Page 78 of Came the Closest
Wedding & Warning Bells
Colton
“When Graham asked me if I’d say a few words at the reception, my first thought was that I was glad he only asked for a few,” Dad says. He stands at the edge of the square outdoor dance floor, having lost his suit jacket sometime after the ceremony, and he holds Graham’s gaze. “If you put us in a room together, we might tie for who says fewer words. Which is why I think it’s only right that he married a lovely young lady who puts thousands of words together at a time.”
Seated at a table for two nearest the lake, Graham puts an arm around Ember’s shoulders and kisses her temple. My brother and his new wife decided while arranging seating to sit by themselves since most of the wedding party had families. I could kiss my past self for not objecting then, because now it means I get to sit with Cheyenne.
It’s an exercise in restraint, of course, sitting this close to her when she’s wearing that fitted blue dress. I can’t count the number of times I’ve found myself looking at her today—when she interacted with Milo during the ceremony, when the spaghetti strap of her dress fell off of her shoulder in the food line, when she laughs during the speeches, exposing a long line of tanned skin that smells like lavender.
Soft love songs play through the DJ’s speakers, complementing the easygoing evening mood. Round tables, blushing pink floral arrangements, and attendees in shades of summer. A sunset in wedding form.
“That said,” Dad continues, “I wrote down a few things I’d like to say tonight. I promise to keep it short and sweet so I don’t hold the dance up.”
Milo twists enthusiastically on my lap. I suppress a groan when his elbow juts into my abdomen. “Can I dance? I like to dance! Annie lets me dance in the kitchen.” He gasps. “Did you know that Annie likes to dance?”
“I did know that,” I tell him, and I adjust his arm so I can breathe properly. “We’ll be able to dance soon.” I lower my voice and glance at Cheyenne. “If you ask her really nicely, Annie might even dance with you. But you gotta be careful so you don’t step on her toes.”
Jordan glances across the table. “Says the guy who has two left feet.”
“Shh,” Indi hisses from beside Cheyenne. “Dad’s talking.”
Mischief sparkles in Milo’s eyes when Cheyenne smiles at him. He twists on my lap to face forward again and slumps into my chest. Cheyenne rummages in her tote bag and hands me a plastic sailboat. I give it to Milo to sustain him through this speech, and I hold my arm out straight so he can surf the boat up and down it.
Is it wrong that I want a sailboat to distract me?
“Firstly, I must congratulate the two of you,” Dad says. “Ember, I could not have handpicked a lovelier woman for my son. You’ve brought light and love into not only his life, but to our entire family. My hope is that you and Graham will take today’s love and carry it with you for the rest of your lives.
“I can’t say I’ve set a stellar example, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that commitment doesn’t mean sacrificing a life you love. It means sacrificing for the person you love, and them doing the same. Because when you love someone like you two love each other, committing means choosing to be the best versions of yourselves.” He pauses to clear his throat, and it thickens his voice when he continues. I shift uncomfortably on my chair. “Graham, the man you have become is a man your mother and I only hoped for. I have no doubt you’ll love and protect and cherish your wife for the rest of your life, and I promise to be here for both of you.”
Lifting his glass, he tips it toward Graham and Ember. “To the newlyweds; may your life together be full of love, laughter, and most importantly, commitment. I love both of you.”
Reaching around Milo, I tuck the sailboat in my palm and help him clap his hands together. Complicated emotions lodge in my throat when Dad hugs Ember tightly, then Graham. His and Graham’s embrace is longer, and when Dad whispers something to him, Graham tosses his head back in unrestrained laughter.
Raw longing hits me square in the center of my chest.
It tangles with a healthy awareness of my father. His thick salt-and-pepper hair, his steady hand on Ember’s shoulder, his easy smile as he pauses on the way back to our table to shake John Byrant’s hand.
My dad is alive, he’s truly and wholly living.
Cheyenne’s dad is not. Tripp’s still alive, and I hope to God he can pull through the coma and recover. But Cheyenne doesn’t have him like I have my dad, regardless of how little I know or trust him.
Milo doesn’t have his dad, either, a tiny, unwelcome voice whispers in my head.
Awareness of this burns in my chest all through the first dances. Ember and Graham slow dance against a tangerine sky to Hey Girl, stealing kisses and murmuring words and laughing. John and Ember sway gently to I Loved Her First, father and daughter smiling through tears. Graham holds Hazel close during I’ll Stand by You, just like he would’ve done with our mother had she been here.
I should be able to shake it, this ache in my chest, if only for tonight. But as the DJ opens the dance floor and Mr. C comes across the speakers for the Cha Cha Slide, I can’t. Indi and Milo pull me onto the dance floor between Cheyenne and Jolene, and I try to rival my brothers’ dance moves, but I’m off.
Cheyenne knows it.
She dances with everything she’s got, that silky dress highlighting every last curve of her body. Laughter softens her mouth when Jordan spins her around, and she lifts her hair from her neck at the chorus of the second song. I want to trace my fingertip across the tan line on the middle of her back, and follow it up with soft kisses.
I want to line our arms up and draw the infinity sign from my freckles to hers.
I want my life to make sense again.
Three songs later, everyone is breathing hard as we go back to our table. Milo’s tie is tucked in Cheyenne’s palm, and my dress shirt is partly untucked. Milo tugs on my pinkie insistently, darting a nervous glance around and bouncing slightly.
“I gotta go potty,” he says.