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“Sure, kid. Let’s see what you got,” she accepts.
Sara-Beth watches them disappear into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, and then she turns to me.
“How are you holding up?” she asks.
“I’m kind of rethinking the gorgeous blue shoes at the moment,” I admit.
She winks and reaches down into the pocket of her mother’s gown—both she and Mom insisted theirs have pockets—and produces a pair of fur-lined white satin slippers.
I gasp. “You’re the best mother-in-law a girl could ever hope for!”
I take them from her, hobble over to one of the tables, and take a seat. I discreetly remove the beautiful but vicious stilettos, hide them under the table, and step into the heavenly clouds.
“Ahh,” I moan.
“You keep making that sound, and we aren’t going to make it to the cake cutting,” Garrett’s deep voice says, and his warm breath tickles my ear.
I turn to see him standing with two flutes of champagne.
“Oh, I’m not missing that cake, Mr. Tuttle,” I quip.
He sets the glasses on the table and offers his hand. “Dance with me, wife.”
I let him lead me onto the dance floor, and the band begins the intro to the first song he ever wrote for me, “Tennessee Sunsets.” He holds me in his arms and sings the lyrics in my ear, and I close my eyes. Even though I know the room is filled with hundreds of bodies, it feels like we’re the only ones here.
This moment is perfect.
It’s the one I’ll commit to memory and carry in my heart forever.
When the song ends, Garrett kisses my neck and continues to circle us around the floor. I open my eyes as the next song begins, and he is staring down at me.
“Are you happy, baby?”
I nod. “Are you?” I ask.
“I’ll be happier when they finally cut that damn cake so I can get you out of this dress.”
I sigh and lean my forehead against his chin. “I’ll be happy when they cut that dang cake too.”
We look to our side and see Caleb, handsome as can be in his suit and tie, guiding Annabelle around the dance floor as she stomps on his feet.
“Hang in there, buddy,” Garrett says as he reaches over and taps his back.
Caleb rolls his eyes and continues to take her missteps like a man.
The tempo picks up, and Erin and her husband, Ted, boogie past us.
“Those photographers finally cut us loose,” she calls.
Weston glides by us as he twirls a giggling Kaela in the air.
The rest of the bridal party join us, and we all start swinging each other around as we laugh and sing at the top of our lungs.
Leona and Ralph and Sara-Beth and Hilton even give us all a quick shagging tutorial.
When the band announces they are taking a short break so the bride and groom can cut the wedding cake, Garrett lets out a loud shout and grabs my hand.
The exquisite wedding cake stands four tiers tall, each layer adorned with red berry branches and edible flowers. The base tier is covered in a textured buttercream frosting, resembling the rugged bark of a tree, giving it that authentic rustic charm.
