Authors: Barbara Bretton
“So what's the problem?” her father demanded. “The man is giving up the Hamptons to live in Lakeside. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.”
She couldn't argue the point. They had it all: love and friendship and great sex and in a handful of minutes they were going to say their vows in front of everyone who mattered to them and become a real live family.
So why was she still waiting for the other shoe to drop?
Finn had teased her that an entire warehouse of shoes could drop and she would still find something else to worry about. She had laughed at his joke but a small secret part of her wouldn't have minded the fall of at least one sandal, just to prove this was still her life. She thought of it as the worrier's equivalent of a good-luck charm.
The weather was beautiful. The paparazzi hadn't found them. Michael was far away in the Bahamas. Lizzie loved Finn almost as much as Hayley did. Jane was still with them. CeCe and Fee had given one another a wide berth. Her siblings were there to celebrate with her and so far Lou hadn't tried to extort parking fees from any of the guests.
Things were as close to perfect as any bride could wish.
Too perfect,
she thought as Tommy took her arm and they made their way down the beach to where the wedding party was gathered together, bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Perfect wasn't normal. She and Michael had had a perfect wedding and see how that had ended up.
A couple of raindrops. A short-lived family argument. A seagull with great aim. Something,
anything
, to take the edge off and turn fate's attention away from her happily-ever-after ending and onto something less important, like world peace or global warming.
Tommy's cousin Bobby, a priest from South Jersey, smiled at her as she and Tommy approached the temporary altar some fifty feet from the water's edge. Anton, Finn's best man, smiled at her too. Lizzie and Jane and John and Willow and Aunt Fee all beamed at her. Everywhere she looked she saw familiar faces with big happy smiles aimed in her direction.
But where was Finn?
She scanned all of those familiar faces, looked right, looked left, and just as she was about to look for a runaway groom in a rowboat, the crowd parted and she saw Finn, barefoot and in a tux, next to a mountain of shoes.
Manolo sandals. Crocs. Flip-flops. A pair of bowling shoes. Wingtips. Sneakers with candy-striped laces. Penny loafers. Dominatrix boots she would have a few questions about later on. Tommy's platforms from the '70s. A tiny pair of Amanda's Mary Janes.
A mountain of Madagascar vanilla beans couldn't have made her happier.
“I did the calculations,” Finn said, “and the way I see it, these should get us through to our golden anniversary.”
She started to laugh. “
You
did the calculations?” Finn had many talents but math wasn't among them.
He winked at Lizzie, who was laughing too. “Okay, so maybe I had a little help but the research is sound.”
The beach, the altar, family and friends, everything and everybody faded away until nothing remained but the incredibly silly, incredibly wonderful mountain of shoes and the man she loved.
She did the only logical thing she could do under the circumstances: she thrust her bouquet into his hands, gathered up her skirts, then took off toward the water with Finn and the entire guest list on her heels.
She stopped at the water's edge and glanced at Finn over her shoulder. “That will never get us to our fiftieth.”
Lizzie opened her mouth to protest but Finn played along. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she said as she slipped off her shoes, “but I know what will!”
Willow shrieked, “Those are Manolos!” as Hayley spun the shoes overhead by their slender ivory straps, then sent them sailing out into the ocean. They landed with a pricey splash, then disappeared beneath the waves, taking the last of her worries with them.
Ten minutes later Father Bobby said the words everyone had been waiting to hear.
“Fifty years,” she whispered to Finn as their friends and family cheered. “How does that sound?”
He looked at Lizzie and winked, then swept Hayley into his arms.
“Like a good start,” her husband said.