Chapter 9 - THE CELEBRATION
We walked out of the bridal suite together, hand in hand.
As we stepped back onto the terrace, the sight before us took my breath away.
The stiff, formal atmosphere of the wedding had completely vanished. The pristine white table linens were slightly askew. Men had taken off their suit jackets and loosened their ties. Women were barefoot, carrying plates piled high with the gourmet catering that was originally meant for the Whitakers' snobby friends.
The ten-piece band, previously restricted to classical elevator music by Daniel’s mother, was now blasting a vibrant, soulful rendition of "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire.
My sister Martha was at the center of the dance floor, spinning wildly with one of the groomsmen who had decided to stay because, as he loudly proclaimed, "Daniel was always a jerk anyway."
The venue staff, who had been stiff and terrified of making a mistake all afternoon, were now relaxed. I saw Mr. Caldwell laughing with the head chef near the buffet line.
Olivia pulled me onto the dance floor.
We didn't do a formal, choreographed dance. We jumped. We spun. We laughed until our sides hurt. I watched my daughter spin around, the heavy silk of her wedding dress flying out around her, the restrictive veil gone, her face flushed with pure, unadulterated joy.
She wasn't a bride anymore. She was just Olivia.
Later in the evening, as the sun began to set over the Virginia hills, casting a golden, warm glow across the vineyard, the band slowed the tempo down.
Olivia and I walked over to the edge of the stone terrace, leaning against the balustrade, looking out at the rows of grapevines.
I opened my small navy clutch and pulled out the lace handkerchief one last time. I handed it to her.
“I brought this for you to carry down the aisle,” I said quietly. “Your father’s handkerchief.”
Olivia took it, running her fingers over the delicate lace. “I wish he was here, Mom. I wish he could have seen me stand up for myself.”
“He saw it,” I said with absolute certainty. “He gave you his stubborn streak. He gave you his courage. And he gave you the trust fund that we just used to completely destroy the people who tried to hurt you.”
Olivia laughed, wiping a happy tear from her eye with the handkerchief. “He really was a genius, wasn't he?”
“He loved you,” I said. “More than anything.”
We stood in comfortable silence, watching the stars begin to prick through the twilight sky. The air was cool, the music was soft, and the nightmare was officially over.
“Mom?” Olivia asked, not looking away from the sunset.
“Yes, honey?”
“What are we going to do with the Alexandria house? You know, the one you technically own now?”
I smiled, taking a sip of my champagne.
“Well,” I said thoughtfully. “I hear the real estate market is quite good right now. I was thinking we could sell it, take the profits, and maybe take that trip to Italy we’ve been talking about since you were in high school.”
Olivia turned to me, a huge, radiant smile breaking across her face. “Really? Just the two of us?”
“Just the two of us,” I promised. “No wedding planners. No seating charts. Just family.”
“Family,” Olivia repeated, the word sounding right again.
Suddenly, a small tug on my dress broke our moment.
I looked down. It was little Lily. She had a massive smear of chocolate frosting across her cheek, and she was holding a plate with a massive slice of wedding cake.
“Auntie Liv,” Lily said, holding up the plate. “I brought you a piece. It has a flower on it.”
Olivia knelt down, taking the plate with a gracious smile. “Thank you, Lily. That is the most beautiful piece of cake I’ve ever seen.”
Lily beamed, then looked at me. She reached into her little pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled cocktail napkin. Inside were two chocolate truffles.
“I brought you these, Mrs. Hayes,” Lily said shyly. “Because you’re the best mommy. Auntie Liv told me.”
My heart swelled. I knelt down next to Olivia and took the napkin from the little girl.
“Thank you, Lily,” I said gently. “You are a very sweet girl. And you know what? You are definitely family too.”
Lily’s eyes lit up. She threw her arms around my neck, giving me a sticky, chocolate-scented hug, before running off to dance with her mother.
I stood up, holding my truffles, looking at Olivia.
We had survived the day. We had lost a groom, we had lost a delusion, and we had lost a lot of money on white garden roses.
But as the music played and the laughter of the people who truly mattered filled the evening air, I knew we had won the only thing that counted.
We had won each other back.
I raised my champagne flute to my daughter. She raised hers to mine.
The glass clinked, a perfect, clear sound in the night.
May you like
“To family,” I said.
“To family,” Olivia smiled.
