Chapter Thirty-Eight

April 2019

The pre-wedding photos were a complete wash—no pun intended. The new location was dry, as opposed to the last location Mandy's parents had to retreat from, but when they all finally arrived, they had to immediately leave if they were going to make it in time for the ceremony. Now she was back in the limo—with Mom and Dad—but at least she was fully dressed at last. Well, mostly.

"It's zipped. Stop messing with it." Mandy swatted Mom's hands away. She had been tugging and twisting and fixing Mandy since she got in the car.

"This wouldn't have happened if you didn't have to get dressed alone. I knew it was a bad idea," Mom said.

"It's over, and I'm dressed now, so can we drop it, please?"

"There's still the issue of your shoes," Mom said.

"Honey," Dad cautioned, but Mom was not listening.

"I'm not wearing any shoes but the ones I have on, and that's final." Why couldn't Mom ever listen to Mandy?

"I'm just thinking about the future. When you look back at your pictures, I don't want you to be regretful."

"What pictures?" Mandy huffed. It was a low blow and not her mother's fault that they hadn't been able to take any, and poking the bear was never a good idea, but Mandy was already stressed enough. She didn't need to be thinking about how she would feel about her footwear choices on some hypothetical future date. At this rate, the entire day was doomed, and she wouldn't want any pictures to remember it at all.

"Don't get snippy with me. I wasn't late," Mom said.

Mandy bit her tongue. Arguing wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix anything either, so Mandy let it go.

"I think it's Amanda's day, and we need to respect her choices," Dad, always the voice of reason, chimed in.

"What's wrong with wanting it to be perfect?" Mom asked. "I'm not the bad guy."

"No one said you were," Dad said.

Mom wasn't the bad guy, but Mandy wanted someone to blame for everything that had gone wrong—because if not her mother, then who? Mandy had wanted this day to be perfect, because then it would mean her marriage would be perfect—or it would, at least, set her out on the right foot. If Mandy tried hard enough, maybe this time things would work out, unlike every other time in her life. Unlike the last time she was supposed to get married.

Mandy glanced down at her empty ring finger. It felt so strange taking it off to be soldered together with her new wedding band. She had gotten into such a habit of fiddling with it when she was anxious, and now, she had nothing to fiddle with. She didn't want to think it was the universe's way of saying to get used to it, but those intrusive thoughts were once again in her head.

"I spy, with my little eye, something blue," Dad said. It was a game they'd played in the car when she was little. The drive to Disneyland always seemed excruciatingly long, so Dad would come up with little games to occupy the time.

Mandy looked out the tinted window of the limo.

"Not that side," Dad said, then tipped his head forward to the windows opposite him—since he was sitting basically sideways along the length of the car.

Mandy leaned over Mom, and there it was. "The sky." While on one side of the limo it was still cloudy and gray, there on the other, it was all cloudless skies—a shade of cerulean that eased Mandy's racing heart.

"Clear skies ahead," Roger confirmed.

Maybe the venue had been spared. Mandy could text Candy and get an update—hell, Candy probably had already texted her twelve times by now—but instead, she decided to take a breath, lay her head in her mother's lap, breathing in the floral scent of Mom's signature perfume, and stare out the window.

Mom gently stroked Mandy's arm like she had done since Mandy was little. Was this the message the universe was sending her? That after darkness there was always light. That without rain there'd be no flowers. The world was full of opposites that balanced everything out. There were no absolutes. Always and never didn't actually exist; they were just words that people gave way too much power to.

Mandy glanced back to the gray side of the limo.

Nothing lasted forever.

Or was that the message?

If nothing lasted forever, was Mandy just fooling herself for believing it could?

By the time the limo pulled to the front of the venue, Mandy's nerves were all over the place, swinging from one extreme to the other. There would be moments she would convince herself it would all be okay, and then in another, worried her presence alone would burn everything to the ground. If she didn't find stability soon, she would likely get motion sickness. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Roger opened the limo door, and Mom was the first to get out.

"Mrs. Dean, you look fantastic," Candy gushed.

Roger's hand was there, and Mandy took it to help her out of the car—because at that moment she needed all the help she could get. Candy stood next to Mom, looking fantastic as always in a crisp pale-peach pantsuit, cell phone at the ready and her Bluetooth headset peeking out from her perfectly poofed Afro. Her always radiant dark brown skin somehow seemed even more radiant.

"Mandy." Candy put her hand to her chest. "Absolutely stunning." The confidence in Candy's voice gave Mandy the strength she needed to let go of Roger's hand and wrap Candy in a hug.

Candy pulled away, taking Mandy's hand. "Don't worry. Everything's under control." And there it was. The anchor Mandy needed. She almost started to cry right then and there, but instead took a deep breath. "The bridal suite is all set up, and guests should start arriving shortly, so let's get you inside before anyone sees you." She turned to Mom and Dad, who stood at the opened trunk of the limo. "My assistant, Austin, is on his way to help with all of this." Candy reached down and picked up Mandy's train, and just like that, she swept Mandy away.

As soon as they pushed through the doors, Mandy was caressed with the sweet smell of lemon cookies. This venue was Mandy's favorite. As soon they walked inside, she knew she wanted the wedding here. Mom would've called it rustic or farmhouse , but Mandy called it homey . There was something so comforting about its cozy nooks and warm color palette that made Mandy feel as though she were wrapped in a reassuring hug. And then there was the garden with its arched birch walkway and fragrant blooms, drenched in twinkle lights that made it feel like walking into a fairy tale.

Candy nudged Mandy's arm. "Emotion check. Where are we at?" This was something Candy introduced when they first started working together. A quick way to gauge from one to ten—one being completely at ease, to ten, a full-blown stress ball—how her clients were feeling.

Mandy took another deep breath. "I was a twelve, now I'm down to a six."

"She brought you shoes, didn't she?"

Mandy nodded, and Candy immediately started typing on her phone. "Austin will make sure we can't find them until tomorrow, or never, whichever you prefer." Candy had made the comment once that it wasn't the brides that made weddings stressful but their mothers—Mandy knew she'd made the right choice of wedding planner.

"Because I don't think you want to deal with my mother forever, tomorrow would be perfect."

"And that's why you are my favorite bride." Candy probably said that to all of her clients, but Mandy didn't care. "And here we are." Candy pushed open the door to the bridal suite. A chandelier hung in the center of the room, and along the far faux brick wall leaned a massive full-length mirror with a thick gold frame. A gold couch ran along another wall, and soft ivory chairs flanked a table with fresh flowers, fruit-infused water, lemon cookies, and a bottle of champagne. Sunlight filtered in from a large window that overlooked a small private garden.

Tranquil. And just what Mandy needed.

"We have a little time, so can I get you anything?" Candy asked.

Mandy stared out the window. There was a feeder, and hummingbirds swarmed around it—their wings going so fast they were just flashes of light. One would drink, then move aside, and another would take its place. It was like watching a choreographed dance. "I'm okay right now."

Candy checked her phone. "Good, 'cause we have incoming in three, two, one—" The door opened, and Mom, Dad, and Austin came inside juggling boxes and bags. Who knew getting married required so much stuff? There was Mandy's "survival kit," which was extra makeup as well as snacks, a Clorox pen, wet wipes, and whatever else she could possibly need. And a box with her bouquet and Mom and Dad's flowers too—a corsage and boutonniere. And then there was Mandy's outfit for whenthey exited the venue—because yes, she was doing the whole leave-in-a-different-outfit-while-everyone-threw-biodegradable-confetti-at-them thing. Then who knew what Mom brought with her, but it seemed like a lot.

"Oh, isn't this place just charming," Mom said. She also said it the day they toured the location, but Mandy wasn't going to mention that.

"Can I pour anyone a glass of champagne?" Austin offered. He was just as crisp and polished as Candy in a turquoise blazer and white pants—which actually made his fair ivory skin look not so pale, at least around the ankles.

"I shouldn't, but what the heck." Mom set her things down and headed his way.

Austin popped the cork like a professional sommelier, then poured a little in each glass, passing them around. The bubbles sparkled in the golden liquid.

"To a magical wedding day," Austin said and raised his glass.

Just as everyone took a sip, Candy's and Austin's phones buzzed simultaneously. They exchanged a glance, and Austin politely excused himself. Candy shook her head at Mandy in a don't worry sort of way. Before Mandy could ask, Dad cleared his throat.

"Candy, darling, can you help me with something out here?" Mom put her champagne glass down and headed to the door.

If Candy was surprised by this seemingly random and vague request, she didn't show it. "Of course."

A moment later they were gone and just Mandy and Dad were left.

"Before the day got away from us, I wanted a minute to talk to you alone." Dad wrung his hands together, and a crease ran across his forehead.

"Sure. What's going on?" Mandy hadn't really seen Dad this worked up before, but the sight didn't make her nervous, more like concerned. Dad was always the steady one. The practical one. So whatever this was, it had to be important.

"This is a big day for you, but it's a big day for me too." Did Dad have tears in his eyes? "I have to admit that my little girl is all grown up, and, well, that isn't an easy thing for a dad to say. To me, you'll always be my little girl who used to slide down the banister and would always try to hide in my luggage anytime I had a business trip. I know I haven't been the perfect dad, and I've been hard on you, and I haven't always been as supportive as I should've. But I wanted you to know how proud I am of the woman you've become." Dad's voice broke and a tear slipped down his cheek, making the backs of Mandy's eyes burn. He reached into the side pocket of one of the bags and handed Mandy a box. "I wanted you to have this. To remind you that no matter what, I love you and I'm always thinking of you." Inside was the most beautiful watch Mandy had ever seen—a gray pearlescent face with enough diamonds to make it sparkle but not so many that it was over-the-top. "Your mother wanted me to tell you, you don't have to wear it today—"

"No. I love it. It's perfect." Mandy clasped it onto her wrist. He had bought her a gift, one she was sure he went and picked out by himself, because it didn't look like anything Mom had ever gotten her. It wasn't the gift itself though, but the gesture that had Mandy's heart feeling so full. "Thank you, Daddy."

He pulled her into him, and her nose flooded with the smell of his cologne mixed with fabric softener. Mandy wanted to bottle up that scent and keep it with her forever. He squeezed her tight, and just like when she was little, she felt safe, and loved, and never wanted him to let go.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

"I love you too."