Page 40 of Let's Call a Truce
Our bridesmaids’ dresses were pretty, a light pink that complemented my brown hair and olive skin. It was simple and comfortable, and I was thankful she didn’t go with something over the top.
Another hour, manic organization, and eight full cars later, we finally made it to the church. Gabriela was a vision, wearing an elaborately embroidered dress with butterfly sleeves handmade by a family member in Manila. It was one of a kind, just like her.
The planner had already lined up the groomsmen, instructing us to find our partners. I found Marcus and had to give it to Lola. Her taste didn’t suck. He was tall, six one or two, withbeautiful black hair. He smiled when he saw me, his soft brown eyes twinkling.
“Marcus? I’m Juliana.”
“It’s great to meet you in person.” He reached out for a respectful handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“From yourlola?” I cringed, and he laughed loudly.
“Yes, from mylola.No pressure. I am sorry for her meddling. She’s subjected us all to it at least once in our lives, but she normally doesn’t pull these antics with people outside of the family. You must be special.”
“Sure. Special.” I laughed.
“She tells me you have kids?”
My smile softened. “Yeah, Clara and Sophie. They are nine and seven now. It’s been just the three of us since my husband passed away a few years ago.”
He nodded, but I saw his body tense a bit at the mention of Jason.
“So what do you do?” He blatantly changed the subject away from my husband, and I cringed again. Clearly, he fell in the sad-things-make-me-uncomfortable category.
We talked for a few minutes about our work, the worst interviews I’d been forced to sit through, and stories from his hospital that were equal parts entertaining and horrifying. He was sweet and interesting, and I could understand why Lola thought we would be a good fit. I stood in the back of the church, arm woven through Marcus’s as we waited.
“Our turn,” Marcus whispered beside me, and the two of us started down the aisle.
The church was beautiful, an elaborate Catholic cathedral with art lining the walls and a giant stained-glass window at the front. Enormous bouquets lined the aisle leading to the altar, and I looked over the congregation as I made my way down. An irrational part of my brain skimmed the crowd for someone who couldn’t possibly be there. A head of auburn wavesand the sparkling hazel eyes that had greeted me at the end of my own aisle. This was the first wedding I had attended since Jason died, and I tried not to think about the fact that heshouldhave been here.
Instead, I found my friends and let them ground me. I spotted Rosario—Fish Dip Girl, though I’d keep that nickname to myself—whom Dani had been dating since our trip to the farmers market a few weeks ago. Dani was beside her, a mischievous grin on her face that had me narrowing my eyes. Asia was next, dwarfed by the fourth person in their row. Broad shoulders and dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. Ben turned his head toward me, and a shock of adrenaline shot through me.
My feet faltered, and Marcus tightened his grip on my arm to keep me from falling. I looked up to find him smiling reassuringly at me, but my gaze was instantly drawn back to Ben. He was watching me intently, and a scowl of frustration took over my face. I wasn’t sure if the scowl was at him or at myself for the goose bumps along my arms. I forced my face back into an angelic smile, knowing Gabriela would have my head if I was frowning in her wedding photographs. I thought of things that made me happy—beautiful tulips, my kids’ smiles, a stroll through a Parisian garden, anythingbutBen.
After a couple weeks of reflection, I could recognize that I could have—maybe, possibly—overreacted to the whole Paris situation. But that didn’t mean pursuing something with him was a good idea. Our worlds were too intertwined. Work, our friends, now even our kids were obsessed with each other. If, or more likelywhen,things went wrong, I couldn’t escape him. He was everywhere. Ifelthim everywhere.
The ceremony was beautiful. Gabriela and Christopher incorporated lovely traditions, and as I watched their godparents lay the veil and cord around the couple, I thought about how magical it was to have your entire community integrated into your wedding ceremony.
My heart swelled, thinking back to my own ceremony, the joy and love I felt when I stood opposite Jason and pledged to spend my life loving him. Even knowing how things would end, the pain and heartbreak when I lost him, I would not have given up a single day with him. Looking at Gabriela and Christopher, I knew they’d make the same decision. Nothing in this life was guaranteed, but the decision to choose love, for however long we got to have it, was always the right one.
The ceremony passed quickly, despite the fact that it was a full Catholic wedding infused with a half dozen Filipino traditions. Suddenly, we were being ushered back down the aisle in a haze of cheers and tears, with twenty emotional women rushing to hug and congratulate their best friend all at once.
Next were group pictures, an hour of posed and “candid” shots of us all having a great time in a large field framed by old oak trees. We covered our eyes while the new couple kissed. Each bridesmaid climbed on her paired groomsman’s back. We jumped hundreds of times in an—unsuccessful—attempt to get one with all of us in the air.
Finally, it came to one-on-one pictures between the bride and her bridesmaids. I stood to the side waiting for my turn, knowing we’d have to wait around for a while with a group this size. The cocktail hour was across the field, and I spotted Asia walking over to say hi in her stunning emerald dress.
She gestured for me to spin when she got close, and I twirled with a laugh, dropping into a curtsy.
“I know I call you babe all the time,” she said. “But you arereallyowning the nickname today.”
I widened my eyes and whispered, “And it only took four hours and three professionals to get me there.”
She laughed and wrapped her arm around my waist. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I said, dropping my cheek down on the top of her head. “Thank you for checking on me.”
“Of course, babe. I’ve always got your back.”
A skeptical hum escaped me as I thought about just who was waiting at the cocktail hour. “Well, not always.”
