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Chapter Nineteen
Huxley
It’s the first time I’ve been a best man. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours making sure people are comfortable and happy, and it’s just felt like an extension of my day job, which comes so easily to me I’m convinced anyone could do it.
But as I stand with Mack, and I watch him tremble as his bride-to-be approaches down the aisle, I suddenly feel the real reason I’m here. I’m the equivalent to Sidnie’s father for the groom. I’m a symbol of Mack’s past, and I’m giving him away to her, helping him pass from bachelorhood to the respectable role of husband and, God willing, father, in time.
For so long we’ve all—me, Mack, Victoria, Titus, Elizabeth—lived without a thought for the future. Selfishly devoting our lives to work and fun, convinced we’d be young forever, and certain that we didn’t want the tie of a relationship, not wanting the complication, as Titus said. I wonder if he’s feeling what I am right now—that sudden shock like a bee sting inside me, as I watch Mack waiting for his bride, and realize I’m experiencing not smugness at being the single one, but envy, bone-deep, at the thought that he’s making that transition onto the train into manhood that I’ve somehow not managed to board.
He inhales deeply and blows out a long breath, and I rest a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “She looks like a princess,” I murmur.
“I don’t deserve her,” he whispers. “I don’t know why she picked me.”
“Because you’re soul mates.”
“I didn’t think you believed in that.”
“I didn’t, until now.”
He glances at me and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too,” I say, my voice husky. “Good luck, bro.”
I let him go, and he moves forward to stand next to Sidnie as she reaches the altar, turns to face him, and lifts her veil back.
Cameron begins to speak, reciting a Maori karakia or prayer, to invoke the spiritual goodwill of the gathering, and increase the likelihood of a good outcome. After this, he greets everyone, first in Maori, then in English, and the ceremony proceeds, blessed by the autumn sun. I feel a strange sense of surrealism as I listen to them say their vows and promise to love each other for the rest of their lives. I’ve been to weddings before, of course, but the words they’re saying to each other seem to hold more meaning today.
When it’s time for them to exchange rings, I fumble at the box with uncharacteristic inelegance, oddly emotional as I hand them over. But maybe it’s not odd. I know why I’m feeling like this.
I look across at Elizabeth, and I’m not surprised to find her watching me. Her eyes are wet, and as I watch she smiles and brushes at her cheeks.
Do I believe in soul mates?
If so, then does that mean I have one, too?
I can buy a girl chocolate and flowers the same as any man, but I’ve never thought of myself as a romantic person, and I’ve tended to mock anyone who talks hearts and flowers. But what if there is such a thing as my soul mate? If there is one woman who’s meant for me?
Looking into Elizabeth’s eyes, my stomach flips.
Have I lost her, just before I even realized who she is?
But there’s no time to ruminate on it, because the short, simple ceremony is coming to an end.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Cameron says, smiling. “You may kiss the bride!”
“That’s the easy part,” Mack says, pulling her toward him, and she laughs and throws her arms around his neck as they exchange a long, heartfelt kiss.
After that, they sign the official documents with me and Sidnie’s sister as witnesses, and then it’s time for photos, which always takes longer than you think. Then it’s cocktail hour, while a couple of Mack’s cousins play guitars and one of his aunts sings.
When Cameron comes over to me and says it’s time, I nod to Koro, Mack’s grandfather, and he gets to his feet and starts organizing Mack’s family into two lines for the celebration that we’ve secretly planned. Mack’s eyes widen, but I just grin and get everyone else, including many of the crew, who are eager to watch, to stand in a semi-circle facing them, and direct Mack and Sidnie to the center of the deck. I catch Sidnie’s eye, and she winks at me. Mack has no idea we’ve practiced this.
I can see Elizabeth standing to one side with Victoria and the others, and I feel a frisson of nerves for a second at the thought that she’s going to be watching me perform, but it’s too late now.
As everyone falls quiet, I take my place in the front line, down from Titus and Jamie, who’ve been practicing with me, and Mack’s cousin starts playing his guitar. First, we sing a Maori song,Pokarekare Ana, and as it’s a traditional song, many of the guests also join in.
When the song comes to an end, Koro begins walking behind the line as he begins the call and response to start thehaka—the Maori ceremonial war dance. The rest of us respond with the aggressive calls and warlike gestures that provide the challenge to Mack and his wife to step up to their new role.
Most New Zealanders know theKa Mate hakathat the All Blacks rugby team performs, but this is a specialhaka, calledTika Tonu—‘What is right is always right’—written at the beginning of the twentieth century by a Maori chief whose son had gone to college and was having trouble there. Mack already knows it off by heart, but I know he’ll be touched that we’re all performing it for him. I’m conscious that he lost his father some time ago, and Koro agreed that thishakawas the perfect way to show him that the rest of his family and friends will always be there for him.
