A Beautiful Wedding (12 page)

“You suck at this game,” Kara said, clearly amused.

“Maybe I’m doing it on purpose? These are good!” I said, popping another shot into my mouth.

“Travis’s answer? Your laugh.”

“Wow,” I said, surprised. “That’s kind of endearing.”

“What is his favorite part of your body?”

“My eyes.”

“Ding, ding, ding! Correct!”

Harmony and Kara clapped, I bowed my head. “Thank you, thank you. Now drink, bitches.”

They all laughed, and popped their shots.

America turned a page and read the next question. “When does Travis want to have kids?”

“Oh,” I blew through my lips. “In seven . . . eight years?”

“A year after graduation.”

Kara and Harmony made the same face, their mouths forming “oh.”

“I’ll drink,” I said. “But he and I will have to talk about that one some more.”

America shook her head. “This is a prewedding game, Abby. You should be much better at this.”

“Shut up. Continue.”

Kara pointed. “Technically she can’t shut up and continue.”

“Shut up,” American and I said in unison.

“Next question!” America said. “What do you think Travis’s favorite moment of your relationship was?”

“The night he won the bet and I moved in?”

“Correct again!” America said.

“This is so sweet. I can’t take it,” Harmony said.

“Drink! Next question,” I said, smiling.

“What is one thing Travis said he’ll never forget that you’ve said to him?”

“Wow. I have no idea.”

Kara leaned in. “Just guess.”

“The first time I said I loved him?”

America narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Technically, you’re wrong. He said it was the time you told Parker you loved Travis!” America burst into laughter, and so did the rest of
us. “Drink!”

America turned another page. “What is the one item Travis can’t live without?”

“His motorcycle.”

“Correct!”

“Where was your first date?”

“Technically it was the Pizza Shack.”

“Correct!” America said again.

“Ask her something more difficult, or we’re going to get hammered,” Kara said, throwing back another shot.

“Hmmm . . .” America said, thumbing through the pages. “Oh, here we go. What do you think Abby’s favorite thing about you is?”

“What kind of question is that?” I asked. They watched me expectantly. “Um . . . my favorite thing about him is the way he always touches me when we sit together, but I bet he
said his tats.”

“Damn it!” America said. “Correct!” They drank, and I clapped to celebrate my small victory.

“One more,” America said. “What does Travis think your favorite present from him is?”

I paused for a few seconds. “That’s easy. The scrapbook he got me for Valentine’s Day this year. Now, drink!”

Everyone laughed, and even though it was their turn, I shared the last shot with them.

Harmony wiped her mouth with a napkin, and helped me to collect the empty cups and place them on the tray. “What’s the plan now, Mare?”

America fidgeted, clearly excited about what she was about to say. “We hit the clubs, that’s what.”

I shook my head. “No way. We talked about this.”

America stuck out her lip.

“Don’t,” I said. “I’m here to renew my vows, not to get a divorce. Think of something else.”

“Why doesn’t he trust you?” America said, her voice very closely resembling a whine.

“If I really wanted to go, I would go. I just respect my husband, and I would rather get along than sit in a smoky club with lights that give me a headache. It would just make him wonder
what went on, and I’d rather not go there. It’s worked so far.”

“I respect Shepley. I still go to clubs without him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Only because I haven’t wanted to, yet. Tonight, I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

America’s brows pulled together. “Fine. Plan B. Poker night?”

“Very funny.”

Harmony’s face lit up. “I saw a flyer for movie night tonight at Honeymoon Beach! They bring a screen right on the water.”

America made a face. “Boring.”

“No, I think it sounds fun. When does it start?”

Harmony checked her watch, and then her face fell, deflated. “In fifteen minutes.”

“We can make it!” I said, grabbing my purse. “Check please!”

Travis

“Calm your tits, dude,” Shepley said. He looked down at my fingers nervously beating against the metal armrest. We had landed safely and taxied in, but for whatever
reason they weren’t ready to let us off yet. Everyone was quietly waiting for that one, tiny
ding
that meant freedom. Something about the
ding
of the fasten seat belt light
that made everyone jump up and scramble to get their carry-on luggage and stand in line. I actually had a reason to be in a hurry, though, so the wait was particularly irritating.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” I said, maybe a little too loud. A woman in front of us with a grade-school-age kid turned slowly to give me a look. “Sorry.” She faced
forward in a huff.

I looked down at my watch. “We’re going to be late.”

“No we’re not,” Shepley said in his typical smooth and calming voice. “We’ve still got plenty of time.”

I stretched to the side, looking down the aisle, as if that would help. “The flight attendants haven’t moved. Wait, one is on the phone.”

“That’s a good sign.”

I sat upright and sighed. “We’re gonna be late.”

“No. We’re not. You just miss her.”

“I do,” I said. I knew that I looked pitiful and I wasn’t even going to attempt to hide it. This was the first time Abby and I had spent a night apart since before we were
married, and it was miserable. Even after a year, I still looked forward to when she’d wake up in the morning. I even missed her when I slept.

Shepley shook his head in disapproval. “Remember when you used to give me so much shit for acting like this?”

“You didn’t love them the way I love her.”

Shepley smiled. “You really happy, man?”

“As much as I loved her back then, I love her even more, now. Like the way Dad used to talk about Mom.”

Shepley smiled and then opened his mouth to respond, but the fasten seat belt light dinged, sending everyone into a flurry of standing up, reaching up, and getting situated in the aisle.

The mother in front of me smiled. “Congratulations,” she said. “Sounds like you have it figured out more than most people.”

The line began to move. “Not really. We just had a lot of hard lessons early on.”

“Lucky you,” she said, guiding her son down the aisle.

I laughed once, thinking about all the fuckups and letdowns, but she was right. If I had to do it all over again, I’d rather endure the pain in the beginning than have had it easy and then
have it all go to shit later on.

Shepley and I rushed to baggage claim, got our luggage, and then hurried outside to catch a cab. I was surprised to see a man in a black suit holding a dry erase board with
MADDOX PARTY
scribbled in red marker.

“Hey,” I said.

“Mistah Maddox?” he said, smiling wide.

“That’s us.”

“I’m Mistah Gumbs. Right this way.” He took my larger bag and led us outside to a black Cadillac Escalade. “You’re staying at the Ritz-Carlton, yeah?”

“Yes,” Shepley said.

We loaded the trunk with the rest of the bags, and then sat in the middle row of seats.

“Score,” Shepley said, looking around.

The driver took off, buzzing up and down hills, and around curves, all on the wrong side of the road. It was confusing, because the wheel was on the same side as ours.

“Glad we didn’t rent a car,” I said.

“Yes, the majority of accidents here are caused by tourists.”

“I bet,” Shepley said.

“It’s not hard. Just remember you are closest to the curb,” he said, karate-chopping the air with his left hand.

He continued giving us a minitour, pointing out different things along the way. The palm trees made me feel enough out of our element, but the cars parked on the left side of the road were
really messing with my head. Large hills seemed to touch the sky, peppered with little white specks—what I assumed were hillside houses.

“That’s Havensight Mall, there,” Mr. Gumbs said. “Where all the cruise ships dock, see?”

I saw the big ships, but I couldn’t stop staring at the water. I’d never seen water such a pure blue before. I guess that’s why they call it Caribbean blue. It was fucking
unbelievable. “How close are we?”

“Gettin’ there,” Mr. Gumbs said with a happy grin.

Right on cue, the Cadillac slowed to a stop to wait for oncoming traffic, and then we pulled into a long drive. He slowed once more for a security booth, we were waved in, and then we continued
on another long drive to the entrance of the hotel.

“Thanks!” Shepley said. He tipped the driver, and then pulled out his cell phone, quickly tapping on the screen. His phone made a kiss noise—must have been America. He read the
message and then nodded. “Looks like you and I go to Mare’s room, and they’re getting ready in yours.”

I made a face. “That’s . . . odd.”

“I guess they don’t want you to see Abby, yet.”

I shook my head and smiled. “She was that way last time.”

A hotel employee showed us to a golf cart, and then he drove us to our building. We followed him to the correct room, and then we walked inside. It was very . . . tropical, fancy Ritz-Carlton
tropical.

“This’ll do!” Shepley said, all smiles.

I frowned. “The ceremony is in two hours. I have to wait two hours?”

Shepley held up a finger, tapped on his phone, and then looked up. “Nope. You can see her when she’s ready. Per Abby. Apparently she misses you, too.”

A wide grin spread across my face. I couldn’t help it. Abby had that effect on me, eighteen months ago, a year ago, now, and for the rest of my life. I pulled out my cell phone.

I laughed out loud. I’d said before that Abby was my everything. For the last 365 days straight, she’d proved that to be true.

Someone pounded on the door, and I walked over to open it.

Trent’s face lit up. “Asshat!”

I laughed once, shook my head, and motioned for my brothers to come in. “Get in here, you fuckin’ heathens. I’ve got a wife waiting, and a tux with my name on it.”

A
year to the day after I stood at the end of an aisle in Vegas, I found myself waiting for Abby again, this time in a gazebo overlooking the rich
blue waters surrounding St. Thomas. I pulled at my bow tie, pleased that I had been smart enough not to wear one last time, but I also didn’t have to deal with America’s
“vision” last time.

White chairs with orange and purple ribbons tied around their backs sat empty on one side, the ocean sat on the other. White fabric lined the aisle Abby would walk down, and orange and purple
flowers were pretty much everywhere I looked. They did a nice job. I still preferred our first wedding, but this looked more like what any girl would dream of.

And then, what any boy would dream of stepped out from behind a row of trees and bushes. Abby stood alone, empty-handed, a long, white veil streaming from her half-up, half-down hair, blowing in
the warm Caribbean breeze. Her long, white dress was form fitting and a little shiny. Probably satin. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care. All I could focus on was her.

I jumped the four steps that led up to the gazebo and jogged to my wife, meeting her at the back row of chairs.

“Oh my God! I’ve missed you like hell!” I said, wrapping her in my arms.

Abby’s fingers pressed into my back. It was the best thing I’d felt in three days, since I’d hugged her good-bye.

Abby didn’t speak, she just giggled nervously, but I could tell she was happy to see me, too. The last year had been so different from the first six months of our relationship. She had
totally committed to me, and I had totally committed to being the man she deserved. It was better, and life was good. The first six months, I kept waiting for something bad to happen that would rip
her away from me, but after that we settled into our new life.

“You are amazingly beautiful,” I said after pulling back to get a better look.

Abby reached to touch my lapel. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Maddox.”

After a few kisses, hugs, and stories about our bachelor/bachelorette parties (which seemed to be equally uneventful—except for the whole Trent stripper thing), the guests began to trickle
in.

“Guess that means we should get in our places,” Abby said. I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I didn’t want to be without her for another second. Abby touched my jaw and
then rose up on her feet to kiss my cheek. “See you in a bit.”

She walked off, disappearing behind the trees again.

I returned to the gazebo, and before long the chairs were all filled. We actually had an audience this time. Pam sat on the bride’s side in the first row, with her sister and
brother-in-law. A handful of my Sigma Tau brothers lined the back row, with my dad’s old partner and his wife and kids, my boss Chuck and his girlfriend of the week, both sets of
America’s grandparents, and my Uncle Jack and Aunt Deana. My dad sat in the first row of the groom’s side, keeping my brothers’ dates company. Shepley stood as my best man, and my
groomsmen, Thomas, Taylor, Tyler, and Trent, stood next to him.

We’d all seen another year pass, we’d all been through so much, in some cases lost so much, and yet come together as a family to celebrate something that had gone right for the
Maddoxes. I smiled and nodded at the men standing with me. They were still the impenetrable fortress I remembered from my childhood.

My eyes focused on trees in the distance as I waited for my wife. Any second now she would step out and everyone could see what I saw a year before, and find themselves in awe, just like I
was.