Page 62 of Wedding or Not

So our wedding is scheduled for the first Saturday in August.

I would have expected the weeks to drag, but they don’t. There’s been so much to do that I barely have a spare moment to breathe, much less brood over my relationship with Wes.

He’s been pleasant and dry and controlled whenever I spend time with him, which isn’t much because I’m so busy with wedding plans.

It’s not only the actual planning that leads to the whirlwind of activity. It’s all the partnerships and collaborations Natalie is arranging with wedding influencers and businesses.

The publicity we’re getting is off the charts. We’ve had to raise our prices astronomically for everyone who doesn’t get our friends-and-family discount (locals and previous customers). The higher pricing is the only way to keep from getting swamped by inquiries and requests.

Our social media has ballooned to ridiculous proportions. Natalie actually had to hire a friend of hers to do part-time work, helping her manage the accounts.

And our daily visitors to the garden have doubled—so much that our weekends are always at full capacity. People even drive from distances to visit for the day. The local businesses have all testified that they’ve had a significant boost as well.

The Plan might be silly—even ridiculous—but it’s done a lot more than help my family. It’s been a gift to the entire town.

Whenever I start to question myself or get slightly hurt by Wes pulling back when I want him to get closer, I remind myself of that fact.

I might have started off the downward slide for Blossom Park, but I’m also helping to bring it back to life again.

The morning of the wedding is warm and sticky.

I’ve checked the weather a million times this week, and there’s been no sign of rain in the forecast. There might be some clouds, but they won’t get in the way.

I wake up at four in the morning because we’ve decided something quite daring for our wedding ceremony, something that might really make a statement.

We’re getting married at sunrise.

I went to the salon with all five of my sisters yesterday so we could get manicures and pedicures. I also got waxed and plucked and beautified with a facial and skin wrap. So all I have to do this morning is my hair, makeup, and dress.

At five thirty, Natalie is finishing up my hair, which we’re leaving down in big, beachy waves with a few sweet peas pinned in. Audrey is sitting next to me and offering matter-of-fact encouragement anytime my nerves get out of control, and the younger girls are fluttering around, being annoying.

I’d like to send them away, but I wouldn’t hurt their feelings for the world.

When there’s a tap on the door, Aunt Grace comes in, looking gorgeous with her long white hair loose, in a soft, flowing dress in a dusty rose, a darker version of the color my sisters are wearing as the bridesmaids.

Grace has been up since three to make sure the event spaces are all perfect. She sends out the younger girls by telling them it’s time to put on their dresses and get their bouquets, and then she waits for Natalie to finish my hair before she says, “Can I talk to Ella alone for a minute?”

“We need to get our dresses on too,” Audrey says, standing up and smoothing down her hair. We’ve all decided on natural looks for our hair, so hers, a lighter brown than mine, is straight and shiny, hanging down to her waist. “We’ll see you down there.” She hesitates. Then leans over to give me a quick, careful hug.

Natalie does the same before she leaves too.

I get up to face Aunt Grace. “You think I’m making a mistake?” I ask since her face has gotten serious.

“No.” She shakes her head and steps closer. “Of course not. I love Wes, and you couldn’t choose better. But I want to hear from you again that you’re making a free choice.”

“Of course I am! You don’t think Wes would try to bully me into⁠—”

“Not at all. But sometimes I wonder if you might bully yourself. Because you’ve always taken responsibility for the family—even when the responsibility wasn’t yours. We’re doing fine. Even if we didn’t have the boost from you going viral, we still would have been okay. Everyone is fed and safe and happy. You don’t have to do this.”

Her earnestness touches me since she’s always had a breezy gentleness that avoids intense emotions.

My eyes burn slightly, but my makeup has been done to perfection by Natalie. Soft and natural and flattering. I’m not going to mess it up with tears right now.

“Your mom and dad would be so proud of you for everything you’ve done to take care of us, but you don’t have to do this.”

Oh no.

I blink and sniff and turn away momentarily to compose myself.