"Hey," I growl. "Don't talk about my wedding night like that."
The boys get the picture. And besides, my father and my grandfather are walking over with silver flasks of whiskey. "Do you need a strong drink before you say I do?" my dad asks.
I take a pull on what he offers because it seems like a gentlemanly thing to do, and my grandfather slips me an envelope.
"Something for a nest egg," he says. "Congratulations, grandson. I'm really proud of you."
"Thanks, Gramps," I say, appreciating Grandpa Reynolds in ways he may never understand. His integrity and honor are part of the reason us boys are all standing here today.
He taught my father what it meant to be a real man. And my father showed us boys what that meant too. And now, well, now I'm ready to really man up and become a husband. Abby's husband. Damn. I think it's time.
Everyone I know and love in town is here. My Rowdy cousins from Burly have come, and my other grandpa, Crockett, is here. My Uncle Angus showed up too. Somehow most of them are in ties and suit coats to boot. Though I know my mother had plenty to do with that. Their mama, my aunt Dolly who died a long time ago, was my mom’s best friend and ended up her sister-in-law. Now, Mom makes it her mission to make sure the Rowdy boys are looked after to some degree, in respect for Dolly. I know if my aunt Dolly were alive, she’d be the one singing at my wedding today because she had the voice of an angel, and everyone in this town knew it.
Well, the Rowdy boys may be in suits and ties, but they're wearing their cowboy boots – which I’m sure would actually make their mama proud, truth be told. I smile, shaking their hands, all of us clapping one another on the backs.
And then it's time to walk my mother down the aisle. We have a local harpist playing in the corner. There are flowers everywhere. I don't even know where Fig and Lemon and Abby found so many flowers in February, but they did. And everything's red and pink and white because, well, it's February 14th. Somehow I'm getting married on the most romantic day of the year, which, well, Abby wanted it so I was going to give it to her.
"You look so handsome, Bart," my mom says, holding my hand as I walk her down the aisle.
"Well, you look pretty beautiful yourself, Mom," I say.
"You know, I didn't think you’d get swept off your feet so fast. You were always the sensible brother. You know that? But..."
"What?" I ask.
"You also are a momma's boy."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No," she says. "It means you're sensitive in ways your other brothers aren't. And it means Abby's really lucky to have you, Bartlett."
When we reach her seat, I give my mom a big old hug. I kiss her cheek and I tell her how much I love her. "So damn much," I say.
"I love you too, sweetheart. Now go make me proud."
"I will," I tell her.
I take my place next to Pastor Andy, and I watch as my sisters walk down the aisle.
I decided not to have any groomsmen because, well, they were all going to be groomsmen – all those brothers of mine. So I figured we'd keep it simple. The girls wanted a chance to wear pretty dresses, and so we decided to give them that.
But the real showstopper, the real reason we're here, well, besides the cake and the champagne and the dancing that's going to come later and the wedding night that's going to come after that, is so we can see Abby as she walks down the aisle.
Her dress is long, white, satin, strapless, and designed by Fig. Abby had one request, that she could dance in it. God, I can’t wait to spin my wife around the dance floor of this barn.
When she comes down the aisle, everyone turns, everyone stands, and they look at the most beautiful woman in the room. And she is. Abracadabra. She is a sight to be seen. My heart skips about a dozen beats and my eyes, they well up with tears. And when I take a good, hard look at her, I know like I knew before – she’s the one for me. She makes me feel alive and known and seen. Like I'm home.
I watch her take those steps down the aisle, holding that bouquet of pink and red roses, thinking she looks so delicate and loving that for her because I know for a woman who's been through so many hard times, the chance to feel soft, to feel special, means a whole awful lot.
She hands the roses to Fig and takes her place beside me. Her hands are in my hands, and her heart, well, I'm holding it tight too. Pastor Andy asks us to recite our vows,to have and to hold from this day forward, through sickness and in health.
The words are easy to say. The promises are ones I know I can keep because Abby, she's my wife. She's my best friend and she's my forever.
"I do," she says.
"I do," I repeat.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Pastor Andy says. "You may kiss the bride."