Chapter 36
Colter Bay is stunning, a picturesque, serene, rocky beachfront that backs up to the towering Tetons, their snowcapped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun.
Thanks to the permit we requested, we’ve been given a dedicated area for Meredith and Grant to tie the knot, but it has no bearing on the tourists enjoying the crisp mountain water behind us.
“Someone should go say something,” Vivianne says, as Amelia and her team erect the wedding arch, the view blocked by the slew of college kids drinking on a party raft behind it.
“Don’t worry, I got it,” Mira assures Vivianne, taking charge.
After watching her all day, I understand why she’s always starving after work—she must burn thousands of calories each shift.
Between running back and forth all day, with those cameras hanging from her shoulders, she hasn’t sat down for a second.
Her stamina is endless and she runs down to the rocky edge, shouting at the group.
It only takes a minute before they are paddling in the opposite direction and waving apologetically.
I stand there in awe of her. Here, with a camera in her hand, she’s headstrong and tenacious, taking charge and handling crises with ease.
It’s what has allowed her to succeed for all these years, but I know there’s another side of her too.
The one who remembers little details, who helps elderly guests walk over rocky terrain, and who is smiling at me.
I can’t believe that I get to see all of her. The sour and the sweet. The subtle and the strong.
I want to wrap my arms around her, to push that hair out of her eyes, to kiss her there and then, when my mother’s voice rings out over the crowd.
“Hudson Walter Hayes!”
And I know I’m fucked.
Despite the rocky terrain, Susan’s surprisingly quick in her heels, her determination to cause a scene greater than any fear of turning an ankle. She comes right up to me, her lavish blue dress flowing behind her.
“Did you punch your brother last night?” she asks, pointing an accusatory finger in my face.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I explain, but rage flares behind her eyes.
“Seriously?” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose in disgust. It’s the same movement she’d make anytime I left my boots on the rug or embarrassed her by reading during her cocktail parties.
“You decide this week is the time to work out your squabbles. I swear, we can’t get through a single family function without you or your brother embarrassing me. ”
“Oh my fucking God,” Grant says, stepping in between us, irritation lining his face. “Can you go one day without making everything about you?”
“Excuse me?” Susan’s mouth pitches open. “Do I need to remind you that I’m the one who paid for all this?”
“You mean, my father paid for all of this,” Grant claps back. “Because you haven’t had a job since what? 1999?”
She’s stunned into silence, a feat I didn’t believe was possible.
“What in God’s name is going on over here?” George asks, pulling on the lapel of his navy suit jacket.
“Your son is being an ungrateful brat,” Susan says, crossing her arms over her chest. And now I understand why she’s always been incapable of mothering, because she still acts like a child herself.
George turns his attention to his son. “Grant?”
“What?” he snaps as we both watch George’s expression go rigid, his chest expanding in indignation.
“Your mother and I put a lot of time and money into this event—”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Grant argues, not backing down. “Meredith and I told you we wanted to pay for this ourselves. We tried to and then Susan came in and steamrollered our plans.”
“What plans?” George asks, annoyed. “I hope to God you didn’t plan to embarrass us because that’s what you’ve been doing all week. Putting us up in that sorry excuse for a hotel, torturing us on a boat, starving us to death. Is that what you wanted to do?”
“Just because it’s not what you want doesn’t mean it’s unacceptable.
” Grant drags a hand over his face. “I know you think that I’m throwing my life away, that I’m still that stupid kid that needed you to clean up my mess, but I’m not.
I’m an adult with a solid career, and a soon-to-be wife.
I get that you want everything to be perfect but that’s not me.
And it’s definitely not Meredith. I tried for years to fit into that mold, but I finally found someone who accepts me for me,” Grant says, his eyes radiating with pure love as he finds Meredith standing a few paces from us, Vivianne by her side.
“And I’m going to marry her on our terms. We’re going to have wildflowers and a keg at the reception.
And we’re not posing for any family photos not on our approved list. And you’re not going to say a negative word about me or my wife for the rest of the day? Got it?”
Coming up beside him, Meredith links her arm through Grant’s in solidarity and their relationship makes sense. Their bond of found family, of cherishing the people who have chosen them, of overcoming childhood trauma, of accepting each other, flaws and all.
“I was just standing up for you,” Susan argues, her voice low now that guests have noticed the not so private conversation we’re having.
But Grant’s voice stays steady. “You want to know why Hudson punched me?”
I stare at him with wide, unbelieving eyes, but he shakes his head. “Because he caught me fucking Katherine.”
George puffs out his chest in horror, his skin turning red, and my mother clutches her chest, her glare traveling from Grant, to Meredith, to me, as if she suspects I might punch him again.
“What are you saying?” George asks, frazzled.
“We’re in an open relationship,” Meredith explains. “Which is frankly none of your business but here we are.”
From the lack of surprise on Vivianne’s face, I’m certain Meredith has explained her relationship status to her aunt. And, honestly, I’d expect nothing less. They are a family who actually communicates and trusts each other.
“Hudson? You’re not a part of this lifestyle, are you?” My mother’s eyes turn to me, disgusted, and I know what she’s asking. If we are all baring our truths I might as well add mine to the pile.
“Katherine and I broke up months ago,” I admit, waiting for her judgment. “And since we’re all being honest, I’m with Mira now.”
“Who the hell is Mira?” my mother asks, stunned.
“I’m Mira,” Mira says, coming to stand beside me.
Grant and Meredith beam at us as we create a wall between Susan and her judgment.
“I hate to break up the fun,” Amelia says, coming over, having absolutely no context to the bombs we’ve just dropped on our parents, “but it’s time to start the ceremony.”
“Perfect,” Grant says, readjusting his suit jacket, “we’re done here anyways.”
Mira follows Grant towards the ceremony, and Amelia leads Meredith and Vivianne to their starting line. I’m about to move off and find my seat when my mother pulls me back. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Katherine broke up?”
There’s hurt on her face, an emotion I didn’t believe was possible thanks to the Botox and her general heartlessness.
“Considering you already made a wedding binder for us, I wasn’t sure how you would take the news.”
“What did you think was going to happen? That I’d force you into a betrothal?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Hudson,” my mother replies sheepishly. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you don’t have to hide parts of your life from me.”
“Really? Because if I told you that I left Katherine and started dating a photographer that I met at a bar where I work in the evenings, you would have said . . . what exactly?”
“I don’t know. But I at least would have gotten to know the girl.”
“Okay, sure,” I scoff.
“I’m not heartless. I know I have impossible standards and I’m not easy to please but I’m human too. I understand that relationships don’t always work out. I mean, look at me and your father.”
There’s a rare tenderness in her voice that I haven’t heard since I was a child.
I think back to those days before the divorce.
All the days my father would work in the garage.
How they would fight in the kitchen when they thought I was asleep.
How miserable they both were. And how happy my mother was when she left.
“I want what’s best for you, always. And we might not agree on what that is but I’m not going to dictate who you can love.”
I cross my arms, unbelieving.
“I know you might not believe me, but I do love you.”
I try to remember the last time my mother uttered those words to me. My tenth birthday, maybe.
“Do you?”
“What kind of question is that to ask your mother?” she asks, taken aback.
“I just haven’t felt that from you in a long time.”
“I don’t believe in coddling.”
“No, you don’t,” I say sourly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to be so cold. I mean, take a look around. Grant’s getting married today, and have you been happy for him for a second?”
My words must strike a chord because my mother takes a step back. For the first time in my life, she seems lost for words.
“I suppose I could do better.”
“That’s all I’m asking for. That’s all any of us are asking for. For you to try. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose us. All of us. And then what’s going to be left for you?”
I let her sit with her thoughts as I find a seat beside Vanessa.
Adrian is sitting on a stool at the front, strumming an acoustic guitar, playing a rendition of “Flightless Bird, American Mouth.” All eyes focus on Meredith as she makes her descent down the aisle, her aunt by her side, smiling with every step.
And as much as I try to give her my full attention, I can’t help but get distracted by Mira, who is huddled in the aisleway, standing so close beside me I can smell her shampoo.
She stands there, eyes glued to her camera, as she swings back and forth, capturing both Grant’s reaction to his bride and Meredith’s unbridled joy.
Throughout the twenty-minute ceremony, Mira races from one side to the other, squatting down to capture the hand-fasting ceremony, and zooming to the front to catch a tear on my mother’s face.
She’s completely in the zone, and I imagine this is how doctors spring into action when a patient is rushed through the door. She doesn’t miss a single moment.
I sit and listen to the officiant share stories of Grant and Meredith’s first date, the first time they said I love you, the moment they knew there was no one else in the world for each other.
And with everything out in the open, their story feels lighter, more genuine, and I too find myself getting swept up in emotion.
I think back to my own firsts with Mira.
The first time I saw her with sad eyes and a guarded exterior, the first time I got her to laugh at a corny joke, the first time she texted me and I swore I’d never go a moment without my phone, the first time she stayed past closing, keeping me company as we dried glasses together because neither of us wanted to go home without the other.
I think of how many more firsts are to come, and I can’t wait to have them with her.