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What was originally supposed to be Cherise and what’s-his-nose’s nuptials is the kookiest and the coolest event I’ve ever seen.
Henrietta outdid herself with the wildflower wall, and the curly willow down the center aisle makes it look like all of the Williams sisters are walking through a wooded mystical forest.
Yes, my Cherise got a wedding party complete with matching barefooted and winged bridesmaids, doused head-to-toe in glitter. She’s only getting married once, and she gets whatever she wants.
If her sisters look like fairies, then Cherise looks like their queen.
I am shaken to my core when I see her. One look at her, and my heart races so fast I might pass out.
And then, our eyes meet, and I’m done for.
The ballroom seems to disappear around me, and all I see is Cherise in the floral lace gown that seems to float around her. Her diaphanous sleeves reach the floor. Her flowering-vine crown atop her head glitters with pearls, rhinestones, and a tiny Cupid that matches the little fat cherubs peeking out of her bouquet. Her Midsummer Night’s Wedding is spectacular, and I thank god she didn’t ask me to dress like Puck.
Armand nudges me and hands me a tissue. “Don’t want to mess up that fancy pocket square.”
I try to hold back, but I can’t. The pain at the back of my throat won’t let me. This is it; I’m gonna cry.
My face is hot, and tears spill out.
Cherise doesn’t even break. She’s smiling wider than I’ve seen her smile.
I love her so much it hurts.
What a pair we are as I sniffle my way through our vows, Cherise dabbing my tears away with her lace handkerchief. The kiss, however, is the end of all tears and the beginning of our celebration.
To my delight and surprise, Cherise moves the kiss from a chaste wedding kiss into a sensual, prolonged kiss, prompting cheers and whistles from our assembled guests.
I don’t know how long we stand there kissing, but at some point, I get a tap on the shoulder from Armand.
“Hey, boss. Everyone wants cake now. Can we go?”
When the ceremony ends, Henrietta opens up a partition that reveals the reception hall that looks exactly like we’re about to watch the Shakespeare play. The walls glow with the help of a translucent screen reflecting the colors of sunset. Potted flowering trees dot the scenery with tiny cooing lovebirds. The ceiling is hung with so many fairy lights it must be a fire hazard. The tables are laden with fruit, and each centerpiece is a donkey dressed in an Elizabethan ruff color, surrounded by more wildflowers.
Aside from my wife, the best part of all is the cake. It’s a four-tiered monstrosity made only of enormous cinnamon buns.
Cherise holds my arm when we walk in.
“Too much?” she asks.
I lean down and kiss her tenderly on the mouth. “Just enough,” I say.
On the contrary, I’ll never have enough of her being exactly who she is.
Henrietta and all the Williams women swarm us when we reach the head table. It’s a riot of squealing and fussing. The old me wouldn’t care for all this attention, but this is a package deal. I get it.
And suddenly, I realize I just got a mom, a dad, and four new sisters.
While the sisters are offering me advice—and the scary one called Diana is describing all the ways she’ll cut me if I do her sister wrong—I catch snippets of Cherise’s conversation with Henrietta.
“For the record? Fairytales are real. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”
I hear Henrietta laugh as she hugs Cherise.
I’m glad she thinks so now. Because if I have my way, Cherise can live in a fairytale for as long as she wants. I’ll make sure of it.
Epilogue
Cherise
