Chapter 4 You Had Me At Cockadoodle Doo
YOU HAD ME AT COCKADOODLE DOO
TRIXIE
Ipeeked out the crack in the tent, trying to see what was happening, but Ciara had set up the bridal tent down the hill from the festivities where nosy grooms couldn’t catch a peek at their brides.
Never mind what he had already peeked this morning, and would hopefully peek a few more times tonight.
I couldn’t wait to see him at the altar.
Jules had left a few minutes ago to get Luke, while the rest of my bridesmaids, Kelsey, Willa, Penny, and Mina, and my matron of honor Lulu drank champagne and nibbled on snacks. The girls looked amazing in 1950s-style dresses in different colors to match my bouquet.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that tent,” Lulu said, coming up beside me with two glasses of champagne. She handed me one. “Drink. You look like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin.”
“I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” I took a sip. Then a longer one. “Okay, I’m a little nervous.”
“You’re marrying your best friend, Trix. The guy who’s been in love with you since we were ten years old.” She clinked her glass against mine. “This is the easy part.”
She was right. Lulu was always right. It was annoying, in the best kind of way.
I felt like Audrey Hepburn in my ballerina-length dress, a Rose Vond original that made me want to twirl every time I caught my reflection.
I was definitely glad we had decided to go in this direction instead of worrying about a fancier dress with a train getting dragged around a barnyard.
Ciara Mosley-Willingham was a matrimonial genius.
I felt better every time I thought about her being our wedding planner.
Speaking of Ciara, she walked into the tent with her assistant Wes, both holding their tablets, and announced that there were seven minutes till showtime.
“Okay, ladies, snack time is over. Everybody choose a buddy, check your teeth. Any food stuck? No. Lipstick intact? Great. Check the girls. Are they properly strapped in and have their tray tables in the upright position? Great. We will have no nip slips at the altar. If you need toothpicks, dress tape, breath mints, or extra deodorant, Wes here has you covered.”
Wes opened the flaps of his jacket like he was trying to sell us watches, revealing pockets containing all the aforementioned items.
Jules came in at that moment with Luke, and Ciara demanded she smile before stepping closer to check her out. “Good. Teeth and dress look great.”
“Always,” Jules replied. “Trixie, Chris wants you to check your cell phone before it starts.”
“Ladies, line up like we practiced. Jules, you and the demon chicken right before the bride.” Ciara reached up to her earpiece and announced, “We are go for father of the bride.”
I walked over to the table that held the antique purse Nana Kingman had given me from her own wedding, my something old, and took out my cell phone.
Chris
I’m adding a little something to my vows, hope you love it. Can’t wait to see you up there.
I know I will because I love you.
I didn’t know if he would see that before the wedding, but I was curious what he wanted to add to the vows we had written together.
“You ready, kiddo?”
I looked up to find my dad standing there in his suit, eyes already suspiciously shiny. He’d been crying on and off since breakfast. My dad was a secret softie, always had been.
“You look beautiful, Beatrix,” he said, his voice a little rough.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I took his arm and squeezed. “Don’t you dare make me cry before I get down the aisle.”
“No promises.”
As we got closer to the new barn, I could hear the string quartet playing the processional music for the bridesmaids, and my stomach exploded into nervous flutters.
This was really happening. After almost twenty years of friendship.
After a summer of pretending we were just fake dating.
After all the time we’d wasted being scared to admit our real feelings to each other, or even ourselves.
This was really, finally happening.
Pink, purple, and blue flowers were everywhere, draped over the barn entrance, lining the aisle, bursting from arrangements on every surface. It was exactly as Ciara had described it to me. I was pretty sure it was witchcraft.
The music changed to “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys, which we had chosen because it had been his parents’ wedding song.
The song, along with a bouquet of deep pink April Love roses in the empty chair next to Bridger, had been our way of honoring the wonderful woman who should have been here today.
I couldn’t possibly have known when we were ten, that I would only have a few more years with April Kingman. That one day I would marry her son, and she wouldn’t be there to see it. That I would love her whole family like my own, and miss her like a second mother.
I gripped my dad’s arm tighter and turned the last corner.
The crowd rose to their feet, a sea of smiling faces turning toward me.
I caught glimpses of people I loved, Nana Kingman dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, Coach beaming beside her.
My mom in the front row, hand pressed to her heart.
Sara Jayne and Mac, who had been like family to the Kingmans for as long as I could remember.
But I only had eyes for him.
Chris stood at the altar with a smile so bright he could have lit the stadium for the Big Bowl game.
His brothers flanked him in a row of broad shoulders and matching suits.
Hayes stood right beside him, then Declan, Everett in his officiant position, and the twins and Isak filling out the line.
A wall of Kingman men, all of them watching me with varying degrees of emotion.
Flynn was already crying. Gryff was pretending he wasn’t.
I floated down the aisle toward Chris, my dad’s steady arm the only thing keeping me grounded. Every step felt like a dream. The music swelled around us, and I could see Chris’s chest rising and falling like he was trying to keep it together.
At the end of the aisle, my father stopped. He lifted my hand and placed it gently into Chris’s, then leaned in close.
“Take care of my little girl,” he said.
“Always,” Chris replied, with so much sincerity that I felt tears prick my eyes. “I promise, sir.”
My dad nodded, satisfied, and stepped back to take his seat beside my mom. I saw him reach for her hand immediately.
“Chickadee,” Chris whispered, squeezing my fingers. “If you start crying, so will I, so let’s save those for later.”
“Too late,” I whispered back. “Flynn’s already a mess.”
“Flynn cries at insurance commercials.”
I laughed, and some of the nervous tension melted away. This was Chris. My Chris. My best friend. I could do this.
Everett, who after declaring himself the only person qualified to perform the marriage had gotten ordained on the internet as the leader of the Temple of the Guru of Love, cleared his throat and began.
“Family and friends, we are gathered here today to finally celebrate the marriage of my brother Christopher Bridger Kingman to Beatrix Andromeda Moore, the girl next door and the love of his life. This has been a big year for love in the Kingman family, and I fancy myself a bit of an expert on the subject, especially when it comes to these two. I was there when it all began, and while I may be older and taller now...”
Everett paused and looked at me with a little waggle of his eyebrows. I heard a few chuckles from the crowd.
“It was plain to see from the very beginning that these two were meant to be together. But like the love stories Trixie reads, writes, and adores so much, they decided their trope was going to be a slow burn, while the rest of us were forced to watch them circle around each other for years like her beloved chickens.”
He grinned. “But like any good friends-to-lovers tale, they finally decided to see what had been right in front of them the whole time and inspire more love stories. And speaking of inspiration, I would like to welcome my future sister-in-law Kelsey to sing a song she wrote for the happy couple.”
This had been a happy surprise for both of us when Kelsey mentioned it at our rehearsal dinner. But when the world’s biggest pop star is your future sister-in-law and tells you she wrote a song for you, you find a way to make room for it at your wedding.
“This song is called ‘The Girl Next Door,’” Kelsey said as she stepped up to the mic with an acoustic guitar.
While she began to perform the beautiful tune she had played for us the other night, about young love developing into something more, Chris whispered in my ear. “You look amazing.”
“So do you,” I whispered back.
“Oh, this old thing?” He indicated his white tuxedo jacket. “Just had it lying around. Thought I would throw it on today.”
I laughed softly, and we listened to the rest of the song. When Kelsey finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. She gave me a wink as she returned to her spot beside Declan.
Everett invited Hayes to hand him the rings, and Hayes untied the boxes from Luke Skycocker’s Roostermobile.
Hayes stepped forward with the kind of quiet reverence that was so perfectly Hayes and placed the rings in Everett’s hand.
Behind him, Luke was surprisingly calm. Jules must have given him another talking-to.
“And now Chris and Trixie will recite the vows they have written themselves.”
Chris held my hands and looked deep into my eyes. I could feel his fingers trembling slightly, and it made me love him even more.
“Today, in front of our friends and family, I, Christopher, choose you, Beatrix, to be my wife. I choose you today, and I will keep choosing you every day that comes. I choose you to walk through this life beside me, to be my partner, to be the mother of my children. I choose to support you, always and without fail. Together we will grow and guide our family no matter what comes our way, in season, off season, and through every season of our lives.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger.