Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“ Y ou look beautiful.”
Frances took her ivory wedding bouquet from my hands, her smile wobbly.
We had dressed in a side room down the hall from the sanctuary at the In Between Community Church.
I wished James could’ve have been there to marry Frances and Joey.
I wished James could’ve been there just to talk to.
I had spoken to him via the computer days ago, updating him on the Thrifty Co.
buyout, but he’d had little to say other than, “I’m sorry.
” When I’d pushed about an appeal, he’d gone silent, the answer in his apologetic face.
“We’ll talk about it when I get home,” he’d said.
But I knew there was no hope in our family taking on the company by ourselves.
I had to push that out of my mind. Because today one of my best friends was getting married.
“The dress is perfect,” I said, earning a beaming smile from Frances’s mother.
Frances turned to a large mirror we’d brought in and looked at the bride staring back at her.
“My parents pushed their cultures on me so hard all my life, and I wanted to be like the other kids in In Between—all American. But I’m not.
I’m a blend of two amazing families and histories.
It feels right to wear my mother’s dress.
” The fitted red dress showed off Frances’s willowy curves, and the bold colored threadwork complemented the regal peacock pattern.
“I’m proud of where we come from,” Frances said.
I had no idea why, but tears sprang to my eyes. I had been a weepy mess in the last few days, and today was only going to offer more tearful opportunities.
“I’m my Chinese mother’s daughter.” Looking like a member of royalty, Frances held her chin high. “My Mexican father’s first born.” She gave a watery grin. “And Katie Parker’s best friend.” Not caring about wrinkles, Frances hugged me fiercely. “Thank you. Thank you for always loving me for me.”
I choked back a sob. “Oh, Frances. You were my first friend here. The one who didn’t care that I dressed like the bride of Dracula and spewed venom on anyone who tried to be nice to me. You changed my life.”
Frances clasped my hands in hers. “The Valiant might be destroyed, but they’ll never steal your memories.
Thrifty Co. can’t take away how that theater healed you or what it meant to your parents—to all of us.
The Valiant will always live in you. It’s not about the building.
You’re the Valiant, Katie.” She squeezed our hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Be valiant. Live its legacy.”
I shook my head, pressing my lips together to hold back the flood. “I don’t think I can.”
“You’ve got this. God brought you to us, to the Valiant all those years ago, knowing it would lead to this time in your life.
The building might be destroyed, but what you put into it, what you gave to it never will be.
I think the Valiant was just a starting point.
Not just for you to turn your life around as a kid.
But even now. You have the chance to turn it around again.
” She hugged me again. “I believe in you. I believe in you, Katie Parker.”
The makeup would have to be reapplied. I was wrecked. It was all just too much. Frances’s words, Charlie, my beloved theater being taken away forever, my best friend moving on in her life with a husband. All of it. God, I can’t do this. It’s too hard.
“Promise me you won’t be one of those girls who gets married and leaves her old friends behind,” I said. “I need you in my life. ”
She nodded and swiped the dampness from her cheeks with white tipped nails. “Nothing can separate us.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Frances’s dad peeked his dark head inside. Wonder filled his face at the sight of his beautiful daughter. Gone were the braids and pencils stuck in her hair. Gone were the Disney princess t-shirts and funny patterned socks.
She was ready to walk down the aisle to the rest of her life. Leaving behind the last remains of childhood.
I envied Frances for knowing what she wanted and who she wanted to experience it with.
“Mi vida.” Mr. Vega tenderly held his daughter’s face in his hands and kissed both cheeks. “You look so beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you.” She sniffed.
“It’s time to go, mija,” he said. “Your moment is here.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
He then spoke soft words to his daughter in Spanish, bringing more tears from both Frances and her mother. Frances nodded and grabbed a nearby tissue, blowing indelicately. I didn’t know what he said, but just the way he said it had me nearly undone.
“Let’s have a family prayer for Frances,” Mr. Vega said.
I turned around, wanting to give them their time and busying myself with touching up my makeup.
“Katie.” Mr. Vega held out his open hand. “We’re waiting for you.”
Oh, my word. How I loved these people.
“You are family.” Mrs. Vega grabbed my hand and placed it over Frances’s. “My sweet girls.”
We bowed our heads, and Mr. Vega prayed for Frances and Joey, for God to bless them with many years and happy days. For health and wisdom and love.
“Amen.” Mr. Vega gave his daughter her last kiss as a single woman. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
The parents filed out, and I could hear the strains of an acoustic guitar.
I slipped my feet into my high heels, and Frances and I exited the room and walked across the lobby to stand just outside the doors of the sanctuary.
Charlie stood there, regal in his light gray three-piece suit and pink tie, like something out of a magazine.
His parents stood beside him, and his little sister held a basket of rose petals, wearing a pink lacy dress.
“You look amazing,” Charlie said to me.
A wintery frost settled into my voice. “Thank you.”
The guitarist began the first notes of Frances’s favorite love song, and Mr. Vega offered her his arm.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Frances looked straight ahead. Nodded.
Mrs. Benson took the arm of the first usher, a high school friend of Joey’s, as her husband followed them down the aisle. Another usher soon came for a beaming Mrs. Vega.
Sadie Benson went next, throwing petals and grinning like a future beauty queen.
Charlie gently took my hand and draped it over his forearm. Even through the layers of his suit, I could feel the warmth, the energy that only belonged to him.
The ushers opened the double doors again.
“This is us,” Charlie said.
This is us.
Charlie and I slowly walked, following the path of coral petals. I tried to imagine myself taking this long walk as a bride. Ian had offered me the opportunity. But when I thought about who might be waiting for me at the front of the church, there was only one face I saw.
Charlie Benson’s.
I smiled at some old high school friends and fellow church members.
Sam and Maxine occupied the tenth row, and when we passed, my grandma looked Charlie up and down then gave me a discreet thumbs-up.
Finally, we reached the altar, and Charlie’s fingers slid over mine as he lifted my hand from his, and we took our places on opposite sides of the associate pastor.
Joey and his brother hugged, bringing an unbidden smile to my lips.
The guitarist broke into the wedding march, and dresses swooshed as everyone stood to their feet for the bride.
Frances glided down the aisle, her father smiling, but losing his battle against tears.
I stole a glance at Joey, and my heart expanded in my chest .
His face said it all.
He loved her.
This man of few words loved her. Not a fawning, game-playing adoration that I’d witnessed in Ian, but an awe-struck, I’m-drunk-at-how-much-I-adore-you love. Joey’s expression held joy and rapture, like he was seeing her for the first time. The same expression he would wear sixty years from now.
“Wait.”
The room froze at that one word from the bride.
Oh, no.
Frances stood mid-aisle, her feet immobile, as if captured in cement. Her father spoke feverishly in her ear, but Frances just shook her head, her updo bobbing.
No.
Oh, no, no, no.
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I. . .I don’t think I can do this.”
A collective gasp nearly lifted the rafters.
“Frances?” Joey took a step toward his bride.
“No, please.” She held up her hands to hold him off. “We rushed this. It’s not right.” And then the most horrid of horribles happened.
Because Frances Vega trained those dark brown eyes on her maid of honor.
“Joey and I have made a colossal mistake.” She picked up the hem of her dress, a woman ready to run. “And Katie was right all along.”
With that, Frances broke from her father’s arms and sprinted as hard has her heels would allow, right out of the sanctuary.