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But she doesn’t call me out on my finger bobble. Instead, she smiles, soft and gentle. She wraps me in a hug and whispers, “You’re a part of this family, Freedom. Always.” Then, she kisses me on the cheek and backs away, giving my left hand a light squeeze before she returns to where her daughter stands in the center of the room in her wedding dress.
There’s a slight tremble to my fingers as I bring my glass to my lips and drink. If only Mary Ann knew what her words meant to me. Actually, maybe she does know and that’s why she shared them. Either way, my eyes hold slight tears as I look around the room, taking in this family I’ve come to love.
My family.
They’ve always accepted me, weirdness and all. I’ve always known I was different, even as a young child. You’re not raised by hippies and named Freedom Rayne without being even a little weird. But they’ve never made me feel like an outcast, like I wasn’t allowed to be whomever I wanted to be. Even Samuel. He may not understand it, and Lord knows anything not black and white is a struggle for him, but he’s never made me feel anything less than accepted.
Even now.
Even as he struggles to come to terms with the turn of events in our lives, he makes me feel alive.
Wanted.
That’s all I can ask for in a world where you’re so easily cast aside for being different. A world where they do doubletakes when you enter a room because your jewelry is gawdy and maybe a little noisy. A world where they roll their eyes every time you get excited about the benefits of healing powers. A world where they shun you for speaking your mind when faced with prejudice and adversity.
A world where differences aren’t always accepted.
But not this family.
They accept me.
Strangeness and all.
***
I’m not a crier, but I openly admit my eyes get a little misty when I turn to see my bestie walk down the short aisle on her oldest brother’s arm. She’s radiating sunlight as she walks toward Latham, who can’t seem to take his eyes off the woman he loves.
And let’s take a moment to talk about Samuel. He looks confident and stunning in his suit, but honestly, he always does. As he gives his sister away, there’s something different about him. He looks completely relaxed, sure, but there’s a hint of sadness there. As if a longing he can’t seem to contain is fighting to get out.
When they reach the end of the aisle, the minister asks, “Who gives this woman to wed this man?”
Samuel confidently and proudly states, “I do.” Then he turns to his younger sister, hugs her tightly, and passes her hand to the man she’s about to marry.
As he walks to the front row to take the empty seat between their mother and his siblings, I catch his eyes raking over my body. I’m wearing a taupe dress with tiny aqua flowers around the waist, the hemline just below my knees. To be honest, I rarely wear a skirt that isn’t ankle-length, but when I saw this one, I knew it was perfect for tonight. Simple, yet elegant, and if the way Samuel’s eyes devour my curves, I’d say I made a good choice in dresswear.
Good.
I’m in the second row, alone, and suddenly, he stops. He doesn’t take a seat. He glances down the row to his two siblings and their fiancés, and then back to his mom. There’s indecision written on his face, but it’s quickly replaced with acceptance.
Samuel walks around his family and joins me in the second row. Marissa and Mary Ann both glance back at me when they see where he’s going, his mom giving me a wink and a smile. I feel his body heat, his presence as he takes the empty seat beside me. His leg brushes against mine, and I have to stop myself from reaching over and taking his hand. But I don’t.
I watch in rapture as my bestie for life professes her love to the man of her dreams. I’m not sure when I started to cry, but when Samuel hands me a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket, I smile. Dabbing my wet eyes, my heart beats wildly in my chest, so full of love and elation for my best friend and the life she’s making.
A life I secretly want.
Not with Latham.
With someone else.
Warmth wraps around my left hand as he laces his fingers with my own. The act only makes the tears come even quicker. I’m lost in the sensations of his soft skin against mine, the comfort that silent act provides. My eyes bounce between the couple at the front of the room and to the hand holding my left one. I think witnessing the combination of declaration of forever and friendship and understanding beside me is almost too much.
It just makes the tears fall even faster.
When the ceremony is done and they’re pronounced man and wife, Latham kisses his bride with everything he has, claiming her as his own. Forever.
We all stand, Samuel releasing my hand so we can clap with the rest of the family. I dab at my eyes one final time, praying those pesky tears are gone, at least for now. “Thank you,” I whisper, handing him back the handkerchief.
Samuel clears his throat, his blue-green eyes locked on mine. “You may keep it,” he offers, holding up his hand as I try to give him back the square of material.
