“Thanks, babe,” I said, giving Cedar a hug. “Want to go see what kind of mayhem is happening in the barn?” I said to both of them.
“Let’s go,” Cara said. “Maybe there will be a bounce house? Every reception should have a bounce house.”
“And a chocolate fountain,” I added.
“I wouldn’t mind giant beanbags for laying down. Instead of uncomfortable chairs that are wobbly and hurt my back,” Cedar added.
“Beanbags are a must,” I said, agreeing.
We left the house and headed over to the barn. The doors had been thrown wide and my mouth dropped open.
“Wow,” I said.
“Pretty much.”
“I feel like I’m in a postcard,” Cedar said.
Mom had outdone herself. Strings of beautiful lights had been draped over the rafters and hung down the walls, as if it was raining drops of starlight. There were a few tables with fancy cloths on them and tons of food, and she’d even brought in speakers to play soft music. A space had also been cleared to make a dance floor.
“Is that a cake?” Cara said, pointing to the end of the food table.
“They didn’t,” I said, even though the evidence was right there. They got us a wedding cake with our initials on top. L and C.
“My parents are something else,” I said, and that was when Mom rushed over, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her hair flying everywhere.
“I think we’re finally ready for you. Welcome to your reception that is not a reception.” She waved her arm dramatically to indicate the barn.
“Mom, this is too much. You didn’t have to do this. At all.”
She put her arm around me and gave me a sloppy kiss on the side of my forehead.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. For both of you.” Cara was tucked under her other arm and got the same kiss treatment.
“This is amazing. And you definitely didn’t have to do this, but thank you,” Cara said.
“Anything for my girls. Okay, let’s get this started!” We all headed for the food table first and Mom had all of our favorite things: mini pizzas, spinach and artichoke dip, sushi, Reuben sliders, pickles, a huge cheese tray, and all our favorite juices and sodas.
“Look,” Cara said, poking my arm as we grabbed some plates. I glanced to the other end, near the cake.
“Apple pie,” I said, smiling at her.
“Apple pie promise.”
Even though we’d eaten a little not long before, we were hungry again and loaded up our plates and took them to one of the tables.
“I can’t see everyone,” I said. I loved everyone here and I didn’t want to exclude anyone.
“Can we move the tables into a square?” I asked Mom.
“Oh, sure,” she said, and everyone rushed to push the four rectangular tables so they formed a square and we all sat on the outside. It was a little bit like being in a school classroom again with all our desks this way so we could have better class discussions, but it worked. I sat with Cara on my left and my parents on my right, and everyone else filled in. It was a little strange not having any family here, but neither Cara nor I was super close with our extended family, and a lot of them lived several states away and wouldn’t have been able to come anyway. Plus, there was the whole “we’re getting married out of the blue, wanna come?” way we’d done it. I was glad to just have these people here. Everyone I considered family, whether we were blood-related or not.
“Oh, the champagne,” Mom said, getting up and rushing over to a bucket on the food table that was filled with ice and bottles of wine, beer, and apparently champagne.
“We have to have a toast,” she said, filling everyone’s glasses as Dad helped her.
“You don’t have to do the whole toast thing,” I said, trying to wave her off, but Cara put her hand on my leg under the table.
“Let her do it, Lo,” she said in my ear and I decided that I should probably just shut up now and let this whole thing happen and enjoy it. No, we hadn’t asked for this, but my parents and our friends had come together to support us and that was a lot more than some people had. Why couldn’t I just let myself have this?