Chapter Thirty-Three #2
Unlike the previous choice, this song wasn’t instantly recognizable to me.
In fact, for the first couple of beats, I thought I didn’t know it at all.
But then Ben began the chorus, and I realized: It was Dolly Parton.
About that light and the morning. Everything’s gonna be all right, it’s gonna be okay.
I’d heard it during all those hours of rushes, and in the stillness of the night as we sat together.
A single song, linking the secret and the known like our fingers, intertwined.
People were getting to their feet. As Anne passed by with Travis—in a tight tux, his eyes watery—beside her, I could feel her joy, as tangible as the scent of all the flowers around us. What a wonderous thing, to be completely who you are. All in.
“Please be seated,” the minister said. Everyone did, except for those of us in the back, including the wide and quite tall man in my eyeline, who had now been joined by an equally large woman.
I turned to Lana again, but she was gone.
A quick scan of what I could see revealed she’d moved to the bench beside Cardoon, who was now holding her hand. Both of them were flushed and smiling.
So much for the lone wolf. A pack is better anyway.
“We’re here today to celebrate two people making the decision to be together,” the minister began. “In doing so, they also bring us closer to each other.”
I could not see Anne. Jonathan or Ben, either. However, there was no missing the hummingbirds zipping across the top of the big front window, tiny sparks of color against the cloudless sky.
Anne said her vows, then Jonathan his. I knew they were kissing when the crowd began to cheer and clap. Then Ben began playing Dolly again, faster this time. When the bride and groom passed by, they had their own hands clasped overhead and were smiling.
There was a sudden shift of movement and energy as the assembled got to their feet and began to press into the hallway.
“I’m going to feed those birds,” Kasey said from behind me, making me jump. She had a pitcher, covered in foil, in her hands. “Before someone gets hurt.”
I looked over at the door, glimpsing Ben on his way out onto the porch. Another chance, gone. But what was I going to do, run after him in front of everyone?
It wasn’t long before the house had emptied. I looked over at the living room, still and quiet, the chairs lined up in rows. Like the way Anne had arranged the dollhouse. No people, though. Except for me.
Then I heard the door. The sound was so familiar now. A moment later, my mom appeared in the kitchen, face flushed. I watched as she scanned the living room. Finally, she spotted me where I stood on the threshold between the kitchen and porch.
“There you are,” she said. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I was worried.”
So she’d come back. To look for me. To find me. I remembered all those times of missing her when I was young, the palpable emptiness. Now it was filled. Not with just her, and far from a perfect fit. But I could feel the difference.
“I’m okay,” I told her. “I… I just need to do something.”
With that, I quickly moved past her, down the hall to push open the door.
Outside, people were heading to the dock in groups, their wedding wear bright against the grass.
But I was looking for Ben. Finally, I saw him in the driveway, his back to me.
At the same time, I felt something whizz past my head: a hummingbird, red throated, soaring.
Warrior or ancestor, maybe both, showing me the way.
Down those steps where my family had gathered. Across the grass the water had overtaken during the hurricane. Beyond where my mom and I had pulled up that first day.
Distantly, a boat was puttering by. Summer, going on as always.
“Ben!” I called out. A couple in front of me turned at my voice: In the next beat, I could feel the attention on me grow. It doesn’t count unless you do it in the light. Here, it was brighter than ever.
And I could see it, finally. The change in me.
It was in the arc of my arm as I’d thrown my phone over the water.
That rush all around when I’d reached out to answer the Egg’s phone.
Tumbling out the window, walking up to the dock, everything leading to this moment right now, as I ran to Ben, taking his wrists to turn him so we faced each other.
He looked at me, eyebrows raised. When I smiled, he slid his arms around my waist, lifting me up. Then we were kissing, the voices of the celebrants rising over us like music.
Later, I’d remember so much about that day.
Especially when I looked at the porch picture that was taken before leaving for the Tides and the reception.
We’d gathered on the steps: the sisters, me and Lana, Travis, Jonathan and Anne, Clark and Ben.
Jeremy, Geralin, and Cardoon had squeezed in.
All of us, together. Even without the photo, I knew I would carry it always.
For now, though, all I could focus on was me and Ben, finally out where all could see.
Maybe how we’d gotten there was awkward.
But then, some of the best things are. It’s just part of it.
Now that we were here, though, I just wanted to be fully present for whatever came next.
All. Nothing. And everything in between.