Mother’s gone all out with decorating the place. She pulled a couple of strings and made calls to old friends in preparation for the big day. She apparently used to go to school with the town’s florist. I don’t think there’s an inch of this place that isn’t covered in flowers. I don’t even know what kinds they are. They smell pretty and they look nice, a sea of white, pink, and red petals lining the walls, the edges of the stage, and along the backs of chairs. There’s even an arch up on stage, flowers weaving in and out to create a truly stunning centerpiece.
The whole theater smells sweet, like I’ve stepped right into an open field. There’s an ecstatic buzz in the air, the sound of soft chatter rising to echo off the room’s tall walls and ceiling. We’ve got the house lights on, so the whole room is nice and warm for our guests.
We don’t have to worry too much about the seating because there are already rows upon rows of red foam theater chairs set up in front of the giant stage. The live band we’ve hired is set up in the orchestral pit, playing a couple of jazzy tunes while our guests file in and take their seats.
Mother and A-Ma are sitting next to one another in the front row, little Jacob sound asleep in Mother’s arms. His grandmothers are both fawning over him and the mini tuxedo he’s dressed up in. I have to admit he looks absolutely adorable. I’ve already snapped several hundred photos of him in his tux before arriving at the ceremony, effectively using up all the memory on my phone.
Mother’s wearing a purple knee-length dress, a stark difference to the normal blacks and dark blues she’s so used to wearing. Color suits her much better, gives life to her presence. There are a few more streaks in her hair, but she appears more youthful than ever. A-Ma is dressed in a red dress—it’s good luck, she explains—with her hair all done up with her finest jewelry on.
I gaze at them both, marveling how at first glance, they look like they’re the oldest of friends. I’m proud of how far Mother’s come in that regard. She’s beginning to branch out, come out of her shell. For the first time in ten years, she no longer looks like she’s in mourning. There’s a bounce in her step, an optimistic air about her.
I’m up on stage next to the reverend, shifting my weight from foot to foot in an attempt to expend some of this nervous energy building up within my gut. On one hand, I’m nervous. I don’t want to say or do anything to embarrass myself. The hot spotlights overhead make me feel like I’m under a microscope. It’s kind of fascinating to see the world how Eve sees it. I wonder how she doesn’t get nervous when looking out into the audience, a sea of eyes trained on her every move.
And on the other hand, I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life. I’m exactly where I need to be. Exactly where I want to be. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind, not even a whisper of hesitation in my thoughts. I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in my whole life.
The music shifts into the slower, sweeping notes of the bridal march. Our guests stand as the large doors leading into the theater swing open. A long line of flower girls make their way down the aisle, all dressed in cute pink dresses and flower crowns sitting upon their heads. They’re all the girls from Eve’s ballet class. At the end of the line is the only boy Eve teaches, Alexander. He’s in a tailored suit of his own, hair swept to the side and kept in place with a healthy amount of styling gel.
He wears a serious expression, holding a pillow of navy blue velvet out in front of him like a serving tray. Sitting atop the pillow are our wedding bands. The boy follows his classmates up the steep steps onto the stage and walks up to me, standing just to my side like a statue. It’s nice to know he takes his job so seriously.
At last, two people walk in through the doors, arm in arm.
Pops guides Eve in, stepping in time with the music. He holds his head up high, proud to show off his daughter-in-law. He’s taken his finest suit out of storage, having spent a fortune on dry cleaning to look just so. Pops is always cheerful, but today he’s brimming with delight.
My gaze is drawn to her like a magnet. I hold my breath, so stunned that my body’s automatic functions glitch. I forget to blink, my mind blanks. There aren’t any words I can use to describe how beautiful she is.