26. Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Cassidy
Inever thought I’d find myself in a coffee shop in a floor-length, olive colored gown. The satin material looks way too upscale for the number of customers seated around the shop on Oaklawn.
And they’re definitely staring at me.
I opted for soft waves, half of my hair pinned away from my face, but loose strands have already worked themselves free. It is a farm wedding, anyway.
When it’s my turn to order, I smile awkwardly at the barista in an attempt to soften the fact that I’m ordering six drinks and a homemade poptart.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “My friend is getting married in a few hours, and I was sent on a mid-day coffee run.”
“That’s exciting.” The barista, a tattooed man with wire-framed glasses and a full beard, turns the tablet in my direction. Once I’m guilted into providing a twenty-five percent tip on a coffee order, I take the pop tart from his outstretched hand and stand off to the side.
Today has felt… normal.
I haven’t been struck by the wave of sadness that tormented me last week. I’ve spent time laughing and getting ready with Ellis, Lennon, and Ellis’s aunt, Beatrice.
It’s strange to know that Ellis and Griffin are about to get married, and Gus won’t be there.
I close my eyes, pressing my nails into my palms until crescents form. I shouldn’t have started thinking about this.
But if someday down the line, I’m standing beneath the willow for my own wedding, there will be a hole there—a missing piece.
I take a deep breath, gathering the two drink carriers when our order is finally finished, and drive in silence.
Autumn is threatening to take over the last days of summer. Just a few days, and we will be fully into September. A month of Gus missing.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, glancing in the passenger’s seat to find all the drinks are upright. These drinks will be delivered in pristine condition if it’s the last thing I do.
When I pull into the driveway on the farm, forty-five minutes left to go until the ceremony, I find Wesley standing at the bottom of the hill leading to the house.
His shoulders fill out the tux in a way that should be illegal. If the public catches wind of this, he will be in every magazine spread across the country. Hell, across the entire globe.
I step out of the car, rounding to the passenger side to gather up the six cups of coffee. Well, one cup of tea for Lennon since she asked for chai.
“You look beautiful.”
When I stand, Wes takes one of the carriers from me, honeyed eyes roving over my shoulders, the thin straps of the gown running to a scooped neckline with drapey fabric. “Thank you,” I say, the crinkles at his eyes rewarding me.
He steals a kiss before we walk together to the farmhouse.
Griffin and the guys took over my house at the end of the drive—not that it’ll be mine much longer.
I’ve spent so much time at the farmhouse, it seemed time to offer up the other to Rosemary, for as long as she needs.
Despite the conversation Wes rehashed for me a few weeks ago, she hasn’t said anything.
Her plans to stick it out and remain at Miller Run haven’t changed—not yet, that is.
The screen door slams, and Ellis rushes into the kitchen. “Oh my god, you’re here!” she says before stopping in her tracks. “And Wes!” her voice cracks on his name—sounding strained. Her smile falls. Her flannel and shorts combo has me giggling. Clearly, she isn’t ready.
“I’m leaving,” Wes says, setting the drinks on the counter. “Just wanted to provide some extra hands for the coffee.”
“Thank you.” Ellis spins Wes around, ushering him out the door. I laugh, watching him shrug and disappear into the yard.
“Thank God, you’re here,” Ellis says, finding her coffee order and taking a long drag.
“Lennon went off to check the setup, get Noah and Griffin, and run around like a full wedding planner, but I’m not even in my dress yet.
Aunt B is helping Lennon, too, so it’s you and me.
Me and you.” She laughs nervously. “I’m not really sure. Point is, I need help.”
I salute her. “You got it, Boss. This is my place of employment after all.”
We find our way to Roe’s old room. The guest room has a sloped ceiling near the old metal-framed bed.
A quilt lies over the mattress, one rustic dresser in the corner with a few of her belongings.
We hid the boxes at my house a few days ago, but it didn’t seem like she had very many possessions to begin with.
A life of moving around, she’d said as an answer.
Ellis slowly pulls the dress up over her hips, and I help get the straps over her shoulders. The sleek dress looks just as beautiful as the day she tried it on last month. Maybe even more beautiful.
Her cheeks are tinted a soft pink, makeup simple and dewy. She’d talked about the makeup all week, veering away from a matte look since it would be dewy the moment she set foot outside anyway.
I slowly work the zipper at the back, and set to work on the buttons. “You’re the most beautiful bride,” I say before glancing up in the floor-length mirror. Ellis’s eyes are lined with tears, and she reaches for the dresser, plucking a tissue from the box on top.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, dabbing the tissue below her eyes. When she looks up, trying to keep the tears from falling and ruining the makeup, I find myself pulled into grief with her.
“It’s silly, really. You just lost Gus, and I’m over here crying about my mom.”
“On your wedding day,” I say, rounding her to place my hands on both her shoulders. “That’s reasonable.”
Ellis chuckles. “I’m so very happy,” she says, dabbing her nose. “I really, really am. It’s just—”
“An undercurrent of sadness,” I answer. I look up, swiping at my own tears with a manicured finger.
“An undercurrent of sadness.” Ellis sniffles, and I give in to grab a tissue from the box, too.
“The longer time goes by, the more I see the empty spaces my mom was supposed to fill. Even if B did everything exactly right, there would always be holes. Holes in my life—pieces that were taken so early.”
“I understand.”
And I do.
It’s not the conversation we should be having mere hours before her wedding. Or maybe it is.
“My parents have never been—great,” I confess. It’s more than I’ve shared with my friends before, but it seems fitting. “I always thought Gus would walk me down the aisle, and now there’s just no one. It’s just me, now. And I feel so alone despite being surrounded by so many amazing friends.”
“I was thirteen,” Ellis says, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. “I was thirteen, and I still feel like that sometimes.”
I dab my eyes, careful of the makeup I worked so hard on, and draw her in for a hug. “If there is an afterlife,” I say, “I’m sure she sees you right now and believes you’re the most beautiful bride to ever exist.”
We stand there, our sorrow binding us for one quiet moment. It’s like an invisible thread tying us together.
When we pull back, that thread is still there. It’s the realization that someone went through something so similar and understands—and we will both be okay.
Ellis sighs, smoothing her dress down at her hips. “Bittersweet,” she says.
And I nod.
Because nothing has ever felt so true.
“And now…” Griffin’s dad pauses, a wide smile on his face—like he spent his whole life preparing to officiate this wedding.
And maybe he had, considering he had the licensing for it.
“Son,” he says, looking at Griffin. “You may kiss your bride.”
Cheers erupt from the grass, the willow tree rustling with the wind around us as if it were joining in the excitement.
The procession starts, faces blurring around me until I spot Megan somewhere at the back. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling softly.
She’d been asked to come as Gus’s plus one, and following his death, I’d encouraged her to still attend. I’m not sure what kind of support system she has, but I’ll be here if she needs it—someone to rely on. It’s the least I can do to repay all those around me who’ve helped me through.
“You’re here,” I mouth, and her smile widens.
When I pass her, I don’t miss her, “Wouldn’t miss it.”
The reception takes place on the other side of the hill, just past the house, close to the barn. Chairs and tables litter the yard, complete with wine bottles filled with wildflowers. Before we move to the reception, we all gather for photos.
I drag Wesley into it, making him an honorary part of this small wedding party at Ellis and Griffin’s encouragement.
When we are finished with photos, I’m certain my stomach feels hollow, that earlier coffee doing absolutely nothing to satiate me. We feast on pasta and salad, courtesy of Griffin’s mother, and mingle with guests across the yard.
It’s a small wedding—but so fitting for the two of them.
Golden light floats over the farm, horses galloping in the distance as the music plays.
We lucked out with the weather and were able to have the reception in one of the unused fields just beyond the pond.
There was a contingency plan, but we weren’t sure how to deal with the sand in the indoor arena.
Grass and a small dance floor seem to work much better.
“May I have this dance?”
Wesley appears by my chair, his hand outstretched as the music slows. I take his hand, following him onto the dance floor to join other couples.
Ellis stares at Griffin, her eyes never wavering.
Lennon and Noah look as if they’re in their own world, too.
I grip Wes’s biceps as his hands circle my waist. “Went off without a hitch,” he says.
Running a hand through his hair, I chuckle. “Technically, there was a hitch since they got hitched, you know. Also, I am finding it hard to believe you haven’t put a hat on all day.”
Wes leans in, nipping at my ear before he says, “I’ll have you know I snuck off periodically to put the cowboy hat on. It is such a staple.”
“Except you don’t have any cows here.”
He shakes his head, his smile placing those small crinkles around his eyes. “No cows.”
I tap his lip, looking at the mustache he kept. “I’m glad you didn’t shave this,” I say. “I was worried.”
“Darling, until the day you go back on what you said before, the world may never see my upper lip.”
He pulls me closer as we sway to the music, and I laugh—the kind pulled from deep in my belly. A laugh I didn’t know I would see again. “Then all is as it should be,” I answer.
I look around at the glowing lights across the back porch of the house, the horses grazing off in the distance.
Six months ago, I’d been a different person.
Trapped in a job at the bar and still ignoring unwanted calls from my ex, I’d been aching for something I could keep for myself—a place to call home.
And it is here that I’ve found it.
Surrounded by acres of grass and forest, silent each night beneath a blanket of stars, I’ve found room to stretch and grow into a person I’ve wanted to be.
And while I don’t know for sure where we go when we die, I like to believe that in one way or another, we return to the Earth.
That Gus is here in the whisper of the wind, woven into the soil beneath our feet.
But if none of that turns out to be true, he’s still here regardless—if only in the memories we carry.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of home.
When Wes smiles again, his eyes soften with his voice. “Correct,” he says. “All really is as it should be”