“The flowers are aggressive.”
Emma wrapped her arms around both of us.
Clara joined from the other side.
For several seconds, I disappeared into a knot of perfume, hair, and damp eyes.
“Uncle Reid too,” Clara ordered.
Reid submitted.
The group hug became less structurally sound.
Marlowe barked once, then pushed his head between our legs.
Marian checked her watch.
“This is touching. Everyone downstairs.”
The ceremony was held in the sail loft.
Not the polished event hall Marian had suggested.
Not the rented greenhouse Leah found online.
The loft where Reid and I had first kissed beneath the green navigation lamp during a storm.
The place had changed over the years.
Insulation hid the old corrugated walls. New windows overlooked the harbor. The worktables had been moved downstairs, and the floorboards had been restored without sanding away every scar. Strings of small amber lights crossed the beams. Cedar branches, winter roses, and white berries framed the broad doors facing the water.
The green lamp remained above the stairwell.
We had insisted.
Guests filled rows of mismatched wooden chairs borrowed from three businesses and a church that Marian claimed had asked no questions.
There were no separate sides.
No bride’s family and groom’s family.
Only people who had chosen to sit with us.
Caleb and Erin occupied the front row with their nearly two-year-old son, Jamie, asleep across Caleb’s chest. Morgan sat beside them, home from university and wearing green streaks in her hair that made her father look mildly distressed.
Owen and Talia sat across the aisle. Talia was in the final month of pregnancy and had told everyone she would deliver during the vows if the ceremony exceeded twenty minutes.
Marian had reduced it to eighteen.
Elias and Miriam sat beside Leah and the girls.
Miriam wore dark violet and looked at us with the unmistakable pride of a mother who had never required the title.
Trevor Hale came from Portland. Maeve sat near Priya and Dr. Whitcomb, who had promised not to assess my neurological status unless I walked into a wall.
There were yard customers, Harbor Transit managers, neighbors, and the family we had gathered from ordinary loyalty.
My mother was not there.
