Epilogue
It’s May of the following year when I’m looking at wedding dresses again.
This time for Audrey.
She surprised us a few weeks ago when she announced she was getting married to a friend of hers.
He needs health insurance for an upcoming surgery, and since she just finished her PhD and got a good job as an assistant professor at a small liberal arts college a couple of hours from here, she’s going to help him out.
Help him out by marrying him so he can use her insurance.
She’s been talking on and off about Devin for months now, and they’ve gotten close. I’m the last person in the world to position to question someone’s reason to get married. So, ever since I’ve recovered from the surprise, I’ve been fully supportive. So has Natalie.
Natalie, of course, has jumped headlong into a new plan of staging a December wedding ceremony for them to show off Blossom Park again.
That’s where the wedding dress comes in. Audrey and Devin have already gotten married at the courthouse, but she needs a dress for the winter ceremony.
We aren’t having much luck so far.
“It’s terrible!” Audrey is dressing behind a door. She doesn’t like getting completely naked in front of anyone—even her sisters.
“It’s not even on all the way,” Natalie says. “Come out and let me do all the buttons.”
Audrey is grumbling under her breath as she opens the door to and comes out into the wider dressing room. We’re at the same small wedding boutique where I found my dress, but since Audrey absolutely forbid any photos or influencers, there’s no one else around except one member of the staff.
“I look like a big white pillow on a frou-frou bed.” Audrey is giving Natalie a malevolent glare in the mirror while she fastens a whole line of small buttons.
“It’s not that bad,” I say.
“Yes, it is.”
The truth is it’s not great. The dress is one I would have loved—soft and pretty and natural with a loose cut and beautiful embroidery on the bodice and hem. But Audrey has a lot more in the chest than I do, so the dress hangs too baggily around the waist.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Natalie says, leaving half the buttons undone because it’s clear that cut isn’t going to work for her. “It looks like a maternity dress.”
Audrey scowls at Natalie, and I stifle a giggle as I say, “It’s not that bad, but it’s definitely not the dress for her.
Let’s try something with more structure.
What about the one with long sleeves and the sweetheart neckline?
” I glance back at the shop assistant, who pulls the dress I mentioned from the rack of options.
Groaning, Audrey lets the woman hang the dress in the dressing room and then steps back in to close the door. “I don’t think I’m made for wedding dresses.”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Natalie says with the bright, cheerful, no-nonsense confidence that’s always defined her. “The perfect dress is waiting for you out there. We just need to find it.”
We try for three more hours but don’t find the perfect dress today.
Audrey is ready to give up, but since we’ve only tried one place so far, Natalie and I convince her to take a break tomorrow and try somewhere else the day after.
We’re walking a few blocks over to a little sandwich shop to have a late lunch when Natalie says, “Uh, Ella, there’s a very cute guy in a sweater vest over there ogling you.”
I whirl to look, a wave of happy excitement hitting me hard when I realize the guy is Wes.
He’s standing in front of the restaurant, grinning at us.
He’s been working in D.C. for a week now, and I haven’t seen him in all that time. With a squeal of excitement, I run toward him, letting him scoop me up in a big hug.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, spilling over with laughter as we finally pull apart.
“We wrapped up this morning, so I was able to get here early. I checked your location and saw you walking in this direction, so I made an educated guess about your destination.”
“You’re way too smart.” I pull him down into a kiss, tugging on his sweater vest. It’s knitted in various shades of gray, and Wes wears it when he’s trying to look more professional.
“Any luck with the dress?” he asks, waving at Audrey and Natalie, who are approaching more slowly.
“No. Don’t mention it unless Audrey brings it up. She’s kind of discouraged.”
“Got it. Only feel-good talk at lunch. Assuming you’re okay with me joining you.”
“Of course you can join us.” Since my sisters have caught up now, I ask them, “Wes can have lunch with us, can’t he?”
“Why not?” Audrey says with exaggerated despair. “We’re just going to be grieving any hope of finding me a dress, so you might as well join the mourning session.”
Despite Audrey’s prediction, lunch ends up being great fun. Wes is in fine form and keeps all of us laughing, and Audrey is back in her normal even temper by the time she and Natalie head toward the car to drive home.
I’m staying with Wes because we have a date planned for tonight.
“So what should we do?” I ask him as we watch my sisters walking away. “We have four hours before the concert starts.”
Wes clears his throat, angling me a very particular look.
“What?” I demand.
“I reserved a room at a hotel nearby.”
“What? Why? We’re not spending the night, are we? I didn’t come prepared.”
“No. I wasn’t thinking we’d spend the night. Just use the room this afternoon.”
“Oh. To rest?” I beam up at him. “That’s a good idea, if maybe a waste of money.”
“I don’t think it’s a waste.” His eyes glint. “We can rest. Or whatever.”
“Wes!” I swap his chest playfully. “You’re not that horny, are you?
“What? I haven’t seen you in a week. I’m as horny as it’s possible to be.”
It’s well after midnight when we’re pulling though the main gates of Blossom Park.
We had a couple of very satisfying hours in the hotel and even had some time to rest before a quick dinner and the concert.
I’m exhausted but happy. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I smile in Wes’s direction.
He gives me a quiet look and smiles back.
That’s my man. My husband. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with him.
“You look happy,” he says, pulling into out parking place near our cottage.
“I am.”
I need to collect a bunch of random stuff from the floor of the passenger seat, so Wes has come all the way around to my door by the time I start to open it. He helps me out, pulling me against him so he can kiss me gently.
“You know what?” he asks as he draws his face from mine a few inches.
“What?”
“We made it through the afternoon and evening without a single person taking our photo.”
I blink.
He’s right. It’s been so long since we’ve gotten much attention from social media that I hadn’t even realized it, but we were out and about together most of the day, and no one cared at all.
“What do you think about that?” he asks, caressing one of my cheeks with his knuckles.
“I think…” I can’t seem to stop smiling. “It’s exactly the way it should be. At last.”