Chapter 62
Erica
One Year Later
As I sit in front of the vintage wooden vanity at the center of the room, touching up my lipstick, my mother approaches holding my veil.
It’s white and delicate in her hands, the bottom of it grazing the carpeted floor of the hotel room, the embroidered beaded flowers catching the light as it moves.
I give her a smile through the mirror, placing my lipstick on the table.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” she says softly, her voice catching in her throat.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say.
I feel an overwhelming amount of gratitude for this moment, a rare one with her.
Our relationship hasn’t always been easy, mostly due to my father and her need to stand by him in all of his decisions and cold mood swings toward his children growing up.
But here with my mother, I can feel all of the love and endearment radiating from her on this special day. My wedding day.
I can’t believe the day is here. After months of planning, I finally get to marry Marco.
I would have married him the day he proposed, but he insisted on waiting a little while, so Josie could get used to him growing into our family.
He also insisted on giving me ample time to plan, saying he wanted it to be everything I wanted.
I only lasted a few months, insisting I didn’t care about a perfect wedding.
I just wanted to marry him. My wedding was something I never really dreamed about, neither was becoming a mother.
Yet now I have a two-year-old daughter and I’m in the back room of a church putting on the finishing touches before walking down the aisle.
It’s funny how life changes so quickly. How I changed.
We chose a church in the heart of Manhattan, the city that’s close to our hearts.
The city we met. The city that’s home. We decidedly unanimously on a church that stood out from the bustling, modern city around it, standing tall in its stone and stained glass and surrounded by trees.
I fell in love as soon as I saw it. Marco, too.
The rest came easy, choosing white roses and peonies to line the pews, while letting the architecture of the church to tell its story.
I smell the flowers now as my bouquet sits on the tabletop of the vanity.
I touch the flowers softly, feeling the velvety petals between my fingers as I breathe them in.
“Mama,” says Josie excitedly as she walks through the door.
I turn in my chair to face her, my heart exploding when I see her running toward me in her white dress and flower crown. I hold out my hands and scoop her up right as she gets to me.
“How’s my flower girl?” I ask, giving her a kiss on her forehead.
“Mama a princess!” she exclaims, touching my hair that drapes over my shoulders in loose waves.
“So are you!”
“There you are!” says Beth, coming through the door, followed by Sadie and then Monica.
The three of them look beautiful in their silk, blush bridesmaid dresses. I smile as I picture them being the three fairies doting on the young princess that’s my daughter.
“Thanks for looking after her,” I say.
“Oh, Erica,” says Beth, her hands raised to her mouth. “You look beautiful.”
I can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s on the verge of crying.
“Stand up, stand up,” says Monica excitedly.
I do as she says, gently placing Josie on the floor. I grip her hand as we both do a slow turn.
“You make the most beautiful bride,” says Sadie, and I’m surprised by the tears welling in her eyes.
“Thanks for being here on my big day,” I say.
“We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” says Beth.
While Monica guides Josie to one of the plush armchairs to adjust her flower crown, I look between my two best friends who stand hand in hand looking at me.
I never would have gotten through everything without them.
They deserve the world. I remember the crazy story they told me at Josie’s birthday party, and remind myself to catch up with them about what’s going on at the reception later.
“It’s almost time,” says my mother, touching my arm gently and gesturing to my veil that’s draped over her arm.
I look at her, and it’s as if I’m just now seeing her age.
She’s beautiful, but she’s getting older.
I’m so grateful to have her here. My father too, who will be here any minute to walk me down the aisle.
Despite our somewhat estranged relationship, we’ve gotten closer in recent months, when I let go of the secrets.
I nod and turn my back toward her. As she places the veil at the crown of my head, I smooth my hands down the front of my white dress, its lace and beading tickling my fingertips as they graze the fabric.
I love this dress. I can’t wait to see Marco’s face when he sees me in it. The thought makes my heart flutter.
I hear someone clear their throat in the doorway and I see my father standing behind me in the reflection of the mirror.
He looks visibly choked up as he takes in the view of me standing in a wedding dress.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry, and it’s taking everything in me not to let my own tears fall.
I slowly turn to face him, while the rest of the women in the room slip past him, taking Josie with them, giving us this moment.
“Hey, Dad,” I whisper.
“Wow,” he says with a shake of his head.
“Can you believe this?” I laugh softly.
“It hasn’t hit me yet.”
I give him a weak smile, carefully taking the bouquet from the vanity and walking toward him. He takes my free hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m so happy to be here with you,” he says.
I hold my hand up to his face, the wrinkles deeper as my palm settles around him.
“Thanks, Dad.”
We look at each other like that for a moment, embracing the silence and love in this moment. A rare one for us. Whatever my usual feelings toward my father are, they dissipate here in this room. For today.
“We should get going.” He clears his throat.
I nod and link my arms in his. We walk down the hallway toward the double doors leading into the church.
I know just on the other side stands Marco at the end of the aisle.
I’m so eager to get to him, yet want time to slow down so I don’t forget any of this.
I hear the organ playing the familiar wedding march, and I can picture my bridesmaids walking gracefully down the aisle, followed by Josie with her basket of flowers.
My heart lurches toward the doors, wishing I could witness it, but I know there will be photos.
The one thing I took my time in was finding a photographer who would capture everything beautifully to forever have these memories.
I hear the organ fade quietly to silence before playing again, giving me my cue.
I take a deep breath as the doors slowly open.
The inside of the church comes into view as my father and I fall into a slow step.
In my peripherals I see the flowers lining the aisle and the pews filled with people turning their heads, but my focus is at the other end, on the man standing patiently waiting.
I feel a single tear fall down my cheek without warning as I take in the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life.
Marco stands in a black tux, a weepy smile on his face as his brown eyes watch me approach.
Josie stands next to him, her hand clutching his tightly.
I feel like every fiber of my being is beaming at them.
My whole world is waiting at the end of the aisle, but it’s also here with me, too.
Josie’s brother or sister is here, too, unbeknownst to everyone but Marco.
I found out just yesterday that I was pregnant.
After having a funny feeling in my gut, we waited patiently in our bathroom for the stick to tell us what our future might hold.
When it came up positive, Marco pulled me close.
We were both shaking as we clutched each other.
“This is the best wedding present I could have ever imagined,” he said.
I have to agree. This wedding symbolizes so much more than our union as a couple, but our family’s union. As I look at him waiting patiently, my knees feel weak at the love that’s radiating from him. Not only for me, but for our daughter, and our unborn baby.
This moment doesn’t even feel real, but as he shakes my father’s hand before taking my own in his, his warmth and love surrounding me with his simple touch, I realize it’s real.
All of it. I smile up at him as he wipes my tears from my face before wiping his own away.
He leads me carefully up the steps where we stand holding each other’s hands, about to promise each other forever.
Before the priest begins his spiel, we both look out at the people who line the pews.
Most are watching with loving smiles on their faces, while a few are weepy and clutching tissues.
Everyone we love is in this room, from family to friends to co-workers from the paper, who unknowingly witnessed our love story being written. My heart feels so full.
We chose for our friends and families to sit together, rather than be separated. Our union is their union. Our family, theirs. After too much time holding onto a secret, I didn’t want any more lies separating all of us. Our truth might have been messy, but it’s ours, and it led to this.
I see Marco’s mother sitting in the front row, next to my parents.
She became an instant mother to me, and through getting to know her, I see why Marco is the way he is because of her.
She’s a wonderful person with one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever witnessed, and a loving grandmother to Josie.
She embraced us both without hesitation, even after everything.
I give her a fond smile and she gives a sentimental nod.
I look past Marco to where my brother stands looking handsome in his tux.
He gives me a reassuring wink, and my heart swells.
I’m so happy to have him back in my life like he used to be, as my best friend.
He doesn’t know how much he played a part in making this happen by telling me to let Marco back in my life, in Josie’s life.
It’s why he stands up here as one of Marco’s groomsmen.
I look back at Marco and see his eyes are on me. He doesn’t have to say a thing for me to feel his love. It radiates from him. I want to pinch myself to convince myself that it’s real, and if sensing my doubt of reality, he nods to answer my question. It’s real.
Hearing “I do” fall from his perfect lips will forever play in my head as a beautiful song, and as I repeat the words back to him, I mean them with every part of me.
I will love this man forever, for everything he is to me and for being the father of my children.
As he pulls me in for a kiss, my body feels like it’s flowing into his as we become one, the sound of cheers and claps filling the church and providing the soundtrack to our happy ending.
THE END