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17
Kit
Are We There Yet?
Bobby organized a shiny black stretch limousine to drive us from my home to Nell’s, and although I should be over the moon excited and bouncing like the other girls, I can’t. I feel sick.
I look around the very expensive, very large limousine, at the plush lounges and glasses of wine we each were handed on our way in – grape juice for Izzy. The large sunroof sits firmly closed above us, because no one wants to risk their hair, and the music remains off, because I feel like I’m going to be sick with nerves.
The invitations I slaved over and sent out to our closest family and friendsclearlystated the ceremony would start at two p.m.
It’s already five minutes past, and because my two best friends in the whole worldinsistedthe bride must be late, they sabotaged us and made sure I couldn’t get them out the door until two on the dot.
I was dressed and waiting at the curb fifteen minutes early.
Fuck being late! I hate being late anywhere, and I especially loathe being late to my own wedding. Bobby’s waiting for me. I’m waiting for him.
We’ve waited long enough.
With a mocking snicker, Tink takes my hand and squeezes. “Seriously, babe, you need to relax. We’ll be there in like, three minutes flat. Bobby knows exactly where you are. He knows you’re on the way. He knows you’re safe, and as far as I know, he didn’t ditch and run off with the caterer yet.”
I snatch my hand away with a petulant scowl and work on breathing while wrapped in a dress so tight, the boning keeps me sitting tall and barely allows my lungs to expand. I tap my foot and fight the urge to bite my nails, but eventually, finally, the car pulls onto Bobby’s mom’s road and I arch my neck to get a look at the house in all its decorated glory.
It. Looks. Amazing.
Although the sun is still high overhead, fairy lights litter every tree, post, mailbox, and surface available. I get the feeling Jon and Aiden literally came outside with boxes of lights and tossed them around.
Lights hang in the large pear trees at the top of the driveway, and more in the rose trellis. Lights hang along the front porch and wind around the wide supporting columns, while white lace lines the walkway, and rose petals litter the stone path.
Everything is so untouched, I actually wonder if guests were told to stay the hell off the path.
As a group, we clamber inelegantly from the limo and pass around yellow and white bouquets as we flash our underwear, because none of us are classy the way women who usually wear these kinds of gowns are. Fixing my veil over my hair, Tink looks up at me like a proud mother handing her daughter over. “You’re gonna knock him on his ass, Kit. You look so beautiful.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
With a collective boob rearrangement, and a giggle when we realize we’re all doing the same thing, we link arms and start along the path to the front door.
The ceremony is being held in the backyard – also known as the rose garden – so we move up the porch stairs and head inside.
We walk through the living room and step around rose petals. “Kit, honey.” Tink squeezes my hand to slow my steps. “Are you sure about this? I can go and grab Jack or George. There are a bunch of men here who’d be honored to walk with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I love her concern, but no. “I’m okay. I’m a grown woman, Case. I’m independent, and I have been for a long, long time. No one can give me away, because no one owns me. I want to give myself to Bobby. I’m his equal. That’s who we are, and I want to start this our way.”
Her brows crinkle. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Hey there, beautiful girls.” Mike steps forward as we move into the kitchen. He takes me in his arms and hugs me tight. “You look stunning, Kitten. Bobby’s gonna swallow his tongue when he gets a load of you.”
“Aww thanks, Mike. What are you doing here?”
“You invited me,” he jokes. He takes Tink in for a hug, then Iz. “Oh, you meant here,” he points to the ground after letting Iz go. “I’m here to greet you, then start your music, and if I have time, to text him a picture.”
“Shit. I didn’t even think about the music.”
“That’s okay. B’s gotcha back, girl. He won’t let you fall.”
“Okay, well.” I look around our small group. “I guess we’re ready to start.”
He looks over my shoulder dramatically. “We waiting for anybody? Who’s escorting you?”
