Never the Bride (31 page)

Malia takes my hand. “Let’s get you married.”

We trail into the small foyer that leads into the sanctuary. The doors are closed. Two men in tuxedos, Jonathan’s friends, stand by each door, ready to open on cue. I hear the music play. My eyes swell with tears. I can’t believe, after all this time, it’s
my
time and
my
day and
my life.

I watch Malia, the first bridesmaid, walk down the aisle in a deep purple bridesmaid dress. Okay, yes, and matching shoes. I couldn’t resist. Then Nicole. Brooklyn takes her place and looks back at me, grinning. “You are beautiful.” Tears stream down her face. “And I don’t mean just on the outside.” She then turns and walks, her head held high, proud to be my maid of honor.

The doors close so the crowd can’t see me yet. Jonathan’s two friends smile admiringly at me. I look to my right. I know He will be there. And He is, standing stoic in His white tuxedo. “This is it.”

He nods. “This is it.”

I feel His gentle arm at my elbow, guiding me as the two men open the doors for me. I step forward, right into the doorway. Most everyone is still watching Brooklyn as she makes her way to the front, but near the back is Blake. Alone? I smile brightly at him, and he smiles
back, but with a hint of sadness. Perhaps he knows that I have a new best friend and new person to fill my heart. I want to rush to him, hug him, tell him to trust God. But I feel a nudge.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

He knows that I never intended to run down this aisle. Nope. I was going to walk, take my time, make the guy wait.

I laugh and then grab my dress, hike it up a foot, and start running down the aisle toward Jonathan, whose face lights up with surprise. The guests roar with laughter as I pass. What it must look like to see a bride flying by! My veil has to be flapping behind me like a cape.

I reach the altar, a little out of breath. Jonathan is nearly belly-laughing at me as he pulls me next to him. The pastor looks horribly confused but is nevertheless stretching a smile across his face.

“Okay This brides in a hurry, isn’t she?” He offers me a grin.

“Yes to everything. Yes, yes. Yes!”

The pastor looks baffled again.

Jonathan laughs, shakes his head, and sort of nods apologetically to the pastor. He puts an arm around me and pulls me close. “You’re awesome.”

Pastor Landry opens his little black book and puts an authoritative tone into his voice as he begins. “We are gathered here today to see this man and this woman wedded in holy matrimo—”

Gosh, I’m impatient. I turn, grab Jonathan’s face and kiss him. And kiss him again. And before I know it, I’ve melted into his arms, and the world around me has vanished.

Until the pastor clears his throat.

I slowly release Jonathan, and he releases me. We laugh and so do the guests.

Pastor Landry raises an eyebrow.

“What do you expect?” I declare. “I’m
finally
the bride!”

I couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather. We decided to hold the reception at our new home, out back on the grassy hillside that overlooks the ocean. The breeze from the water washes over all of us.

Jonathan holds me tightly as we dance to “I Only Have Eyes for You.” He dances just like God, or maybe God dances just like him. Whatever the case, the moves are familiar and I let him guide me. It’s nice to be directed.

“I love you,” I say. “I hope you like greeting cards.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a sack of about fifty that I’ve been saving my whole life to give to you.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he says.

We finish the dance, and I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn. It’s Officer Garrety and his partner Lakeland.

“Hello, Officers.”

“I should arrest you,” Garrety says to me.

My heart skips. “Huh?”

“It should be illegal to be this happy.” He smiles.

Lakeland gives a goofy smile. “Of all the criminals I met, I was hoping you’d be the one that ended up turning out okay.”

I laugh. Me, a criminal. That’s funny.

Jonathan squeezes me. “I’m going to go mingle with guests.”

“All right. I’ll be right there,” I say, leaning to the side for a better view of something that catches my eye. Brooklyn is chatting with the old man in the white tuxedo. God, my
Father.
My hand finds my heart as I watch the two interact. She’s engaged and at ease with Him. I stand there for I don’t know how long, just watching them, longing a little to be with Him again like that.

Two arms wrap around me. “Come on. It’s time for us to go.”

My body tingles with excitement as I take Jonathan’s hand. He leads me through the house and to the front. The guests are lining the sidewalk that leads to the veranda, ready to throw—I laugh as I see it—miniature M&M’s.

A horse-drawn carriage awaits us. The driver stands at attention.

Everyone is smiling and cheering.

“You ready?” Jonathan asks.

“Almost. Just a second.” I walk forward a little to where Brooklyn is standing, clutching her bag of M&M’s. “Thank you for standing up for me today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I saw that guy you were talking to during the entire reception.”

Brooklyn’s face lights up. “I know! Wasn’t he hot?”

“Hot? The old guy?”

“Come on, he’s not
that
old, for heaven’s sake. I mean, if thirty’s old then you’re ancient, Sis.
Loved the
spiky blond hair. And his eyes. Can’t even describe his eyes.” She looks at me. “Don’t look so worried. Goodness. It’s not like he proposed. I mean, we were just getting to know each other. He was very respectful. You just don’t find that quality
in a lot of men these days.” She pulls me into a hug. “I love you, Sis. My whole life I thought we were so different. But you know what?” she whispers. “I want what you have.”

“Somehow, I think you might just get it.”

I step back next to Jonathan. He looks down at me. “So are we going to walk like two civilized people, or should we bolt like crazed, in-love maniacs?”

“I vote for maniacs.”

“Then let’s do it!”

Hand in hand, we race past the M&M’s and our family and friends. We climb into the carriage and wave as it pulls away. I notice the sunset over the water.

“Look at that,” I say to Jonathan, leaning in to him.

“It’s like it was designed just for us, just for our day.”

“I think it might’ve just been.”