Chapter 33
JP, THE LEG TEARS guitarist, plays “Here Comes the Sun” on the acoustic guitar as Cooper and the groomsmen take their place at the front of the ceremony site, and a hush falls over the guests. Linney and I follow, along with Cara’s other bridesmaids, taking our spots in front of the gazebo.
Despite Mom redoing my face, I haven’t stopped crying—not really.
Tears still fall softly, slowly blurring the makeup all over again, and I realize it’s okay.
It’s okay not to look or be perfect right now.
If there’s ever a time to feel everything—the beauty of new beginnings and the passing of the baton from one generation to another—it’s at a wedding.
Especially a wedding like this. One that looks so much like the one I’ve always envisioned for myself.
We turn and position ourselves, watching as Anna Carol comes next, sashaying confidently and sprinkling flower petals down the aisle with a flourish.
“She was born for this,” Linney whispers as a few of the guests clap and give her big smiles.
“Wonder where she possibly got that from?” I whisper back. And through our tears, we both laugh a little.
Then the guitar song changes to “Make You Feel My Love,” and everyone swivels in their seats, gasping as Cara comes down the porch steps in the dress and the veil, looking for all the world like the happiest bride I’ve ever seen.
For as quickly as this wedding came together, so many of Cara and Cooper’s friends made the effort to be here, and we can all feel the energy of it. A breeze from the lake lifts the veil from her shoulders, and I realize instead of “something blue” in the stitches, it’s “something borrowed.”
Her dad kisses her cheek, whispering something in her ear that makes her smile, tears in both their eyes.
My own eyes find Nate on the other side of the aisle, amid the groomsmen. He’s crying, too, but also beaming in his sister’s direction.
The officiant, Linney’s husband, Graham, greets everyone and offers an opening prayer, and I tear my gaze away from Nate and pay attention to Graham’s moving words about marriage and family. Love is a leap of faith, he reminds us.
When it’s time for the vows, Cara goes first.
“Cooper.” Her voice is soft, but sure. “I love you. I love that when you love something, you go all in. You learn everything you possibly can. Like how your obsession with boats has turned you into a walking encyclopedia of nautical terms.” This gets plenty of chuckles from the assembled guests.
“I love how terrible your band name is—and how you love it anyway. How you’d do anything for those boys—” That gets a whoop from the members of the band.
“—because when you commit, you commit all the way. Though I’d be fine if I never have to listen to a fart track again in my lifetime. ”
The guests continue to laugh as Cooper protests with a “hey!” but his smile just widens.
Cara smiles back. “I love your sense of humor, and that you do things because you enjoy them—not because you’re perfect at them.
“That’s how I know I want to marry you,” Cara continues, “Because even when things aren’t perfect, you’ll be there with me to work toward better. I feel blessed to become a part of the circle of people Cooper Bennet loves.” Here she chokes up. “And to become a Bennet too.”
Graham hands her a ring, and she slips it on Cooper’s finger.
Now it’s Cooper’s turn. “Cara. It’s funny you should mention my band, because you know what I love about you?
Your beautiful but completely off-pitch singing voice.
And that you’ll still grab the karaoke mic and dominate the room anyway.
I love how close you are to your family, and I love the thoughtful way you bring a personal and caring touch to everything you do.
” As he says this, I think of Cara’s jewelry, how expressive it is of something so personal and important to her. No wonder she’s successful.
“I’m so grateful,” he goes on, “that you gave me a chance. Even though you knew we might have to deal with some crazy sh—” Graham clears his throat.
Cooper looks up at him. “Some crazy stuff,” he corrects.
“You were willing to take a chance on us. I can’t wait to keep taking chances with you, forever. I love you.”
Graham hands Cooper a ring, and Cara lets out a cross between a laugh and a cry as he puts it on her finger.
“I now pr—” but before Graham can pronounce them husband and wife, they kiss. A laugh rises up from the crowd as they pull apart, sheepish. “Pronounce you husband and wife,” Graham finishes.
Cooper leans in for another kiss and dips Cara to cries of delight.
THE SUN HAS JUST begun to set, the last rays sparkling off the water, the sky a glorious blend of fiery orange and pink blending up into lilac, and then, as if still clinging to the day, a wispy, serene blue.
A light breeze has picked up, rustling the willow trees that line the shore.
And though I’ve seen this view a million times before, I still feel as I’ve always felt on these long summer days that turn into nights: like I’m in heaven.
The band has already launched into their first set, and the music may not be worthy of a record deal, but it’s good enough to get people out on the dance floor. Normally, I love a dance at a wedding—especially a slow dance.
Today, I want anything but. My heart still feels so bruised, and one more glance at Nate in that crisp suit with that affable grin might send me into a puddle in front of all these people.
I walk away from the dance area and toward the makeshift bar, hoping for a spritz or something else light. Just as I’m approaching, a woman with a truly elaborate hat I’ve never seen before comes up to the bar.
“I’m sorry, you go ahead and order first,” I tell her. I’m certainly in no rush. Once I have something to hold onto, I plan to retreat somewhere less visible, though unfortunately the storage room is probably not an option.
“Nikki B.,” the woman says instead, turning away from the bar and toward me. “You’re even prettier in person, and I didn’t think that was possible!”
A fan.
I smile, but the tiredness of playing a role feels almost unbearable right now. “Thank you, that’s so kind,” I say politely. “And you are?”
“I’m Cara and Nate’s Aunt Maggie.”
Of course she is. It’s the aunt Nate told me about at lunch the other day. I should have known from the fabulous plumage atop her head. She leans in conspiratorially, her giant hat wagging slightly. “Aka their favorite aunt.”
Realizing now her connection to the Lancolm family, I look at her in a new light. “Oh wow. It’s really a pleasure to meet you,” I say, this time meaning it.
“Likewise! If I’m being honest, dear, I’m a little starstruck by you.”
I shrug. “I’m really just a normal girl like everyone else.”
“Oh, I know that. But that’s exactly why America loved you.
It always seemed like you were unapologetically yourself on television, and that was just so refreshing.
Like, even with all that pageant training I know you said you had, you still let the cracks show, and you know, there’s a famous quote about that, which I can’t recall exactly right now, but it goes something like, the cracks are where the light comes in.
And the light really shines with you, honey.
” She takes my hand. “I’m so excited we got to meet.
I can’t wait to tell the ladies at bridge. ”
I laugh a little. “Thank you. It’s actually—really nice to hear that. A nice reminder.”
She pats my hand. “Well, we all need to be reminded of things sometimes. I sure do. I can’t remember a damn thing these days.
Yesterday, I drove all the way to the grocery store, forgot what I needed, which was butter, and drove all the way home, only to find that I did have more butter in the freezer. ”
I chuckle. “Here, how about a spritz?” I say, taking one and handing her another.
“Mind if I interrupt?” says a voice.
I turn to see Nate standing beside us.
A flush of warmth moves through me, against my will. He’s shucked off the jacket that Cara forced him to keep on for the photos and ceremony, and his tie is long gone. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone and his sleeves are rolled; he looks even more devastating than he did earlier.
Nate nods at her. “If you don’t mind, Aunt Maggie, we have an unfinished handshake-related issue we need to discuss.”
His aunt laughs and happily wanders off to talk to Mr. Lancolm while Nate turns to me. “Aunt Maggie’s hats increase in size in direct proportion to her age. I’m a bit afraid that she’ll live to ninety only to be crushed by the weight of her own hat.”
I laugh, despite myself. “Maybe you can rig her some sort of hat support system.”
He taps his chin. “Now that’s interesting. I hadn’t thought of that.” Then, the merriment dancing in his eyes fades into something more sober. “Listen. Can we talk? Alone, maybe?”
My heart stutters. After the night before last, I don’t know if I can handle a talk, let alone being alone with him.
“How about in there?” I manage, and gesture at the gazebo.
He nods and we walk toward the gazebo steps in silence. Then he holds out a hand, like a gentleman, like he’s always done when I get out of the car or am getting up from the table, to help me up the shallow two steps.
As soon as I step underneath its lattice-dappled shade, I feel this sense of being swept into another era.
That old romantic feeling I always had as a kid comes back to me: when I’d stretch out on one of these benches and imagine being the star of an old movie or a fairy-tale princess.
But I was a kid then and knew nothing about how messy love can actually be.
Now, it’s strange—and beautiful—to enter the gazebo like this, as an adult, with Nate. I can see now why Meema had it built in the first place. It’s a way to be out here at the party and yet to feel like we’re the only people in the world.
“Wow. You really have done an amazing job.”
“I try to deliver on my promises.”