Twenty-five
Peter
“Knock, knock.” Bea called as her fist rapped the other side of the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and my sister rushed in, a smile on her face. The muted autumn-orange dress she wore beautifully complimented her warm features, and for the thousandth time I marveled at Sarah’s ability to make the entire wedding party flatter her red hair and brown freckles.
Bea shut the door behind her, letting her eyes wander across the sea of coat bags, shoe boxes, and men’s duffle bags strewn across the room. “Looks like Men’s Warehouse threw up in here.”
I chuckled at that, but the sound hardly came out, caught in my tight throat.
“They’re waiting on you,” she said.
I nodded, still unable to speak.
“How are you?” She asked, her tone knowing.
Feigning nonchalance, I leaned against the table behind me, startling when I tipped a bottle of hair spray over. That was probably Ben’s.
I managed the words, “I can’t breathe.”
Bea took a quiet, sharp breath. “Still having doubts?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m a little nervous for the reasons we talked about, but I’m excited.”
Bea’s shoulders fell with relief. “Good.”
About eight weeks ago, after my first seizure, I confided in Bea while she was in Texas, admitting I was having cold feet due to what happened. She encouraged me to stay steady.
My epilepsy diagnosis was so new, so fresh. We were only just now discovering how to live life navigating it. I had the one grand mal seizure and a handful of petit mal seizures until we got me on the right medication regimen. They seemed to have stopped. For now anyway.
But, we had to do things differently.
Like watch my sleep, nutrition, hydration, stress.
I wouldn’t be cleared to drive for another five months and any high-altitude or high-risk activities would be off the table for the foreseeable future until the doctor cleared me for that stuff.
We weren’t sure what my triggers were, so everything was trial and error, learning it all, being extra careful.
The anxiety had worn me down.
And Sarah, too, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
I almost postponed our cruise, but Sarah was so excited to go and so certain everything would be fine that I decided to press on. Plus, my neurologist told us to go have a great time.
Bea strode closer, the chiffon swishing around her legs as she walked.
Smiling up at me, she adjusted my tie. “Life has a funny way of meeting and dashing expectations with the same blow.” She smoothed the lapels of my coat.
“It can bring everything we ever wanted the way we never wanted. You and Sarah are meant to walk through all this, and somehow it’s exactly what you need, even if you can’t see that yet.
” Her eyes teared up a little. “You guys have always been perfect together, and you’re going to be so happy as husband and wife. ”
A swallow tugged at my throat. “Thank you, Bea. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She dabbed beneath her eyes with a knuckle, blinking. “She wants to see you.”
“Right now?” My head snapped up. “Before the ceremony?”
“Yep. She’s in the hallway.”
My heart thumped to life in my chest. “Is she wearing her dress?”
Bea giggled. “Considering you have to report to the front in ten minutes, she better be in her dress.”
“She’s okay with me seeing her? Early?”
Bea laughed again. “Yes, she’s okay with it. It was her idea.” She cracked up into the palm of her hand. “Your face is killing me. Do you want to see her or not?”
“Yeah.” My voice came breathless. “I do.”
“I’ll send her in.” Bea went to her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek then disappeared. With my heart in my throat, I waited for the door to open again, unwilling to take a breath until my eyes landed on her. And when they did…
My stomach fell out of my body.
Her dress was a champagne color with sheer lace sleeves and a teasing neckline that made her chest look like the softest place in the whole world.
The folds flared out around her waist like a ball gown and her hair was twisted to one side, cascading over her right shoulder, exposing her white neck.
She had just the right amount of make-up.
And she was all mine.
My throat tightened with emotion.
“Sarah.” My hungry eyes couldn’t figure out where to stop as I memorized every detail of her. “You look…” I shook my head, unable to find the words. “You look like a princess. I can’t believe I get to marry you.”
She moved through the room, straight into my open arms. For a long minute, I just held her, relishing in the warmth of her body. As if someone flicked a switch, the remaining tension I’d carried spun away, down a drain, lost and forgotten.
She pushed me back, surveying my outfit. “You look so handsome, too.”
I dropped my forehead to hers and our gentle kiss made my previous trepidation seem silly. There was no way in hell I’d go through the rest of my life unable to kiss this woman. I would starve to death.
Why did I always resort to worry?
It was a question to answer another time.
Right now, my bride was in my arms and I funneled my love through our kiss.
Abruptly, she pulled away. “I brought you something.”
That was the first time I noticed she brought a gift bag into the room and placed it on the table.
A smile curled into my cheek. “I have something for you, too. But I was going to give it to you after.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I won’t object if you want to give it to me now.”
“Alright.” I found my duffle bag and fished out the tiny box. “Who first?”
“You.” She handed me the bag. Stifling the gigantic smile blooming across my face, I tore the paper out of the bag to find a book.
Across the front were the words Sarah and Peter and the year of our establishment, which was fifteen years ago if you counted all the way back to the beginning of our friendship.
“You probably don’t have time to look at it right now. But we can later.”
I flipped open the first page to find her handwriting on the inside cover.
To the man who holds all my dreams,
Thank you for being the greatest adventure of my life. I love you.
Your Sunshine Girl.
I took a deep swallow and flipped the page. It brimmed with pictures of us in seventh grade. Quickly flipping through gave a quick preview of all the adventures we’d taken. The hikes, the rivers, the sneaking, the laughter, the events, the risks.
She was right. There wasn’t time to really look right now, but I thanked her with a kiss and we slipped the book into my bag to make sure it went on the honeymoon with us.
“Your turn,” I whispered.
With a grin, she tore the thin white tissue paper surrounding the jewelry box and revealed a golden bracelet with fifteen unique charms dangling from it. She gasped. “Oh, Peter, this is so pretty.” She fingered through them. “Are they all little suns?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my goodness.” Her watery blue eyes found mine. “I love it.”
“There’s fifteen. One for every year.”
She tsked as emotion drummed up in her eyes. “Put it on me. I want to wear it.” She held out her right hand.
“For the wedding?”
“Of course!”
Laughing that Sarah wanted to add the bracelet to her already perfect ensemble, I latched the gold around her wrist then lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Ready to cross get married off your list, Sunshine Girl?”