Chapter 41
Elsie
“Oh my god, you look gorgeous,” I gush, rushing back into the room where Olivia, Grace and Gail have been getting primped and prepped all morning.
I’ve been popping in and out, alternating between my job as a florist and my duty as co-maid of honor.
To say I’m frazzled would be putting it lightly, but I’m trying not to let it show.
I don’t want Olivia to worry that she made the wrong decision by hiring me to do her flowers.
In the time I was gone to set up table centerpieces for the reception, Petra, the makeup artist Olivia hired, worked her magic on my best friend.
Mile-long lashes frame eyes the brightest shade of blue, which pop more than usual in her perfectly made-up face.
Her blonde locks fall in loose waves around her shoulders, with half pulled back and secured with a clip that looks like delicate flowers tucked into her hair.
She’s still wearing her silk robe, but she’s added a simple necklace with a teardrop diamond and matching earrings.
She’s beyond stunning. There’s not a word in the English language that encapsulates how beautiful, how otherworldly she looks – and she’s not even wearing her dress yet.
“You don’t think the makeup is too much?” Olivia worries her bottom lip as she examines her reflection in the mirror.
“Absolutely not,” Grace tells her at the same time Petra insists, “No way. And quit doing that to your lip.” Olivia gives her a sheepish grin.
“You want your eyes to pop in photos,” Grace reminds her. “You’re stunning. Don’t change a thing.”
She’s equally stunning, of course. She’s a pro at doing her own makeup, but Olivia convinced her to enjoy getting pampered with the rest of us today.
Her eyelashes are always dramatic, long and dark and sweeping against her cheeks when she blinks, and today is no exception.
She’s wearing a dusty pink lipstick instead of her usual bold color, which looks gorgeous with the shimmery blush she has on.
Gail, who’s currently busy making sure the vendors all arrive and make it to the appropriate areas, looks just as beautiful. I passed her on my way upstairs.
“Your turn,” Petra tells me, wagging a tube of mascara in my direction. She gestures to the chair Olivia just vacated and I sit, trying to ignore the anxiety churning in my gut.
Noah and I have been up since long before the sun rose, putting finishing touches on bouquets, setting up table arrangements and making sure there are flowers everywhere they’re supposed to be.
The pièce de résistance is the flower arch that Olivia and Cam will get married in front of.
It’s full of gorgeous white roses and baby blue wisteria that hangs delicately. It’s dreamy, it’s romantic.
It was a bitch to put together.
While Petra sets to work on my face, I relax into my seat with my eyes closed and appreciate the fact that I have a few minutes to just sit and do nothing.
I don’t regret saying yes to doing the wedding flowers, but it’s been hectic trying to get everything done and also find time to get ready to stand next to my best friend as she says “I do.” I’m exhausted and probably sweatier than a maid of honor should be, but I can’t wait for Olivia to see what Noah and I have come up with.
I only half-listen to the conversations around me as Petra covers my skin in product after product that will hopefully cover the eye bags I’ve been sporting this week. It’s not until I hear Declan’s name that my attention is piqued.
“What do you think?” Grace asks, and I can only assume she’s talking to me.
“Sorry, what were you guys saying?”
“Do you think Declan is going to say yes to Sean?” Olivia asks through what sounds like a mouthful of food. Cam had her favorite lunch delivered for all of us – a Caesar wrap, extra crispy fries and raspberry sparkling lemonade. All from Captain’s, obviously.
“I think he’s going to say yes,” Grace says confidently.
“You really think so?” Shortly after we arrived this morning, I had filled Grace and Olivia in on the conversation I had with Declan last night. The fact that he didn’t immediately accept Sean’s offer has me on edge. Especially when there’s still a job offer in New York on the table.
“What do you think?” Olivia asks again.
I hesitate before answering. Do I think Declan is going to say yes? I know that I want him to. God, I want him to plant permanent roots here so badly. I want to hand my heart over with the knowledge that he’s not going to take off and run with it, or leave it behind when he goes.
I don’t know if I can fully give him that last piece of me until I know he isn’t going anywhere. I don’t want to fall victim to geography once again. I want to love someone who will stay. Someone who will choose me.
“I really don’t know,” I finally say. “I hope he does, obviously.”
My admission is met with silence. I peek one eye open and watch in the mirror as Olivia and Grace, who are sitting side-by-side on the small sofa behind us, exchange a look.
“Eyes closed,” Petra scolds. I obey and she continues swiping some kind of shimmery powder across my eyelids.
“Honey,” Olivia says gently. “You know that even if he turns down Sean’s offer, that doesn’t automatically mean he’s going to take off, right?”
No, I don’t know that.
I don’t respond, but my friends know me well. They both get up from the couch and come over to where I’m sitting. Someone rests their hand on my shoulder, but I’m too afraid of getting scolded by Petra again to peek and see who it is.
“I think that man is in love with you,” Olivia says gently, like she’s afraid she’s going to spook me. I try to keep my pulse under control with sheer will, but it’s a lost cause; my heart starts thump thumping at the idea.
“I know that man is in love with you,” Grace chimes in. “It’s been written all over his face for months. He’s been down bad since day one.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll stay,” I say quietly. “Love isn’t always enough.”
My friends are quiet for a moment, probably exchanging another look.
“Nathan sucked,” Grace says bluntly, and I’m happy to learn that I don’t flinch anymore at the mention of my ex.
It’s been a long time since we’ve talked about my last – and only – failed relationship.
“He strung you along for years knowing he had no intention of staying in Port Myles, thinking so highly of himself that he assumed you’d change your mind and follow him when he left.
I know he fucked you up for a while there, but you can’t let what happened with him ruin the good thing you have now.
” I feel the weight of another hand settle on my shoulder.
“That’s not fair to Declan. Give him the chance to prove you wrong first.”
“He’s earned that, at least,” Olivia adds.
I know they’re right. I’m not being fair to Declan, projecting all my fears and insecurities and old hurts from the past onto him.
It would be different, I think, if he had turned down the job in New York.
He says he doesn’t plan to leave, but he’s left that door open for now, and I can’t help but worry that he’s going to use it.
“You’re right,” I finally say. Even if I know the reason for my worries and this self-destructive urge I have to call the whole thing off, I also know Declan doesn’t deserve it.
“We know,” my friends say in unison.
“Alright, enough about my love life. It’s Olivia’s wedding day.”
“It’s my wedding day!” She laughs, like she still can’t quite believe it. She and Grace return to their spots on the couch to finish their lunch, which I plan to scarf down the second Petra finishes working on my face.
“How are we even old enough to be getting married?” Grace wonders. “I still don’t even feel like an adult yet.”
“Same,” Olivia agrees. “I feel like a kid playing house. Like, who let me live with a man and become a whole wife? I’m just a girl.”
“You’re the most adult out of all of us,” I point out.
“Girl, you own a business,” Grace volleys back. “You two might be tied. Meanwhile, I’m over here barely qualifying as a grownup.”
“Not true,” Olivia disagrees. “You’re hustling with multiple jobs and have thousands of followers on social media. I know you hate the term, but you’re –”
“Do not say influencer,” Grace cuts in.
“An influencer,” Olivia finishes.
“Still doesn’t make me an adult,” Grace scoffs. “We’re deep into the twenty-first century. There are child influencers now. Do you know there are kids making millions of dollars unboxing their toys online?”
“Insane,” Petra chimes in.
“Truly,” I agree.
The conversation turns to a guessing game about who’s going to get the most drunk on the dance floor tonight (a tie between Ethan and Cam’s crazy uncle Eddie), and before we know it, our final hour to get ready is nearly up.
Though the jury remains out on whether we qualify as real adults, there’s no denying Olivia looks every bit the stunning bride who’s ready to marry the love of her life.
Her dress fits like it was handcrafted with her in mind, a gorgeous A-line with delicate straps and a low back that leaves her tanned skin on display.
The bottom layers of fabric are off-white so that the intricate, lace floral pattern in a classic ivory stands out and catches the eye.
It’s perfect for a summer wedding in the chapel of an inn on the coast of Maine.
“Cam is going to be thanking every lucky star, guardian angel and whatever deity he believes in when he sees you walking down that aisle,” Grace says approvingly.
We’re crowded in the floor-length mirror in the room where we’ve spent the majority of our day.
In just a few minutes, we’ll descend the stairs just outside this room that will take us to the entrance of the chapel, where Cam waits for his bride along with all of their family, friends and half of Port Myles.
“Good,” Olivia smiles. “Although I’m not sure who will be looking at me when I’ll have you two by my side.”
I scoff, though I sneak another look at Grace and I in the mirror, taking my eyes off our bride one last time.
I was skeptical when Olivia said she wanted orange for her maid of honor dresses, but I should have known better than to question the queen of planning on a single detail.
Our dresses are the same peachy, light orange color, but Olivia had us choose our own style.
Mine is comfortable and flowy, tight around the chest with light, off-the-shoulder sleeves.
Grace opted for a one-shoulder style that hugs her curves to her waist. We both have slits on one side.
Nothing scandalous, but enough to make walking down the aisle – and in Grace’s case, tearing up the dance floor – more comfortable.
Gail won’t be standing with us while Olivia and Cam exchange vows, but Olivia helped her pick out a dress that complements ours in a pretty shade of light blue. Again, I should have known better than to question Olivia – the blue and orange look lovely together, just as she assured me they would.
“Are you ready?” Gail asks, popping her head through the doorway. When she sees the three of us huddled together in front of the mirror, she smiles. Even from across the room, I can see the way her eyes well with tears. “My girls,” she says softly.
Olivia meets my eyes in the mirror, then Grace’s.
There aren’t words to explain this feeling, standing at your best friend’s side as she’s about to walk down the aisle to take a leap from this chapter of her life into the next one.
The one where she’s a wife and partner, and someday a mother, if all goes according to their plans.
A wedding is just an interlude, the part that comes before all of the momentous years to come – the good times and bad, the tiny feet padding down the hall, the weathered skin and the hair that’s graying in sync, a sign of a life well lived together.
Olivia will look back on today as one of the best days of her life, but I know that Cam will do his best to ensure that there are so many more best days to come.
“I love you,” Grace whispers from Olivia’s other side, her voice wobbling in a rare show of emotion. I watch in the mirror as she slips her hand into Olivia’s, and I do the same with her other one.
“I love you both,” Olivia says, her voice strong and sure.
She squeezes our hands as she meets our eyes in the mirror again.
“Thank you for being by my side today, through all of the years before this, and all of the years to come. I’m lucky enough to have three soulmates in this life, and I don’t take that for granted. ”
“Love you back,” I tell her. “Always.”
With one last, final look in the mirror, Olivia lets go of our hands and takes a step toward the door.
“I’m ready,” she tells her mom. “Let’s go make me a wife.”