Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
He smiles back, and the two of them line up behind Jamie and my dad.
The music notes climb up my spine, breaking out as chills across my back. And suddenly I’m not ready. Jesus. My baby brother is getting married, and Wes’s mom made the right choice at the last minute. The music is really pretty, my eyes are hot, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
I’m getting all gooey, and the wedding hasn’t even started yet.
“Deep breath, Jessie,” Blake murmurs. “Everything is fine.”
He’s right. It is. But there’s no time to agree.
With a gentle firmness, he takes my arm and leads me to the front of the group. There is nothing ahead of me but the pretty green grass of the aisle. The guests turn and look toward us.
This is it. I’ve been planning this for three months. I hope I’ve pulled it off. Maybe I’m about to get my period, because I’m drowning in emotions right now. And so much could still go wrong…
“Ready, and…” Blake whispers.
I step forward with him. Once. Twice.
Just as people turn to watch us, he actually grabs my butt.
It must be divine intervention that I manage not to shriek. Instead, I do a sort of awkward shimmy that almost takes me down onto the grass, but I recover quickly. “Oh my God,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth. “Why do you torture me?”
“You looked a little glassy-eyed. Needed to make sure you wouldn’t faint on me. Better now?”
If I had a knife, he’d be dead right now.
We walk down the aisle together, and I hope the photographer doesn’t capture my feral smile.
We reach the podium and, right on cue, we take our places on opposite sides of the minister. We turn to forty-five degrees just as we’d rehearsed, and I give Blake a death stare. He smiles kindly at me.
When I look at the crowd, they’re all watching Jamie, Wes, and my parents. The four of them look radiant. My parents take their seats, my brother arrives at my side a few moments later, and I give him a little unrehearsed hug because I can’t help myself.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister begins, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two very special young men…”
My attention is drawn to a sniffle in the front row. Oh boy. It’s Dyson. He pulls an embroidered handkerchief out of his breast pocket and blows his nose. Loudly.
The pastor makes some introductions and then invites my mother up to read Emily Dickinson’s poem “Forever—is composed of Nows.”
It’s beautiful, but the poem takes me too deeply inside my own head. It reminds me that I need to move forward with my own forever by getting the now part right.
My brother Joe reads a Walt Whitman poem, and then my sister stands up for her reading. She carries baby Lilac up to the podium, and everyone says, “Awww.”
Smiling, Tammy reads a bit of the judge’s ruling that overturned Proposition 8 in California. “Marriage under law is a union of equals,” she finishes, and the audience claps.
I sneak a glance at Wes’s mother. She’s clapping politely. I can’t imagine what’s in her head right now as she watches my big, wild family applauding the addition of her son to our clan.
The last thing that happens before the vows is that the cellist plays an Irish tune while my tiny nephew Ty wobbles down the aisle carrying the rings. He gets about halfway there when he sort of stumbles to a halt, then looks around himself, as if unsure what he’s supposed to do next.
Jamie steps out, positioning himself so that he’s centered on the aisle, then crouches down. “Over here, little man,” he says.
Ty’s round face lights up, and he starts again, walking toward his uncle Jamie in his little suit jacket and clip-on tie. Everyone melts, and not just because they’re sitting in the sun.
Jamie takes the rings from Ty and then picks him up, handing him to his daddy in the front row.
When Jamie is back in position, facing Wes, the pastor asks them to join hands. From where I’m standing, I can’t really see my brother’s face, but I can see Ryan Wesley perfectly. As a rule, he’s not a solemn or serious guy. But right now, his expression is full of awe.
The minister introduces the vows portion of the ceremony and then begins with my brother. “I, James,” she says, “take you, Ryan, to be my friend and husband.”
“I, James,” my beautiful brother echoes, “take you, Ryan, to be my friend and husband.”
“To be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of perfect health.”
My brother repeats the vow.
“In times of joy and inevitable sorrow, in times of failure and in times of glory, I promise to cherish and respect you, to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay by your side forever.”