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“She knows three languages too!” Lizzie adds in helpfully.
“Tomorrow?” I ask. I feel like I’m zoning out while reading a book, ending up going back to the beginning of the same sentence again and again. I’m seeing the words, but they're not making it through to my brain. “We’re getting married tomorrow?”
“And then a late honeymoon in France. How does that sound?”
I look around our little house. We’ve been making it so far, but the grind has never ended. If our movie is a hit at Cannes, that could all change. More importantly, it wouldn’t just change for Cory or Lizzie or me; it would change for us. As a family.
A real family.
I’m crying again, and Lizzie has jumped up into Cory’s arms. They’re looking at me. Waiting for an answer.
“It sounds like we don’t have much time to waste.”
Chapter 30
Lizzie walks ahead of me, throwing pink rose petals on the white strip of fabric spread across the beach. At the end is an archway made of woven branches interspersed with bunches of yellow freesia.
The dress I found at a local boutique is perfect. Understated but classy. It starts with a low-neck that wraps around my upper arms, and it ends just halfway down my calves. It’s far from traditional, but what about our life has been traditional?
Our only witnesses are Sarah and Joan. They wait on either side of the arch. Cory stands in the middle just in front of the officiant, who’s dressed in beach shorts and a simple, collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Cory’s in a tux but no shoes. And he’s watching me with all the love in the world.
Sarah has come through for me once more. When Cory first told me not to worry about any of the wedding planning because she was going to take care of everything, I have to admit that a pang of worry stabbed me. Sarah has always struck me as flashy, from the wild dresses she wears to the Oscars each year to the car she drives. Any wedding planned by her should be an extension of this mood, but today is nothing like what I expected. Instead of a ritzy place she’s managed to rent out at the last minute, we’re at a strip of beach within a stone’s throw from Cory’s old place. This is the same place we walked that first evening in California, where the three of us played in the water.
About the only thing she’s added to the landscape is this white fabric I’m walking down that’s lined with tall silver vases, huge bouquets sprouting forth from them. And at the end, the arch where they all wait for me.
Once Lizzie has exhausted her flower petals, she scurries around to Sarah’s side. Then time loses all meaning.
It’s like I’m in a car crash where everything is happening too fast for my brain to process. Only this isn’t a crash; it’s the result of a slow burning romance that stretches back over a decade.
“Do you have any vows?” The officiant asks.
I’m shaking my head, but Cory has pulled out a piece of paper.
“You wrote vows?” I hiss at him.
He flashes me this evil smile. “Look who’s more prepared than you for once.”
I’m biting my lips, trying to come up with something on the spot, but then he starts reading, and everything drops out of the bottom of my head.
“Augusta. Hot stuff.”
I crack a smile, which was definitely his intention.
“There’s something you don’t know about me. A secret I’ve kept for as long as I’ve known you.”
What is he talking about?
He smirks at his own notes before folding them and sliding the paper back in his pocket. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. You might not believe it, but it’s true. We were only kids back then, but I knew. It was you. It’s always been you. I was lucky to be your friend back then, and I’m in awe that I get to spend the rest of my life with you and our beautiful girl.” He looks back at Lizzie. Then his eyes are back on me. Piercing my soul. “I love you, Hot Stuff. Always have and always will.”
Sarah spent an hour applying my make-up, and I hate to ruin her artwork, but there’s no helping the tears.
The officiant continues, and when he comes to the last words, my heart speeds up.
This is it.
“By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the—”
I launch myself at Cory, cutting his words short. Lizzie is picking up flower petals from the ground, throwing them at us as we pull back from our kiss. Then we’re both pulling Lizzie into our embrace. Sarah produces flutes of champagne from nowhere and passes them around. Lizzie literally gags the moment she sees the champagne, no doubt remembering her only experience with the stuff. Fortunately, Sarah has come prepared. She fills Lizzie’s glass with soda.
