Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Jason
The girls’ casita looks like a hurricane of clothes and cosmetics hit it. The hanger holding Kelsey’s gown is hooked over the open door of the wardrobe and a drift of tulle that must be her veil is draped over the back of a chair near the doors to the balcony.
Kelsey is on the bed in a white satin robe, propped up by six or seven pillows, her hair wrapped around fat curlers, a pair of crescent-shaped gel patches pasted under her eyes.
Her maid of honor is on the matching chair to the one the veil is draped over, scrolling on her phone.
She looks up when I enter and rolls her eyes in Kelsey’s direction, then shrugs her shoulders. “I tried,” she mouths silently.
I smile at her and mouth back, “She’ll be fine.” In a normal voice, I say, “Wanna give us a couple of minutes, Greta?”
She nods, gathers her dress in one hand, her phone in the other, and slides the balcony door open. “Just let me know when you want me to help you get into your dress, Kels.” She slides the door closed behind her and settles into a chair out there, facing the valley.
“Hey, Dad,” Kelsey says without opening her eyes.
“Hey, sweetie. Adrienne says you’re having a bit of a moment?”
“I wish Mom were here.” Her voice cracks and a couple of tears slip from under her eyelids, over the gel patches.
I sit down on the side of the bed. “I do, too, hon. Your mom wanted to be here so much.” I pull an envelope from my suit pocket and hand it to Kelsey. “She wanted me to give you this on your wedding day.”
Kelsey opens her eyes and sits up. When she pulls out the letter I watched Leah write a couple of weeks before she died, my own eyes well up.
I blink the tears away while Kelsey reads the letter silently to herself. I don’t know what Leah wrote—it’s not my business—but whatever it is makes Kelsey smile through the tears that are now dripping down her face. When she reaches the end, she holds the letter to her chest and closes her eyes.
I get up and fetch a box of tissues, then return to the bed and place them within Kelsey’s reach.
She blindly pulls one from the box, wipes her eyes, and blows her nose.
A few more rounds of this and she calms enough to open her eyes and I hand her a small velvet jewelry box I take from my suit pocket.
When she cracks it open, she looks up and gives me a watery smile. “Are these…?”
“Mom’s and my wedding rings,” I confirm. “For something old. Also for something borrowed, because I want mine back. I thought you could tie them to your bouquet or something like that. Your dress is new, and your sapphire ring counts as something blue, right?”
Kelsey kneels up and throws her arms around me. I hug her back.
After a few moments, I pat her back. “So, you’re all set, then. Ready to get married, sweetie?”
She nods. When she lets go, I slip off the bed and go to tap on the balcony window. Greta turns around and I motion her to come in and help Kelsey dress. I leave the girls to it and step outside the cabin. There’s a quiet brrzz to my left and I look in that direction.
A hummingbird hovers in the air a few feet from me.
Costa Rica has over fifty species of hummingbirds and I’ve seen green hermit, green-crowned brilliant, violet sabrewing, coppery-headed emerald, fiery-throated, and rufous-tailed hummingbirds while we’ve been here.
But this one is a ruby-throated hummingbird, the first I’ve seen here.
It’s also the only hummingbird species that lives on the east coast of the United States.
The hummingbird zips back and forth in front of me and then pauses in midair, wings beating so fast they’re a gray blur.
Leah used to hang hummingbird feeders in the backyard of our Brooklyn brownstone.
I gaze at the tiny bird and admire its iridescent green feathers.
This bird’s throat is white rather than red, and its tail is rounded, with white tips, which means it’s a female.
“Your daughter turned out pretty great, Leah,” I whisper. “And she’s going to be fine. We’re both doing fine.”
The hummingbird darts back and forth a couple more times, then flies off and disappears into the surrounding rainforest. I wipe a tear from my cheek and settle in a wooden lounger on the cabin’s front deck to wait for Kelsey.
When the door opens, I get to my feet. Greta exits first and fusses around, adjusting the drape of Kelsey’s veil and tucking a couple of stray strands of hair back.
Her movements distract me from getting a good look at Kelsey, so when she finally moves out of the way, it’s all I can do to keep my jaw from hitting the ground.
“Oh, Kelsey, you look beautiful.”
Her dress is an ivory tea-length gown, the sheer overlay embroidered with flowers, birds, and leaves, in blues, pinks, and greens.
A thin sash the same color as the jackets Adrienne, Victor, and I are wearing belts her waist. Her veil, strewn with tiny pearls, is pinned just underneath an upswept tumble of blonde curls and falls to her fingertips.
Her white sandals have a bit of a platform to them and a wide, stacked heel, more practical for the earthen aisle she’ll be walking down.
She’s holding a small bouquet of orchids and I can see her mother’s and my wedding rings on a fine gold chain tucked in among the flowers.
We take a few steps toward each other and I kiss her cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup. Then I tuck her hand under my elbow and we follow Greta down the path to where the ceremony will be held.
We reach the beginning of the path leading to the gazebo where Adrienne and Victor are waiting.
I shoot Victor a text to let him know we’re ready.
It’s rained at some point most of the days we’ve been here—even the dry season in a tropical rainforest being only so dry—but this morning is clear and bright, with a soft breeze that gently lifts Kelsey’s veil.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down to see Victor’s response to my text. “Victor’s about to start the music,” I tell the girls. Greta gives a last fluff to Kelsey’s veil and steps in front of us.
Another moment and Pachelbel’s Canon in D starts, broadcast through speakers hidden in the trees along the path to the gazebo. Greta smoothes the skirt of her dress with one hand, looks over her shoulder at us, and grins at Kelsey. “Ready?”
Kelsey grins back. “Let’s do it.”
Greta steps out on the path, which the resort’s wedding coordinator has strewn with flower petals. I wait until she rounds the big tree that’s shielding us from the guests’ view, count to five, then Kelsey and I step forward.
This is it. My little girl is about to get married.
At the end of the path, under a small gazebo festooned with fairy lights and flower petals, Adrienne waits next to Victor. The light shining from Adrienne’s face when she sees Kelsey for the first time is blinding and feels a little like an intrusion to look at.
I shift my gaze to Victor. He’s wearing a rainbow stole draped over his shoulders, with the alpha and omega symbols embroidered in gold thread and gold tassels dangling from the stole’s ends.
His eyes meet mine and it almost feels like I’m walking down the aisle to him, rather than walking my daughter down the aisle to meet her beloved.
Silas and Logan, Kelsey’s college friends, and a couple other friends of Adrienne’s are gathered in a semi-circle on either side of the aisle. We reach the gazebo and climb the couple of steps, then stop in front of Victor and Adrienne. I turn to Kelsey. “I love you, sweetie.”
She smiles at me. “I love you, too, Dad.” I kiss her cheek, take her hand from under my elbow, and reach for Adrienne’s hand. I place Kelsey’s hand in Adrienne’s, lean forward, and kiss Adrienne’s cheek, too. Then I step back and take a place next to Logan.