42. Annette #2
For one perfect song, the rest of the world quietly fades away. And I realize that my favorite memory of our wedding won't be the vows or the photographs, or even the beautiful ring sparkling on my hand. It will be this. The first dance with my husband.
In that moment I truly understand that forever doesn't begin with a promise.
It begins with the quiet decision to keep choosing each other, one ordinary day at a time.
***
The applause that follows our first dance slowly fades as dinner begins, but the warmth of Jamie's hand remains wrapped around mine.
Someone insists we sit long enough to eat.
Someone else insists we need another photograph before dessert.
Liam insists the cake should be sampled immediately "for quality control."
No one gives his suggestion the consideration that he clearly believes it deserves.
For a little while, everything settles into the comfortable rhythm that seems unique to small-town celebrations.
Conversations overlap from one table to the next.
Coffee is poured. Children weave happily between chairs while grandparents pretend not to notice the extra cookies disappearing from the dessert table.
I lean back for just a moment and simply watch. Not because I'm tired, but because I don't want to miss any of it.
Jamie's laugh catches my attention from across the table. Colby has apparently reached the dramatic conclusion of another story, complete with enthusiastic hand gestures that nearly sends his iced tea into Caleb's lap.
Caleb rescues the glass without looking up from his plate. "You know," he says calmly, "most adults use words."
"I am using words."
"You've added interpretive dance."
Liam nearly chokes on his dinner laughing.
***
Just then the side flap of the reception tent opens.
Toby steps inside wearing an expression that can only mean one thing.
He's planning something.
I exchange a glance with Jamie. He notices it too.
"Toby..."
"What?"
"I know that face."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You absolutely do."
"I absolutely don't."
Without another word, Toby slips both hands into the deep pockets of his tuxedo jacket.
When he pulls them out...the entire reception gasps.
Two tiny golden retriever puppies blink curiously at the room from the safety of his arms.
Each wears a satin ribbon tied neatly around its neck.
One pale blue.
One soft pink.
For a heartbeat the entire reception simply stares.
Then every child in the room squeals at exactly the same moment.
My hands fly to my mouth.
"Toby..."
He looks genuinely puzzled. "What?"
"Why are you carrying puppies?"
"I thought weddings needed more dogs."
Liam points toward him. "You know...I can't actually argue with that."
Laughter sweeps through the tent.
One tiny puppy stretches sleepily before yawning with such determination that his entire body wobbles.
"Oh..." I whisper. "They're adorable."
"I stopped by the rescue this morning," Toby explains.
"They needed someone to transport them to a foster family."
He looks down at the puppy in his arms before smiling at me. "I asked if I could borrow them for an hour first."
My eyes immediately fill with tears. "You borrowed puppies..."
"It seemed festive."
Jamie laughs beside me. "I can't believe that sentence makes perfect sense coming from you."
Toby grins. "I have a reputation to maintain."
He gently places the smaller puppy into my arms. Warm little paws immediately press against my dress as the puppy curls happily beneath my chin. Without thinking, I bury my face against impossibly soft fur.
The tiny heartbeat fluttering beneath my hand makes something inside me melt.
Jamie smiles at me with that wonderfully tender expression I've come to know so well.
"I think you've fallen in love again."
I look up. "I think I have."
"I was afraid of that."
***
The second puppy decides Jamie's tuxedo jacket is an excellent climbing wall and begins making determined progress toward his shoulder. Jamie laughs as tiny paws scramble determinedly across expensive fabric.
"So much for looking dignified."
"You looked dignified for almost five minutes," Liam says. "And for you, I'd call that a personal best."
Even Coach eventually kneels to scratch one floppy ear on the pink-bowed puppy now trying valiantly to walk through the grassy floor of the tent.
Becca catches him smiling. "I thought you weren't a dog person."
"I'm not." The puppy immediately rolls onto her back for a belly rub. Coach sighs in surrender.
"Apparently the dog has other ideas."
The laughter that follows drifts out across the lake, and I hold the sleepy puppy just a little closer.
Joy, I realize, rarely arrives in the way we expect.
Sometimes it wears a satin ribbon.
And sometimes it reminds us that the happiest moments of our lives are usually the ones we never planned.
***
By the time dinner plates have been cleared away and fresh coffee begins making its way around the tables, the reception settles into the comfortable hum of people who have no desire for the evening to end.
No one knows exactly where the puppies have ended up but occasionally a little fluff of yellow fur pops up next to someone’s cheek.
Clusters of conversation fill every corner of the tent. Children chase one another across the grass beyond the tent while the older guests linger over stories that seem to grow funnier with every retelling.
***
Somewhere near the dance floor, Liam taps a spoon against his water glass.
"All right," he announces. "Before dessert—and before I accidentally eat all of it—we have a couple of toasts."
Liam gestures toward Toby. "Our best man."
Toby looks genuinely surprised.
"It’s time?"
"You'll survive." More laughter.
Smiling, Toby rises and picks up his glass. Unlike Liam, he doesn't hurry to speak. He looks first at Jamie, then at me.
***
“I've known Jamie a long time. Long enough to know that if you need him, he'll show up before you finish asking.”
Toby looks at me.
“Then Annette showed up.”
He smiles. “I'll be honest. I thought she was going to quit after the first week.”
“I wasn't that bad,” Jamie mutters.
Every member of the team laughs.
“You really were.”
Toby waits for the laughter to fade.
“But she stayed. And somehow these two figured out what the rest of us already knew—they're better together.”
He raises his glass.
“May you always be the place the other one comes home to.
To Jamie and Annette.”
Everyone stands. "To Jamie and Annette."
The soft clink of glasses fills the tent.
I glance at my husband. He's blinking suspiciously fast. I smile and slip my hand into his beneath the table.
He squeezes it once.
He doesn't need to say a word.
Neither of us does.
***
Liam glances across the room.
"I believe the maid of honor has a few words."
Keisha groans dramatically.
"I specifically requested emotional immunity."
"Denied."
More laughter follows her as she stands, lifting her glass.
Unlike Toby, she doesn't look nervous. She looks at me, really looks at me.
"You all know Annette as the woman who somehow convinced the most stubborn hockey captain on the planet to follow doctor's orders."
Jamie quietly mutters, "Allegedly."
Another ripple of laughter moves through the room and Keisha smiles.
"I've known her for a long time."
She pauses. "I've known her through exams, impossible shifts, bad apartments, ramen dinners, and the kind of weeks where we weren't sure we'd make rent."
I laugh softly. Those days feel like another lifetime.
"Through all of it, she has remained exactly the same person."
Her voice grows gentler.
"She noticed the lonely people."
"She remembered birthdays."
"She stayed late."
"She made room for everyone."
She looks around the reception. "I wasn't surprised when this town fell in love with her."
I blink hard.
"I wasn't even surprised when Jamie fell in love with her."
Jamie reaches for my hand again.
"I was only surprised it took him so long."
The room erupts in laughter. Coach nods thoughtfully. "Fair."
Even Jamie laughs.
Keisha waits until the room quiets again. "The thing I admire most about Annette is that she never tries to be the center of the room. She quietly makes everyone else feel like they matter."
She looks toward Jamie. "I think that's why the two of you fit so perfectly. You both spend your lives lifting other people."
She smiles.
"My prayer is that for the rest of your lives you remember to lift each other, too."
She raises her glass.
“To my best friend and the man lucky enough to marry her.”
"To Jamie and Annette."
The room echoes the toast.
I can't stop the tears this time. Neither can Jamie. He intertwines his fingers with mine and gives my hand the gentlest squeeze.
***
A few minutes later someone wheels the wedding cake to the center of the tent.
It isn't enormous or elaborate. Three simple tiers decorated with fresh white flowers and tiny sprigs of greenery. Exactly what we'd wanted.