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Staring at Birdie’s profile, my heart is so full of happiness when I see how eager she is to get to the man at the end of the aisle that she’s practically bouncing on her feet next to me in the grass.
“I love him so much I want to puke.”
My daughter’s reply makes me laugh, even as the tears start filling my eyes.
Birdie slips her hand around my bent elbow, positioning her bouquet in front of her stomach with her other hand. She squeezes my arm, and I want to tell her I felt the same way when the doctor first put her in my arms—I loved her so much I felt sick with the magnitude of it. And that feeling hasn’t stopped for thirty years. But I know anything I say right now would just make us both cry. Birdie would kill me if we were a blubbering mess right before we walked down the aisle.
And then suddenly, before I can think of something to say that won’t make either of us sad, everyone is standing and turning in our direction before I feel like I’m ready, and Palmer starts turning around.
The look on his face when he first sees Birdie makes my heart melt, like he can’t believe she’s actually his. And when I see him mouth the words “Holy shit” as his eyes take in their fill of her in her dress, Birdie lets out an emotional laugh as she takes a step forward.
And after dreaming about this moment and equally dreading it for as long as I can remember, it’s suddenly here. My feet are moving, and I’m walking my girl down the aisle, with a smile glued to my face as the photographer’s camera shutter rapidly clicks from farther down the grass, and all eyes are on us. My hand is resting on top of hers that’s nestled into the crook of my bent arm, and the guests’ faces all blur together as we go. And then we’re joining Palmer in the front, and I’m handing Birdie over to him with a kiss and a hug for them both.
It all happens so fast… in the blink of an eye, really, with no time to memorize or savor every smell, every sound, every footstep I take, or every detail I can. I don’t even realize it’s happened—that her hand is no longer holding onto me, and she’s no longer standing next to me, and I actually let her go—until I feel an arm wrap around my waist and hear a quietly firm voice in my ear while I struggle to get air in my lungs.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Dean pulls me out of the aisle and steps us back into the front row where he was standing, tucking me into his side while I remember how to breathe. His arm is like a life preserver around my waist, keeping me afloat when it feels like my knees might give out. And then he drapes it over the back of my chair when we sit as the officiant welcomes everyone, scooting closer and keeping me together. As soon as the officiant is finished and indicates they can begin their vows, Dean takes his arm off the back of my chair and grabs one of my hands resting in my lap, lacing our fingers together and holding on tight, as Palmer and Birdie turn to face each other.
Palmer suddenly dips his head forward and presses a quick kiss to Birdie’s lips, pulling back immediately with a nervous laugh.
“Sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to do that until the end, but I couldn’t wait. You’re so fucking pretty,” Palmer whispers to her, just loud enough that we can hear him in the front row, making our hearts melt even more. “Also, I can’t stop staring at your tits.”
“Oh my God,” I mutter, shaking my head and laughing right along with the handful of other people in this row who heard that.
“At least he’s honest,” Dean leans over and whispers in my ear.
I ignore the shiver that makes its way through me on this hot summer day when Dean’s mouth brushes against the shell of my ear before he leans back.
Palmer clears his throat to begin his vows, and I squeeze Dean’s hand so hard I’ll probably cut off the circulation by the time this is over.
“I have loved you from the first moment I saw you,” Palmer starts, making a lump form in my throat, watching him look down at my daughter with all of that love shining in his eyes, their hands joined as they stand facing each other. “I wish I would have told you that day that every time you smiled at me, I couldn’t think straight, and every time you laughed, it felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. Fifteen years later, nothing has changed. Every time you smile at me, I wonder how in the hell I got so lucky, and every time you laugh, I hope I never stop making you happy. You’re my best friend, and you drive me crazier than anyone I’ve ever met, and you make me happier than anyone ever could.”
I can feel Dean’s eyes on me before I can see him looking over at me out the corner of my eye, my heart thundering in my chest as I force myself to keep facing forward. His hand is still wrapped around mine as I grip it like a lifeline. The heavy weight of it resting on my thigh, and the strength of him sitting right beside me while these words are being said, comforts me and wreaks havoc on me at the same time when he doesn’t take his eyes off me as Palmer continues.
“I promise to always bring you back maple bacon donuts when I leave the island so you won’t have to murder me in my sleep, and I promise to always pick you up from Sip and Bitch when you’ve had too much to drink, so you won’t ride your bike into the Summersweet Island Pond.”
“Oh my God, that was one time,” Birdie complains with a roll of her eyes even as a tear falls down her cheek.
The crowd all chuckles, and I laugh right along with them, accidentally glancing over at Dean. He’s still looking at me, and my laughter cuts off as my heart starts beating faster when our eyes meet, unable to look away from him while Palmer finishes.
“You didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t ask you to go with me, and it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I promise to never forget how much I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. And what a fool I would be to even try.”
I don’t even hear the last few words he says after that to Birdie, because my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears. I have to force myself to look away from Dean before the tears pooling in my eyes spill over, Palmer’s sweet words making me want to tell this man everything I feel right in the middle of my own daughter’s wedding. I stare up at Birdie and Palmer in a daze as she recites her own vows to him, thankful that she’s practiced them on me at least a hundred times in the last month, so I don’t feel bad when I barely hear half of what she says.
It’s an absolutely perfect, beautiful ceremony with the sun setting out over the water when they exchange rings. And just like that, in just under twenty minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell are being introduced to the crowd. Everyone jumps to their feet with cheers and whistles and catcalls when Palmer can finally tug Birdie into his arms and kiss his wife properly.
And whatever spell I was under after looking over at Dean is quickly broken as I let go of his hand to clap along with everyone else.
“Time to get fucked up!”
Everyone cheers again when Bodhi throws his hands in the air and shouts to the crowd after Birdie and Palmer pull apart. She hooks her hand through his arm with the biggest smile on her face I have ever seen, and they walk down the aisle and past us, staring at each other the entire way, completely oblivious to everyone around them.
Dean and I make our way out into the aisle once the bridal party walks by, just in time to see that the last few rows of guests did what they were asked to do when they arrived. Each person at the end of the aisle had a golf club under their seat, and they now hold them up and out toward the aisle, forming an arch with the clubs for the bridal party to walk under.
“What do you say, plus-one? You wanna go get fucked up?” Dean asks me with a grin in the middle of the aisle, bending his arm and offering me his elbow.
I suddenly hate myself for referring to him as that this morning to try to put some distance between us. It used to annoy me when he first got here and called me his plus-one. Now, it just freaking hurts, and I wish I’d never said it.
