Chapter 33 Hello, Young Man
Hello, Young Man
Eric
The string quartet is on their hundredth round of “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” and I’m almost out of programs.
It’s five minutes to three in the afternoon on Saturday, and the wedding chapel is nearly full. I’ve been ushering guests to their seats for an hour already. But my date hasn’t arrived at the chapel yet. Where could she be?
“Hello, young man,” says my next guest. She’s an elderly lady who must be less than five feet tall, even with her feathered hat. “Is there room for another?”
“Of course,” I say, offering my arm. “Where would you like to sit?”
“Up front, where I can see the kiss. Sometimes it’s just a peck. But sometimes he really lays one on her. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
I hold back my smile. “I haven’t been to that many weddings,” I admit as we head down the aisle at a very slow pace. “Are you a big fan?”
“Who isn’t?” she asks. “I’ve been to forty-seven weddings in my eighty-one years, and let me tell you something—they’re all different, but they’re all exactly the same.
The bride always thinks she’s the first woman to fall in love, and the groom always looks like he might faint or bolt.
The women cry, the men look too warm in their suits, and somebody always gets too drunk at the reception.
I love every minute. All those slow songs after the meal is served. ”
“Looking forward to those,” I admit.
“Of course you are.” She pauses to catch her breath, patting my arm.
“It will be grand, even if we all know that half of all marriages end in divorce. But today, nobody cares. That’s the magic of it, isn’t it?
All these people gathering to watch two fools promise impossible things to each other, out loud, in front of God.
Some people would call it foolish, but I call it brave.
Commitment takes courage. It’s worth getting dressed up for. Even in these hose.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s some deep thinking, and it deserves a good seat.” I walk her all the way up to the front and put her in the last spot we’ve reserved for close family. “Enjoy the show.”
“Oh, I will.” She gives me a wink as she seats herself. “No ring on you, yet?”
“Nope. But you never know.”
“I’ll light a candle for you.”
I’m still smiling when I return to the back of the chapel, even though there’s no sign of Darcy yet. There’s only Tessa, who scowls at me before striding off, her high heels clicking importantly on the wood floor, her clipboard clutched to her chest.
Ever since her snit on the beach, she’s been giving both me and Darcy the silent treatment.
We’re taking it as a win. All the family drama has exhausted us.
Last night Darcy and I snuck out of the rehearsal dinner early, just like she’d suggested.
We put on our bathing suits and relaxed in the hot tub together, unpacking the day.
It made us drowsy, though, so we went upstairs and fell into bed together.
I woke up spooned around her, which gave me big ideas, which I promptly shared with her in the suite’s luxurious shower.
Then we ordered room service and didn’t leave our hotel floor until I came downstairs in my tux to escort wedding guests to their seats.
It’s hard to believe we have to check out of that room and drive back to New York tomorrow. I’m not ready.
I’m gazing out the window, thinking about this, when my father pokes me in the arm. “That Tessa person says we’re about to start. You should take a seat.”
“Right. Okay.” A glance at my watch tells me the wedding is supposed to start in one minute. I step past my dad and look out the front doors just in time to see Darcy finally step inside the vestibule.
Tessa reaches her first. “Way to be late!”
“Sorry,” she says, sounding breathless. Then she turns to catch my gaze and smiles.
That smile stops me in my tracks. Not to mention her dress.
It’s green—the same color as my favorite bikini—and it hugs her curves in all the right places.
The neckline shows just enough skin to make my mouth go dry, and her hair is swept up so I can see the freckles on her shoulders that I’ve been mapping with my tongue.
“Wow,” I breathe. “You look…” I trail off, because there aren’t adequate words. Elegant? Perfect? Way out of my league? I gather myself and take her arm. “Looks like we’re sitting in the back. All the good seats are taken.”
“Anywhere,” she whispers. “Just as long as I get to sit next to you.”
We end up in a crowded row near the back, pressed side by side. This is it. The grand finale of the Wedding Experience.
I take Darcy’s hand in mine and stroke a thumb across her palm. There has to be some way I can see more of her after this weekend, right? I’m heading out west for some preseason training soon. But then I’ll be back. We only live a few blocks from each other.
We can make this work.