wasn’t scared anymore, of the baby, of commitment, of whatever tomorrow might bring, even if it hurt.
Arthur had shown her that he really knew her, inside and out.
He knew what she valued in life and, even though he was fundamentally different from her in so many ways, he respected that.
He’d shown that he would always come through, and even push himself beyond his own comfort zone, to help her find happiness and joy. Even in the little things.
For that, she was going to find a way to get Arthur alone in Shark Alley. And she was going to propose to him.
But before then, she had some time to kill. He wouldn’t be back for a little while, and the wedding didn’t start for several hours.
Her eyes began to drift over the beige, lifeless walls.
Over the bassinet and the stacks of books and baby toys.
Then to the carpet (also beige) and the blinds (off-white).
The two go bags packed and stacked on the floor.
Her mind flicked over the checklists and blog posts.
Technically, they had everything they needed if the baby were to arrive at this exact instant. But still there was something missing.
She needed her paints. Returning to the closet, she dug them out from behind a power adapter for an HP laptop that she didn’t remember ever owning. Most looked dried out and crusted over, but a few colors were still salvageable.
It would be enough.
When Arthur returned, Wren was almost finished. He walked into their bedroom and strutted confidently.
“I’m just warning you,” he said, “you are definitely going to want to bone me when you see how well this shirt fits.”
Arthur stopped in his tracks when he noticed what she had done.
Wren sat on a tarp of kitchen trash bags, surrounded by squirts of paint on paper plates.
“Do you like it?”
He took it all in. She watched as his eyes tracked the streaks of yellow and pink, the swirls of light blue, all of it taking over the main wall of their bedroom.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. Then, leaning down and whispering: “What is it?”
“It’s a sunrise.”
“A sunrise, of course.”
She was rusty, but still proud of it. If only the baby had needed a snappy, brand-friendly logo whipped up in Photoshop! She would have crushed it. But this was good, too. She was sure of it.
“That’s the sun there, and the clouds. It’s coming up over rolling hills. It’s a little abstract, I know.”
“No,” he assured her, “it’s incredible. I can’t remember the last time I saw you paint something. Almost forgot how talented you are. Now I remember. Why a sunrise?”
“Because this room needed something,” she said flatly. “And because…I wanted to always be reminded that tomorrow is always coming, and it is beautiful.”
“And what if we don’t stay here? What if they have to come paint over it one day?”
She shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever. But that’s OK.”
“Hey,” he said, offering his hands and helping her off the ground. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Can you put the bassinet back? I want to see how it looks.”
He walked across the room to where Wren had stashed it and slid it up against the wall, perfectly centered on the mural. It made a world of difference. Things felt right now. The room was warm, colorful. The type of welcome to the world that a baby deserved.
“Now,” she said, “you almost ready to go?”
They brought the go bags just in case.
Though the reception would be at the National Aquarium, the ceremony itself was held at a quaint little church in the city without much parking.
They were almost late as Arthur tried to negotiate parallel parking between a couple of hulking pickup trucks, trying desperately to not block the fire hydrant that was stationed right there.
“I can get out and help guide you,” she’d said.
“I’ve got it, just relax,” he said, putting a hand on the back of her headrest and craning his neck to see backward, even palming the wheel as he spun it round. He was becoming such a dad already.
Once inside, Wren only got a quick, prison-length visitation with Charlie before the ceremony was set to begin.
“You look so beautiful,” she told her friend, standing outside the claustrophobic little dressing room the church referred to as a bridal suite. It smelled like hair spray and warm mimosas.
“So do you. I really wish you could be up with the rest of the bridal party, but it would ruin the photos.”
“Thanks! Appreciate it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know,” Wren said. “Wrong dress and everything.”
“And you’re the size of a manatee.”
“I would slug you right in your perfect face if I wasn’t afraid I’d topple over.”
Wren kissed her on her cheek and sent Charlie on her way, the comically long white dress dragging behind her.
She knew she’d see Charlie again in a few minutes, and then at the reception after.
But something would definitely be different between them when she did.
Tonight was the end of an unofficial era, an era that started with two single best friends in college having debauched misadventures together.
Even when they settled down with Arthur and Tristan, respectively, it still felt like Wren and Charlie’s world.
The boys were on an extended probationary period to determine if they’d be allowed in.
With Charlie tying the knot, and Wren waiting for the right moment to give Arthur his own ring back, the club would be permanently expanding.
Wren and Arthur sat and watched the wedding party walk down the aisle to the soundtrack of some pop country song Wren couldn’t quite place, wedding-ed up with violins and harps.
The ceremony was held in the church’s back garden, lined with rosebushes and beautifully trimmed hedges. The sun was just beginning to dip, giving the light a soft, warm quality that Wren knew would be harnessed into incredible photographs. It was a desktop background come to life.
But…it was hot as hell.
Arthur leaned over. “You doing OK?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You just look a little…dewy, that’s all. If you’re not up for this, just say the word and we can leave.”
Wren wiped at her forehead. Pretty sweaty. That early fall sun was blasting her directly in the face on its way to making the perfect picturesque sunset.
“Gonna take more than that to take me down. I’ve gathered here today to witness some holy matrimony and I’m not leaving until I get it.”
“Roger that.”
The bridal music hit, everyone stood, and here was Charlie, looking flawless and genuinely overjoyed.
Her dad, a stoic man who’d never said anything to Wren that wasn’t related to the weather, was in pieces as he walked her down the aisle.
His lip trembled as he held back sobs and tried to keep his chin up.
He was just a fraction of a step behind, giving the illusion that he was pulling her backward.
Don’t go. Charlie dragged him along nonetheless.
When Charlie finally reached the front, she quickly found Wren in the crowd.
Am I good? her face seemed to ask. Wren gave her a thumbs up.
It made her heart flutter, her insides all gooey, that in this, one of the biggest moments of Charlie’s life, surrounded by all her best friends and family, she looked first to Wren for support.
They were gonna be OK, the two of them.
“Welcome, y’all. Y’all be seated,” the officiant—Tristan and Charlie’s friend Malcolm—announced.
Malcolm was thin and stylish and had secured his officiant license online a few weeks prior.
“Y’all are gathered here today…” Tristan cleared his throat.
“Sorry, I know I’m saying ‘y’all’ too much. Guess I’m just nervous.”
A small chuckle from the crowd.
“We are gathered to celebrate the love of Tristan and Charlie, two of my closest friends, and living proof that a one-night stand can lead to a lifetime of happiness.”
A bigger laugh. Charlie’s mouth hung open in faux shock.
“I’m serious,” Malcom went on. “I know we were all shocked that their second date was something as wholesome as ice cream in the park when their first date had been in the club bathroom. Sorry, Dad.” The officiant offered an apologetic look to Charlie’s father in the front row, red-faced but smiling.
“But, I believe that these two were destined to find each other, somehow, some way, and that their love is one of the purest and most joyful you’ll ever see up close.
“But anyway,” Malcolm stammered. “I asked Charlie what her thoughts were on the ceremony. And she told me, ‘Short and sweet. I want to be married to that man yesterday.’ So let’s move it along, shall we?”
Some applause. A few people in the back whooped. Malcolm turned to Tristan. “Take it away, hubby.”
Tristan took Charlie’s hands, looked deep into her eyes.