by Nella Tyler
Sophia
The Same Evening
Mom finally retired to her bedroom around ten o’clock, planning to go to sleep sitting upright so she didn’t mess up her hair. Lacey and I stayed downstairs for a few minutes, tidying up and turning off lights before we went upstairs, too, telling each other goodnight and exchanging anxious smiles before going to our own rooms and shutting the doors behind us.
I was too full of buzzing nerves to go to sleep right away, but I didn’t want to keep Lacey from sleeping if she could. I turned on some music, keeping it just loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough to bother my mom or sister, and went to my closet. We’d picked up our dresses from the bridal shop the other day, trying them on first so we could make sure all the alterations had been done to our liking before the shop closed for the holiday, but I hadn’t taken another look at it since then.
Humming along with the Christmas carols, I unzipped the garment bag and carefully removed the dress, holding the hanger high so it wouldn’t drag on the carpet. Mom and John — it was getting easier to use his first name with every passing hour, I was relieved to find, although I still hadn’t called him that to his face — had chosen navy blue and silver as their wedding colors, a nod to the Christmas season, without being as obnoxious as picking green and red.
The dress itself was gorgeous. Mom let Lacey and me choose between three different styles that she’d chosen a few weeks earlier. From the second we tried on the second of the three dresses, Lacey and I knew we had our winner. It had a full skirt, gathered waist, and beaded bodice. The entire thing was dark blue, with the sliver coming in on the sparkling bodice, our shoes, and the accents in our hair. The museum held galas a few times a year to fundraise, and this dress was perfect for one of those occasions. It wasn’t the stereotypical ugly bridesmaid dress, at all.
I laid the dress out on my bed, just admiring how beautiful it was. Lacey was only a quarter of an inch shorter than I was, but our bodies were pretty similar, so we looked stunning standing next to each other and grinning like little kids in the huge mirror at the bridal shop. Then we turned around and saw Mom behind us, bawling her eyes out. We’d all burst into tears and hugged each other, crying and laughing at how much we loved each other and how happy we were to be together.
I took the shoes we’d bought out from the bottom of the garment bag — just simple silver strappy shoes that would have to be put on at the venue due to subzero temperatures and about three feet of snow on the ground — and set them next to the bed near the dress.
I was actually feeling excited for tomorrow. There’d been so much buildup from the time Mom told me about the surprise holiday wedding until now. Even all the crap brewing between Carter and me couldn’t damper that anticipation. I’d probably feel differently once I saw him in his tuxedo tomorrow but, for right now, I just wanted to enjoy the end of a great day with Lacey and Mom. We’d exchanged gifts, sung Christmas songs, had a great meal, and talked without ever running out of things to say. We’d looked great doing it, too, after our hair and nail appointments in the middle of the morning!
My phone gave its chirping ring.
I turned to look at where I’d left it sitting on my desk next to my closed laptop. Who could be calling me at this hour on Christmas Eve?
I crossed the room, frowning a little until I saw the screen. Willem’s face was staring up at me, his blue eyes full of trouble, the way they were in real life, but warmth, too.
I plugged my Bluetooth headset in and answered the phone.
“Merry Christmas!” I said, keeping my voice down so I didn’t disturb the rest of my family.
“Hello, Sophia! Merry Christmas to you, too. Or at least, it will be in a little over an hour.”
“Is everything okay?” He never called this late, unless he forgot the time difference because he was so excited about something that had just happened on his trip and he couldn’t wait to tell me about some painting or artist he’d secured for the museum.
“Everything is great,” he replied, and I relaxed, sitting down at the desk. “I didn’t want to call during the day because I figured you would be hanging out with your family, and tomorrow is the big day.”
“Yes, it is,” I said, and a wave of nerves washed over me before residing so I could feel the excitement bubbling in my stomach again. “What’s up?”
“Well, I just heard from your VIPs last night and this morning. I guess they all wanted to make sure we knew the good news before the holiday.”
I was ready to scream at the time he was taking to just tell me how much they were going to give. But he liked to draw things out, so I played the game, too.
“Good news?”
“Very good. I spoke to the Lennoxes first, then the Jotkoffs, and, finally, your best friend, Ms. Eller.”
I grinned at that. She’d emailed twice since I’d been in Wisconsin; the first time to let me know that, sadly, her grandson had brought a woman home with him to introduce to his parents, and they seemed rather serious. I thought we’d probably stay in touch for a while. She was intelligent and funny, and had invited me to her place to discuss art and my future prospects — both professional and personal — over high tea once I returned to the city. I planned to take her up on that.
“And...” I asked, drawing a pleased sound from him.
“And all three of them are going to donate!”
I let loose a triumphant whoop before I remembered that I wasn’t alone in my apartment and quieted down again. “That is awesome! I’m so happy I didn’t completely screw that up!”
“You did the opposite of screw it up, Sophia. You clinched the deal. Each one raved about your positive attitude, your professionalism, and how full of life you were. That exuberance was the kicker. Everyone felt like you truly enjoyed your work and that sharing it with them gave you immense pleasure.”
“It did… Once I was able to calm the hell down and remember that I love art and know a lot about it,” I said, getting giggly at the end just because I was so relieved to hear that my first solo flight had landed the museum some of the money it desperately needed to survive.
“Well, it showed. They really saw the value in contributing to the museum, especially if someone like you was involved in its curation. I just wanted to call, congratulate you, and let you know that you’ll be getting a bit of a bonus for your troubles.”
I drew in a sharp breath. “Are you serious?”
“I never joke about money,” Willem said with a laugh.
“We have to celebrate when I get back,” I said. “Maybe at Desoto’s?” That was our favorite lunch spot, located just down the street from the museum. The owner was a friend of Willem’s — who wasn’t in Manhattan? — and they delivered in case we were too busy to actually get away. We’d had lunch from there more times than I could count. It was some of the best food in the city.
“You got it, kiddo, my treat.”
“How was dinner tonight?” I asked.
“It was good,” he replied. “We missed you. Denise outdid herself, as usual, and the kids got into a heated argument over politics. Good fun, all in all.” He cleared his throat, and I had an idea that he was about to get to the real reason for his phone call.
“What is it, Willem?” I started moving my foot up and down, bouncing my knee to burn off some of the apprehension. He didn’t answer right away, which meant it was big.
“I had something drop into my lap rather unexpectedly this morning, but I couldn’t really call until after the party and cleanup. I heard from a good friend of mine, Miles, who essentially runs the British Museum. We were just chatting for a bit about our families and the holiday before he got around to asking me if I knew anyone with a strong background in art history that I thought might be good for an associate curator’s position there.”
I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. And then it hit me. Was he considering leaving New York? Even an associate curator’s position at a place like the British Museum wou
ld be a step up from running things at our small gallery.
“Wait, you’re not considering-” But he cut me right off before I could get any further, and what he said next surprised me so completely, I was hardly able to breathe at first.
“I’m incredibly happy where I am and never plan to leave. This job would be for you.”
I blinked, unable to speak, to breathe, to think.
“I told Miles I would speak to you about the position. It would be great experience and would really challenge you, Sophia. I’ve loved having you at the museum. I really can’t imagine going back to how things were before you started there, but you won’t grow at such a small museum. You could stay for another few years without hurting the development of your career, but I’m not looking to step down as curator until someone wrenches the position from my cold, dead hands. It’s not fair to keep you knowing that you might not be able to move up for another twenty years or so.
“Miles has a position opening in the early spring when one of the museum’s longtime employees retires. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I think you’re well suited for it.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I know it is. But I’ve heard the way you talk about the British Museum. It was your long shot. Your dream. And look how the stars have aligned themselves.”
That much was true. I’d made a list of museums around the globe that I planned to visit. The British Museum was on the top of my list, both to visit and to work for. It helped to already speak the language. I must’ve talked Willem’s ear off for hours over the last six months about how impressed I was with the place.
“It would mean leaving my family behind, leaving you, and moving to London,” I said, finally. It seemed too enormous of a change, even more drastic than moving from Wisconsin, the state where I’d been born and raised, to New York in order to attend Cornell.
“Yes, it would. That’s why I want you to really think about it. Just keep in mind that the application — which I emailed to you right before I called so you can review it — is due in the middle of January. That means making a decision soon. I talked you up as much as I could to Miles, and he was very impressed. If you want this job, it just might be yours for the taking.”
I didn’t know whether to be flattered or terrified.
Willem chuckled gently at my silence. “You don’t have to decide right now, but I know people in the art world who have waited their entire lives for an opportunity like this without ever getting it. When the iron’s hot, you strike. Period.”
None of that made me feel any better.
“Can we talk about this in a few days?” This news, together with the wedding happening in about eighteen hours, was just too much to handle right now.
“Of course. Call whenever you like. Or email. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Willem.”
“Merry Christmas, Sophia.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too. And Diane and the kids.”
“I’ll let them know. Tell your mom congratulations from me tomorrow.”
“I will,” I assured him. “Talk to you soon.”
“Bye, kiddo.”
I hung up and put my Bluetooth headset down next to my phone, watching as the screen faded to black. I didn’t even want to consider anything that Willem had said about the British Museum right now. I had enough on my plate. I needed to get past the wedding, and then I could let myself consider if that was even an option for me.
I jumped from where I was sitting in front of the desk and went to the bed, picking the dress up by the hanger and taking it back to the garment bag to make sure it was all set for the morning. I put the shoes away and packed my jewelry and makeup in a separate bag, not letting my mind turn to focus on anything but what was immediately in front of me. Once I got through that, the rest of my life would still be there waiting for me.
Carter
The Day of the Wedding, Christmas Day
The ceremony itself was at two, followed by the intimate reception at three, giving guests time before and afterwards to spend with their own families. We needed to be at the venue no later than one, Dad insisted, which gave us a bit of time to spend together in the morning. But we were both too full of nerves to sit still or eat, so we left the house early and got to the venue at noon.
Our changing room was on one side of the wedding hall, and Alice and girls’ was at the other, so Dad and his bride wouldn’t run the risk of seeing each other before the ceremony. We didn’t have much prep work at the venue itself and our personal responsibilities were pretty easy compared to the ladies’ — just put on our tuxes, comb our hair so it looked presentable, and we were good to go.
The manager in charge of the facility for the day took us back to our changing room, letting us know Alice and her daughters had arrived even earlier than we had. We hung up our garment bags and exchanged nervous smiles.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked, grinning at Dad, who grinned back.
“I think so.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
He pulled me into a hug, and we held onto each other for much longer than we usually did. “Thanks for being here, Carter,” he whispered. “I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as my best man.”
“I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than right here on your big day,” I whispered back, meaning every word.
We broke apart, each pretending not to see the other one wiping his eyes as we went to opposite sides of the small room to unzip our garment bags and change into our tuxedos. They were jet black with a navy blue cummerbunds. We’d affix the ivory boutonnieres, intermixed with silver accents to match the wedding’s colors, to the lapels once we had them on.
After getting into the tuxes, we turned to face each other, giving mutual once overs, and smirking at the end at how damned good we looked. We chatted nervously as we walked around the facility, checking on all the details. Before we knew it, the time had come to get in position next to the altar.
The small altar was at the end of the smallish room, decorated with flowers and flickering candles, the muted winter light coming in through the large frosted windows behind where Dad and his soon-to-be wife would stand. I was Dad’s best man, and so would be positioned by him, while Sophia and Lacey, as co-maidens of honor for their mom, would be side by side next to her. In front of the altar were about fifty seats assembled and filling up with guests, mostly family and close friends from the area, all dressed well and smiling despite the fact that this was Christmas Day.
I felt my insides flood with warmth at the sight of them. These people really loved Dad and Alice. We should all be so lucky.
As two o’clock approached, Dad and I disengaged from the guests busily sliding into their seats and took our positions at the altar to one side of the minister who led the church Alice occasionally attended. The music started, and a hush fell over the crowd as they rotated in their seats, all smiles, to see Lacey and Sophia walking down the aisle, holding matching bouquets of ivory roses.
I lost the ability to breathe at the sight of Sophia approaching where I was standing next to my father. She was prettier than I’d ever seen her, dressed in a dark blue dress with a long, flowing skirt, jewels sparkling from her waist to the plunging neckline of the dress, showing off the flawless, creamy skin of her neck and chest. She was wearing silver shoes that matched the silver interlaced in the bouquet, along with earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet that seemed to be from the same set. Her dark hair was pulled on top of her head and kept there by some sort of magic that only women seemed to have, and her fingernails were shiny but colorless.
I couldn’t look away from her. If anyone’s eyes had been on me instead of where they should be — on the two gorgeous sisters keeping easy pace with each other as they came down the aisle — my naked desire for her would have been more than apparent. Sophia met my eyes only once before looking quickly away. By the time she to
ok her position next to Lacey, I’d gotten my face mostly under control.
The music changed, and the guests rotated in their seats again, this time to watch as Alice entered the room, a brilliant smile on her face. She was a great looking woman, and it was clear where Sophia and Lacey had gotten the softness of their features, as well as their matching dark eyes. She was dressed demurely in an ivory gown that matched the bouquet of white roses in her hand, a much larger version of what her daughters were holding.
I looked over at Dad only once, but he only had eyes for his new bride, and the smile on his lips calmed most of the uneasiness broiling inside me, stoked by the sight of Sophia more dressed up than I’d ever seen her. The last time had been our senior prom. We’d gone as friends, though I’d hoped we might be more by the end of the magical evening. That was high school in a nutshell for me—doing nothing overtly that might chase Sophia away, but hoping something might happen anyway.
Alice took her place next to Dad, handing her bouquet to Sophia before smiling up at the man who was about to become her second husband. I could see the love in her kind, expressive eyes, how focused she was on him, and that helped the anxiety lie a little quieter inside me. This wasn’t going to be like his marriage to Mom. I knew that because I knew Alice and how devoted she was to her daughters, and how devoted she’d been to Mr. Ray before he was killed. And there was just an easiness to Dad that hadn’t existed the whole time he was with Mom, like he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even as a kid, I’d noticed that.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister started in a booming voice, drawing everyone’s attention, including mine, which was trying hard to wander to Sophia standing just on the other side of her mother. “We are gathered here to join John Mills and Alice Ray in holy matrimony.”
I folded my hands together to control the shaking. I was more nervous than Dad, and he was the one getting married, not me. I needed to get it together. I focused hard on what the minister was saying as he read through some Bible verse about enduring love and then moved on to talking about Dad and Alice, their kids, and the love they’d found later in life which was just as important as love that was found in the innocence of youth. He then invited the couple to read the vows they’d each prepared for the other.
