He bites his lower lip, smiles and nods. No witty comeback, he just smiles. It’s one of those special moments that hits you like a freight train. For that moment in time, everything is perfect. Not perfect in the true sense of the word, but it’s exactly the way it should be. That’s what this moment is. It’s genuine and lovely. I wish I could wrap it up and tuck it away in a box so I could open it up later, over and over again. When I blink, it’s gone. So, I say, “See you in a few hours, Mr. Glenn.”
And he says, “I’ll be the handsome one in the black suit, standing next to the priest.”
I shower and do my hair and make-up and paint my toe nails in the bathroom in Dimitri’s old bedroom. Sunny stops in a few times to check on me and to see if I need any help. I secretly think she’s just dying to see what I’m wearing because I haven’t told anyone. I want to surprise Dimitri. Not that I’m really into tradition, but that is the tradition, isn’t it? He’s not supposed to know. Just as I slip into my shoes I hear the doorbell ring. It’s 5:57 and the first guests are arriving. All there is left for me to do now is wait.
At 6:20 there’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Miss Veronica, may I come in?” I open the door to Bob’s familiar smile.
“Miss Veronica, you look like a picture.”
I blush. “Thanks, Bob.”
“Place is filling up down there. Are you ready?”
I nod.
“Before we head down, I brought something for you. There’s an old saying that goes along with weddings. I don’t remember all of it, and I may not be remembering it correctly, but I’m fairly certain there’s a line about something borrowed and something blue.”
I nod again. “I think I’ve heard that one.”
He reaches into his suit coat pocket. “Well, I would be honored if you would wear this tonight. I don’t know if it matches your dress—I’m not real good with that sort of thing—,” he looks down, chuckling a bit to himself. “But it is blue.” Lying in the palm of his hand is a delicate gold and sapphire bracelet.
The tears are welling up in my eyes and I take a deep breath in hopes of pushing them back. “Bob, it’s beautiful. I would be proud to wear it.”
I extend my arm and he fastens it around my wrist and then raises my hand and kisses the back of it. “It belonged to Alice. I know that seeing you wear it on this day would make her very happy, Miss Veronica.”
All I can do is smile.
He looks at his pocket watch. “It’s time.” He smiles, eyes glistening, and thrusts his elbow out proudly. I slip my arm through. The polyester fabric of his suit coat is scratchy against my bare arm. Bob and Alice never had any daughters, so when I asked him if he would walk me down the aisle, it was something especially important for him. It’s a big deal for me, too. I can’t do this alone.
When we get down all the flights of stairs, I see Sunny sitting at the piano at the back of the gallery. She’s fidgeting on the bench. She sees us as we approach and smiles sweetly before looking down at her sheet music. The wedding march begins and the priest asks everyone to stand. It’s time.
The room is dimly lit overhead, but there are literally hundreds of candles strategically placed throughout the room. The gallery is absolutely glowing, and it’s breathtaking.
Bob’s pace is slow and steady, which is perfect because I’m about ready to blackout. High heels may have been a bad idea. I decide to focus on the faces around me. The crowd is small, about thirty people. The majority of them are Dimitri’s family and friends, but I spot my guests quickly. Tate and Monica are first. Tate is giving me the thumbs up and Monica is smiling. Her eyes are glistening. John and his mom are next. His mom blows me a kiss and John waves. And then there’s Piper who’s never hard to miss. She’s bouncing in place, practically vibrating with nervous, happy energy. I’m smiling now. I’m glad they’re here. This feels right.
We’re near the end of aisle before I look up. The first thing I see is a wall of pink cascading from the ceiling to the floor. I have no idea how Sunny pulled it off, but it’s extraordinary. She’s a genius with flowers. And then I see the handsome guy, standing next to the priest, in front of the lilies. And all my worries melt away. He’s beautiful. His suit is black, paired with a crisp white shirt. He’s wearing his burgundy tie—the one he wore to dinner when we were in Las Vegas—just as I requested. His eyes are shining, and he’s wearing a faint smile. It’s the kind of smile that originates in the depths of your soul. So deep that by the time it reaches the surface it’s faint, but so emotional it’s almost painful. I know because I’m wearing it too, and I feel it.
Bob and I stop when we reach them. Directly before us is the priest, and to his left is Dimitri, and to his left is Sebastian. Sebastian smiles at Bob and me. The music stops and I hear Sunny’s heels clicking up the aisle behind us as the crowd is seated.
“Who here gives Dimitri and Veronica to marriage?” The priest asks.
Sunny is standing beside me now. She reaches out and gives Dimitri’s hand a squeeze. “I do.” Then she whispers too low for anyone except Dimitri and me to hear. “I love you. Both of you.”
The priest looks to Bob, whose arm is still interlocked with mine. Bob clears his throat. “I do, on behalf of William and Josephine.”
I smile. I didn’t realize he was going to say that. My hand involuntarily clutches the locket I’m wearing around my neck. The locket belonged to my mom, a gift from my dad on their wedding day. I’ve kept it stored away until today. It contains their wedding photo. I wanted them here with me. It seemed the best way.
The priest nods to Sunny and Bob to take their seats. Bob pats my arm before releasing it.
As they’re taking their seats the priest leans forward and whispers to me, “Where is your maid of honor, dear?”
I pat the locket hanging over my heart. “They’re right here.”
He concedes with a nod and begins the ceremony. It all passes in a blur. I can’t focus on anything except those gorgeous gray eyes locked with mine. They’re shining with tears and happiness. I’m not taking in individual moments, just those eyes.
I repeat the priest’s words when I’m asked to, as does Dimitri. And I place the ring on Dimitri’s finger when I’m asked to, as does Dimitri. But when I hear the words, “You may now kiss the bride,” I’m fully alert. All of my senses come back in a rush. I smell lilies and sandalwood. I see Sebastian grinning ear to ear. I hear whistling and cheering from our friends and family. And I feel the warmth of Dimitri’s hands on either side of my face as I breathe in his kiss. His lips are soft and taste like vanilla. It’s heavenly.
The priest looks to our guests and gestures toward us. “I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Glenn.”
Dimitri takes my hand. “Shall we, Mrs. Smith-Glenn?”
I smile and nod. I can’t believe I’m married to this precious person. How did this happen? What makes me so special to deserve someone like him?
As we walk down the aisle to the cheers of our family and friends, he leans in and whispers. “I love the dress, though you may have warned me. I was prepared for floor-length white, something concealing and chaste … and virginal. Instead, you look hot. Do you think anyone noticed that I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when you walked down the aisle?”
I wink. “It’s your own fault. You picked it out.” I decided to wear the burgundy dress Dimitri gave me in Las Vegas. I realize it’s not standard issue white and it is very revealing, but I’m not a big fan of tradition. I wanted to feel pretty on my wedding day and this is the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen. So, I thought, why not?
We stop outside and he pulls me aside before the crowd follows. “I love that you asked Bob to walk you down the aisle. Well done. He was so proud. Wait until you see the pictures.”
“He’s special. And since my dad couldn’t be here …” I trail off sadly.
He gestures to my locket. “May I?”
I nod.
He opens it gently and smiles knowingly at the image insid
e. “I knew it.” He snaps it shut and kisses my forehead. “They made it after all.”
We are interrupted by hugs and kisses and photos and more hugs and more kisses and more photos. Then we all proceed outside to enjoy the evening reception. Dinner lives up to its reputation and exceeds my expectations. Everyone finishes up their cupcakes as darkness descends. The twinkle lights act as backdrop for us to circulate the yard and personally thank everyone individually for coming. I am so blessed to have reconnected with Tate, Monica, John, and Piper this summer. Teagan’s death was the unfortunate catalyst, but I am so, so grateful to have them all in my life again. I won’t lose them twice. Tate, Monica, and John are all leaving to go back to various out-of-state colleges next week, and Piper’s moving to Puerto Rico next month, so the wedding’s timing couldn’t have been better.
At ten-thirty, Dimitri reminds me of the time. “We’d better get going or we’ll miss our flight.”
The majority of them have gone home. It is a Monday night after all, and most of them have to be to work in the morning. A few of Dimitri’s relatives from Texas are staying with Sunny for a few days and have moved into the kitchen to talk. We say our goodbyes and give our last hugs.
Sunny hugs us both at once and kisses each of us on the cheek. “I want you to know how much I love you both. Congratulations. Be careful on your trip and have fun. Take lots of pictures.”
Sebastian hugs Dimitri next and says something I can’t hear and then he hugs me, “Welcome to the family, Ronnie. It’s strange to say that, because I’ve always thought of you as family, just like my sister. I love you.”
I feel the same way. “I love you, too.”
We wave to the rest and run out the back door to the garage. Dimitri packed our suitcases yesterday (he’s being very secretive about our trip) and put them in the Porsche so they’d be ready to go tonight. Just as I’m about to click my seatbelt in place I look down at my wrist and see the bracelet winking at me in the light. “Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.”
I run back inside, to Sunny’s surprise, “Where’s Bob?”
“I believe he’s sitting in the living room.”
He is. He’s sitting on the big leather sofa watching an old sitcom, and from the look of the unnatural angle of his neck I would bet he’s asleep. I tip toe around in front of him and find that he is. I kneel before him and jostle his shoulder gently. It takes a moment for him adjust to wakefulness.
“I’m so sorry to wake you Bob, but I wanted to return the bracelet.” I take his hand and turn it palm side up curling his fingers around it. “It was so thoughtful of you. It meant a lot to me to wear it during my wedding day”
He smiles and his tired eyes twinkle. “You’re welcome, Miss Veronica. Alice will be pleased to hear you wore it. I’ll tell her tomorrow when I visit her.”
“You’ll tell her thank you for me?”
He nods. “I will.”
I pat his knee and stand. Before I exit the room I stop. I turn around and say, “I love you Bob.”
He turns his head stiffly. “I love you too, Miss Veronica.”
Life is sometimes …. ceremonious.
Chapter 25
L’attente est terminée
The flight departs at 12:45am. I still have no clue where we’re headed, though I suspect it’s international since Dimitri insisted I get a passport. Dimitri covers my eyes as we approach the gate so I can’t read the sign and then places me strategically in a seat in the waiting area without a clear view of it. I can’t hear any of the announcements that are most likely being made over the concourse speakers, because I’m listening to his iPod with earbuds. He’s thoroughly keeping me in the dark. I don’t mind. He put a lot of thought and time into planning the honeymoon so I don’t want to ruin the surprise.
As soon as we take our seats in first class I remove the earbuds and ask the flight attendant for a blanket. I’m still wearing the dress and have Dimitri’s suit coat on over it, but my legs are chilly. “We should’ve changed clothes,” I tell him.
He shakes his head.
“Why not? We would’ve been more comfortable.”
“I don’t think you understand how incredible you look in that dress. It does crazy things to me. I’m thinking about calling the store in Vegas to see if I can buy six more in your size, so that way you can wear one every day of the week.” He looks like he means it.
“It’s more a special occasion dress. I don’t see myself pushing the shopping cart around the supermarket in it.”
He coils his arms around me. “You know, I’m never going to think about grocery shopping the same way again. I might even take up cooking to encourage extra trips,” he says, smiling roguishly.
“Thanks for always making me feel beautiful and loved.”
“You are. Always,” he says, kissing my forehead.
The flight attendant returns with a blanket. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“A pillow, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Dimitri requests.
“No trouble at all.” She looks to me. “And you, miss?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
She nods. “Well, let me know if you change your mind, the flight to Paris is a long one.”
I’m stunned. “Can you repeat that please? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”
She looks puzzled, but repeats, “I said, let me know if you change your mind.”
“No, the last part, can you repeat the last part please?”
“The flight to Paris is long?”
“Shut the front door! Are we really going to Paris?”
She’s looking at me like I have two heads.
Dimitri is sitting in the aisle seat closest to her. He cups his hand to his mouth toward her as if to hide what he’s about to say, but he doesn’t lower his voice. “We were married tonight and we’re going to Paris for our honeymoon, somewhere my wife has always wanted to visit. The destination has been a secret … until now. You’ll have to excuse her; she may be experiencing symptoms of temporary shock.”
The flight attendant smiles. “I’m sorry to have spoiled the surprise.” She looks apologetically to me. “Can you forgive me?”
“Are you kidding? Of course! I’m on my way to Paris! I’d kiss you if you were closer.”
She laughs. “Well, congratulations to both of you.”
“Thanks so much,” Dimitri says, and glances at her nametag. “Gabrielle, you can call me Dimitri.” He gestures toward me. “And this is my wife, Veronica.”
I wave.
She smiles. “Very well Dimitri and Veronica. I’ll be right back with that pillow.”
I’m trying to keep my voice down as I turn back to Dimitri and say, “Oh my God, we’re really going to Paris?” Despite all the excitement of my wedding day, this news has given me butterflies all over again.
He smiles and nods. “Where else would we possibly go? It’s our honeymoon. I thought you figured it out weeks ago.”
“No. I know it’s going to sound stupid, but I thought we were going to a beach, somewhere tropical. Isn’t that what people do on their honeymoons?”
“A beach? We don’t even swim.” He pauses. “Although that would have meant you in a bikini for a week.” He hits the heel of his hand against his forehead. “God, I’m such an idiot, why didn’t I think of that? You’re planning all the honeymoons from here on out.” He looks at me and winks and then reaches down to squeeze my knee. “Paris is the most romantic city in the world. What better place for a honeymoon?” He whispers in my ear, “And honeymoons aren’t just about beaches. They’re supposed to be all about romance, and love, and sex … and romance, and sex … Did I mention sex?”
I giggle. “I thought the point of traveling was to see the sights and have experiences you wouldn’t normally have at home.”
He kisses my neck. “Oh, I intend to return home quite experienced.”
Judging from the playfulness in his voice I don’t think he’s referring t
o the Eiffel Tower or brushing up on his French.
We sleep for most of the flight. It’s direct: Denver to Paris. I’ve been spoiled by first-class seats and all the hot tea I want, which makes the nine hour trip breeze by. We eat a meal about an hour before landing—croissants wrapped in plastic with small cups of yogurt and small, waxy apples. Over the intercom our captain tells us that there’s patchy fog and that the landing will be bumpy. “The time in Paris is seven o’clock in the evening,” the voice crackles.
Our plane lands and we’re off and into baggage claim in no time. Airport signs are in French obviously, but it’s still surreal, something I never dreamed I’d ever see. I’m in the midst of sensory overload and we haven’t even left the airport yet. As we step outside I’m picturing all of the landmarks I’m going to see while we’re here. I stand on my tiptoes and peer around like I’m going to be able to see the Eiffel Tower from here. The fog is thickening and the sun, though barely visible, is getting low, not exactly perfect sightseeing conditions even if we weren’t standing on a sidewalk outside the airport. I remind myself we have five days.
My French is rusty, but as I chat with the cab driver it starts coming back. The ride ends at a hotel that appears to be hundreds of years old yet pristine. Three doormen descend as the cab pulls to the curb. They have our suitcases loaded on a cart before Dimitri has even paid for the ride.
“Merci,” I say, waving to the cabbie as I crawl out of the backseat. I’m already enjoying this trip more than I thought possible. I feel like I’m back in school on some sort of far-fetched field trip and Madame Lemieux, my former French teacher, is going to pull up in a bus behind us with the rest of my class any minute now.
The doormen greet us in French and whisk us inside to the check-in desk. The lobby is fancy, really fancy and déjà vu creeps over me. Dread squirms deep in the pit of my stomach. It’s the same feeling I had outside the jewelry store when we went ring shopping. This place is too nice for me. And then I watch Dimitri; he isn’t fazed in the least. And his French—his French!—is amazing. He told me once that he spoke a little French. But he lied. He’s fluent. And he’s confident, straightforward, witty, and charming … in French. This is unbelievably impressive, and beyond sexy. I’m stunned. And I’m no longer feeling inadequate. I’m feeling turned-on.