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The mermaid design flares at the ankle and is tight through the knee. The bodice panels are form-fitting. It’s strapless. The satin over the right breast is cut higher at a dramatic asymmetrical peak. The seam is crisp, flowing over into a cuff, making my chest seem rather impressive without the extra undergarments needed for maximum lift. It fits flush and I can’t see down my top at all. Instead of a traditional veil, soft tulle waves attach at my back. The edges are a boa of more tulle that resembles ocean foam before the tide takes it back out to sea.
My face is clean of makeup and my hair is loose around my shoulders. Yet, I haven’t ever felt this beautiful. This glamourous. Not even when I’ve tried. And I can’t believe this is how Cary sees me.
“I know it covers your entire tattoo,” Isobel concedes.
Showing it was never a concern of mine.
I grip her forearm, steadying myself. I’m unmoored, shaking so hard my knees buckle. My friends and family surrounded me, leaning in as they hug me individually.
Tears tumble out so fast I can hardly wipe them away before the next falls. I’m glad I intentionally didn’t wing my liner so it wouldn’t rub off, ruining all the delicate, expensive layers of fabric.
“Those better be joy or I’m going to clobber you with a can of beans.” My sister smarts.
“They are,” I gush, eating up the attention lavished on me. The whole moment feels right. Magical.
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40
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A throng of half-pints rush by so close I have to raise the two round glasses of champagne high in the air so as not to spill them.
The boys—many of them Bhodi’s friends from the big brother program—have carnie costumes over their dress clothes. Sylvie Rhys and Emory bring up the rear, skipping in white frilly frocks. Sylvie has colorful sleeves on her arms; the tattooed lady. My niece has a scraggly black beard attached to her face leftover from the strong man costume another kid’s got on. But the bearded lady works just as well for what the photographer has asked them to do.
We’re at the drive-in early to make the most of the light for photographs. It’s a beautiful mid-February afternoon for an outdoor wedding. We’ll have to turn on the heaters in the tent once the sun goes down, but every peculiar wish we’ve made, Isobel has granted. Funhouse mirrors included.
The wedding party has arrived, along with the mentors of the program boys. Glen and his wife got a plus-one invitation, as did all the other guys Bhodi and I went on field trips with. This is our last official outing and whenCarolina Bridal Magazinefound out about our story, they opted to make it a feature. The boys are also going to have their pictures taken as a group and individually and the moms are all getting reprints at no charge.
I walk away from the bar, out of the tent, and pass Trig one of the champagne glasses. Hearing a roar, I toss my head back and laugh. Dusty’s got a kid hanging off each bicep and the rest are mugging for the camera. The photographer is eating the scene up, letting the kids be kids.
“That’s going to be you one day. Kid hanging off each arm.” Trig comments.
“Not soon enough. How are the twins?”
“Eating. Pooping. Definitely not sleeping… Wouldn’t change a minute.” His contented grin widens when Kimber rounds the corner.
The mill girls are pretty passionate about portraying Holly’s look for a day. Their support extends from tip top of their over-sprayed bouffants, down to winged liner, sassy lipstick, pearl chokers, ending at the toes of wedge heels.
I’m impressed. By the hungry way his jaw ticks, so is Trig.
“It’s good to get out without the kid, though. Remember that,” he says.
The sun will have gone down in the next hour. I consider telling him there are plenty of convertibles with the roof up in case he and Kimber need some privacy to go necking. But I bite my tongue. It’s my perverted fantasy Holly acted on when we were here last.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I say instead since Trig’s advice hasn’t led me wrong so far.
Holly got a call from Marie Grant twenty-four hours after her meeting with Jake. She wanted to reschedule William’s visitation. A few days after that the session Marie canceled altogether.
Almost immediately the judge also contacted Holly requesting an appointment with her in his chamber. He asked Holly why she never sought sole custody of her son and listened to her side of the story. The court gave William the option of paying his back support or relinquishing his rights. He had a month to choose and he conceded within the week, breaking all ties to Bhodi. I don’t think the responsible option was anything William planned to follow through with anyway.
At Holly’s request, we asked as few questions as possible about what was happening with William’s other legal woes. She didn’t want the other side of the story to hamper our happiness. Ignorance had a certain bliss to it, and we focused on moving on and planning our lives together.
Bhodi took his father’s second disappearance in stride. I guess that’s all he’s ever known of the man. Holly also told Half-pint that he has a sister and that, when he was ready, she’d help him contact her. My boy asked a lot of questions about what it was like for me meeting my sister, Addie. And then he changed the subject to how much longer before we were back at the beach house.
He’s a resilient kid. I hope he gets when he’s older that all the thanks for that goes to his mom.
“Ready?” Kimber directs the question to me.
