One to Take (One to Hold 8)

“I can’t believe Amy found this dress,” she says, smoothing the front of my lace gown and wiping her eyes.

“That makes two of us,” I agree, fighting tears as well.

It’s a full-length lace slip-dress with delicate spaghetti straps. I’d seen it in Chicago the last time we visited, and Amy had gone straight to the store and ordered it rush delivery.

“She flew the whole way here with it on her lap.” Elaine is carefully pinning the large piece of tulle that forms my veil to the back of my head. A thin ribbon runs all around the edges, but otherwise it’s uncut.

“I didn’t want to risk my suitcase being lost or delayed and ruining everything.” Amy guides the delicate material over my shoulders and down my back and arms.

“It wouldn’t have been ruined.” Our glistening eyes meet, and we smile.

Amy’s light-blonde hair is styled in a loose bun at the back of her neck, and she looks as always like a supermodel.

All the groomsmen wear khaki pants and white button-down shirts, including Lane and Dex, who are adorable in shorts and suspenders and light-blue bow ties. The bridesmaids are in strapless, A-line cocktail dresses the color of sand and strings of beaded thongs are on their feet. They’re leftover from Derek and Melissa’s beach wedding last spring.

“Does that count as something borrowed?” I ask, but Sylvia answers me.

“It does not. Here.” She reaches under my veil and slips a double-strand pearl bracelet around my wrist. A silver starfish with sparkling crystals covers the center clasp, and it hangs loose on my arm. “It’s only borrowed if you give it back.” She winks, and I hug her.

“It’s gorgeous! I love it.” She kisses my cheek before ducking out of my veil.

My short hair is styled to the side with a large white jasmine flower over my ear. Looking around at the group, I take a deep breath. “I think we’re ready.”

Kenny skips to the end of the pier and waves her small bouquet. “They’re ready,” she says coming back to me.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swirls through my stomach, and tears flood my eyes. “I can’t believe it,” I whisper.

Kenny grabs my hand tightly. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin the photos.”

Patrick appears from around the scrub to walk Sylvia to her seat. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, and his shaggy hair is perfectly beachy.

“Wow!” he says loudly. “You guys are hot!”

Elaine skips forward and kisses him. “Not as hot as you!”

“Think Mariska would miss us?”

“I would!” I call out from the back.

He laughs and walks a few steps before his mother pulls his arm, making him turn around. Soft laughter filters through my bridesmaids, and my tears are forgotten as Elaine follows next. The girls all walk in a line, leaving me alone. I follow the path in the sand to Bill, who’s waiting just on the other side of the brush.

His smiles, his kind brown eyes twinkling. “Now this is how I like to see you.”

Slipping my hand in the crook of his arm, I give him a squeeze. “Thanks for coming all the way out here on such short notice.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

My stomach is in nervous knots as we get closer to the front. We pass Melissa with Derek, Elaine and Patrick, Amy and Marcus, Kenny and Slayde, until we’re there, and I lift my eyes to Stuart’s. He’s standing beside the minister, and when our eyes lock, those butterflies come soaring back full speed.

The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled like his brother’s, revealing lined forearms. I’m thankful for the bouquet of white roses and jasmine so he can’t see my hands trembling. The sea breeze musses his light brown hair, and he’s so calm and sure. My gorgeous cowboy.

The minister says something about giving me away. “That’s alright, Padre. We’re just going to keep this one,” Bill replies, and everyone laughs.

I reach over and give him a hug for that unrehearsed response, and when I turn back, Stuart steps to my side, wrapping a strong arm around my waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and I look up into his smoldering hazel eyes. My nerves float away in the briny air.

The minister leads us through traditional vows. Our rings are simple platinum, with mine designed to fit the rose engagement ring on my hand. We promise to love, honor, and cherish; to be with each other through all the difficulties in life. We’ve already had a little taste of how difficult life can be, and I am confident when I say I will. Stuart’s assent is a low vibration massaging my heart.