She was rusty, but still proud of it. If only the baby had needed a snappy, brand-friendly logo whipped up in Photoshop! She would have crushed it. But this was good, too. She was sure of it.
“That’s the sun there, and the clouds. It’s coming up over rolling hills. It’s a little abstract, I know.”
“No,” he assured her, “it’s incredible. I can’t remember the last time I saw you paint something. Almost forgot how talented you are. Now I remember. Why a sunrise?”
“Because this room needed something,” she said flatly. “And because…I wanted to always be reminded that tomorrow is always coming, and it is beautiful.”
“And what if we don’t stay here? What if they have to come paint over it one day?”
She shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever. But that’s OK.”
“Hey,” he said, offering his hands and helping her off the ground. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Can you put the bassinet back? I want to see how it looks.”
He walked across the room to where Wren had stashed itand slid it up against the wall, perfectly centered on the mural. It made a world of difference. Things felt right now. The room was warm, colorful. The type of welcome to the world that a baby deserved.
“Now,” she said, “you almost ready to go?”
They brought the go bags just in case.
Though the reception would be at the National Aquarium, the ceremony itself was held at a quaint little church in the city without much parking. They were almost late as Arthur tried to negotiate parallel parking between a couple of hulking pickup trucks, trying desperately to not block the fire hydrant that was stationed right there.
“I can get out and help guide you,” she’d said.
“I’ve got it, just relax,” he said, putting a hand on the back of her headrest and craning his neck to see backward, even palming the wheel as he spun it round. He was becoming such a dad already.
Once inside, Wren only got a quick, prison-length visitation with Charlie before the ceremony was set to begin.
“You look so beautiful,” she told her friend, standing outside the claustrophobic little dressing room the church referred to as a bridal suite. It smelled like hair spray and warm mimosas.
“So do you. I really wish you could be up with the rest of the bridal party, but it would ruin the photos.”
“Thanks! Appreciate it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know,” Wren said. “Wrong dress and everything.”
“And you’re the size of a manatee.”
“I would slug you right in your perfect face if I wasn’t afraid I’d topple over.”
Wren kissed her on her cheek and sent Charlie on her way, the comically long white dress dragging behind her. She knew she’d see Charlie again in a few minutes, and then at the reception after. But something would definitely be different between them when she did. Tonight was the end of an unofficial era, an era that started with two single best friends in college having debauched misadventures together. Even when they settled down with Arthur and Tristan, respectively, it still felt like Wren and Charlie’s world. The boys were on an extended probationary period to determine if they’d be allowed in. With Charlie tying the knot, and Wren waiting for the right moment to give Arthur his own ring back, the club would be permanently expanding.
Wren and Arthur sat and watched the wedding party walk down the aisle to the soundtrack of some pop country song Wren couldn’t quite place, wedding-ed up with violins and harps.
The ceremony was held in the church’s back garden, lined with rosebushes and beautifully trimmed hedges. The sun was just beginning to dip, giving the light a soft, warm quality that Wren knew would be harnessed into incredible photographs. It was a desktop background come to life.
But…it was hot as hell.
Arthur leaned over. “You doing OK?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You just look a little…dewy, that’s all. If you’re not up for this, just say the word and we can leave.”
Wren wiped at her forehead. Pretty sweaty. That early fall sun was blasting her directly in the face on its way to making the perfect picturesque sunset.
