by Lori L. Otto
“Because we’ve spent so much time living our lives… and not looking at them through lenses. Everyone else seems to capture us through the eyes of their cameras. It’s… it’s something we’ve come to loathe, I think.” I hadn’t even thought to look out the window all this while, but when I finally do, I see crowds of people lined up behind the roped-off streets. No wonder Max is so shaken today. This must bring back memories of the inaugural parade in DC, and of the chaos of the day when he got shot.
“It stops today,” he declares. “Everyone in this car is a part of our family, and I want our photos lining the walls of my house, celebrating all the moments of our lives.”
“I agree. We’ll make more of an attempt. I certainly will with my kids… for all of us.” I look around the car, and everyone agrees to make the same effort. “And we need to do more things as a family. I worry that… we won’t all be here this close forever.
“Careers or, you know, anything could take any one of us away from Manhattan… at any time.”
He points at me. “You’re not taking my grandkids from me.”
I shake my head. “No.”
He looks at Will, too. “Don’t take that little boy of yours, either. I’m planning a baseball league, and I’ve got my pitcher and designated hitter lined up with your sons, so… don’t ruin my dream,” he jokes.
“I’m staying where Jon is. He fucking moved down the street to be closer to me. What kind of an asshole would I be to pick up and leave, right?” he asks. “Sorry about the language.”
“Will, I don’t give a shit,” Jack says, causing us all to laugh. “There are so many bigger things in life to worry about. We’re all adults here. Right now, anyway.”
When we finally get to the church, I offer to let Jack get out first. “I’ll go last… maybe gauge who gets the most screams–Callen or Will,” he teases.
“My money’s on Callen,” I tell him.
“I’ll take that bet.” I’m intrigued by Jack’s playful offer. “I’ll put twenty on Will,” he says.
Joel taps me on the shoulder and signs, “Twenty on Callen.”
Nyall disagrees. “Twenty on Will.”
“A hundred on myself,” Callen says.
“Yeah. A hundred on Cal, and I don’t gamble, but… still. A hundred on Cal,” my brother agrees. I laugh at his self-deprecating bet.
Before I get out, I summarize everything. “That’s 240 on Callen and 40 on Will. Winners split the pot?” Everyone agrees.
Once we get inside, Ja’nese, Trey and Coley’s wedding coordinator, leads us to a back room where we’re out of the way of arriving guests. Callen’s still in shock that Will got more attention than he did, but I don’t think he took into account his new hair style, which is really short and a darker color–so, not trademark Callen McNare. Maybe people didn’t recognize him.
“You guys just give your money to Nyall,” Jack says, taking out his phone. “I’m good.”
Coley’s oldest brother looks pretty happy with that arrangement.
“Men,” Jack announces after clearing his throat.
Will’s bandmate, Peron, shows up with Hampton just as we’re organizing ourselves for a picture. The little boy stands in between my brother and me. I flip his collar down and smooth out his windblown hair.
“Get in the picture, Mr. Holland,” Ja’nese says, taking his phone from him. He walks around behind us, finding a spot where he can be seen. Peron grabs his phone, too, and snaps a few photos of his own. “Such a handsome group.”
“Thanks to this one,” Will says as he messes up the hair I’d just fixed.
“Where’s Willow?” Hampton asks. “Don’t I get to walk down the aisle with her?”
I smile and laugh as I look at his father. “She’s with the bridal party in another room.”
“He’s right,” Ja’nese says. “He needs to be with them. Let’s go, stud.”
“Hampton, remember what we talked about!” Peron yells while his son gleefully follows the coordinator down the hall. He looks at me. “He wanted to kiss her at the end of the aisle.”
I shake my head. “Oh, no. That is not a good idea.”
“I’ve told him…”
I remember back to our sexual assault conversation and laugh out loud, then immediately worry that my youngest daughter will react as her uncles taught her after dinner that night if he tries to make a move on her.
“Max taught her a self-defense move, and, uh… I’ll apologize in advance if your son ends up with a broken arm in the middle of church.”
Will laughs, too.
“Shit,” Peron says, smiling. “What can I say? I warned him. He just likes her so much and got it stuck in his head that a kiss is how you show a girl how much you like her.”
“You put that thought in his head,” Will says.
Peron explains. “Three years ago, he asked me why I kissed Finola so much, and yeah. That’s how I answered. It’s how you show a girl how much you like her. I did not expect that to stick with him like it did… and I can’t undo it.”
“Well, leave it to Willow, then. She’ll undo it,” I assure him. “Just one kiss, because she’s not ready.”
“I don’t blame her. Not one bit.”
“Okay, guys.” Ja’nese looks down at her clipboard. “Let’s line up like we did last night. Jack? Emi’s waiting for you at the entrance down the hall.”
“Noted. Guys, good luck. Do my boy proud.”
“We will,” I tell him as I stand directly in front of the wedding planner. Everyone files in behind me: Callen, Joel, Nyall and then Will. She does one final check of all of us, fixing flowers and ties and coats and hair, and then tells us to go stand in the back of the church at the grand St. Patrick’s Cathedral and wait for our best man and groom to show up, which they will do–ceremoniously–in a few minutes.
Once we’re settled in our spots, the guests notice and quiet down, finding their places and facing the front of the church. I see where Luca and Charlie are seated toward the back, safely with the cousins. Will’s son seems to be sleeping at the moment; mine is awake and taking in his surroundings, but currently content with things. I’m comforted just knowing he’s close by.
With the church doors open, and a few people still making their way inside, I see my brother and Trey walking up the steps to a cacophony of applause. I’m proud to see Max standing tall, keeping pace with his best friend, and pulling off a look of confidence that I haven’t seen in months. At the back of the church, Ja’nese meets up with them, putting everything in place.
Both of them look incredibly handsome. Max’s eyes are still glassy, but they don’t affect his good looks in the slightest. I smile at both of them, and pat Max on his good shoulder after he retrieves the rings from Callen and exchanges a brief kiss with him. The tender moment is met with a few swoons from the pews from curious people who are now watching.
“Why am I nervous?” Trey whispers to me. “Were you nervous?”
“I drank. Did you drink?”
He holds up his fingers to motion that he had a little.
“I drank more.” I wink at him. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve been in front of larger crowds. And she was it for you–from the moment you met her,” I remind him. “She’s amazing.”
His shoulders relax as he nods his head.
I watch as Max hands Ja’nese the rings for her to give to the ring bearer, and as he does, I see him tell her to guard them with her life. She slides them both on her pinky and swears that she will, then tells him that he and Trey should head up to the front of the church. Heads turn as my brother-in-law makes his entrance, and Max follows closely behind him, still walking with his shoulders back and his head held high.
“He looks okay,” I tell Callen.
“He will be.”
Finally, the church doors close, and silence settles over the building as the street noise is blocked out. It feels like a private moment, although the church is still packed with hundreds of fr
iends of Trey, Coley and their families.
The women–and girls, and Hampton–come in through a side door, joining us in the narthex. Everyone looks absolutely beautiful, my daughters especially, both with minimal makeup. Edie’s hair is long, thick and curled, and she looks so much like her mother did when she would dress up for occasions just like this one.
She glances up at me, smiling as if she knows exactly how lovely she looks.
I signal for them to come to me, taking a knee so they can hear me speak in a whisper. I hug each of them, careful not to mess up their dresses or hair. “You girls are stunning. I’m so proud of you both.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” they say in unison.
“Are you ready?”
Edie nods her head, but Willow rolls her eyes at me. “Do I have to do this with him?” she asks, giving Hampton the side-eye.
“Yes, Wils. He’s a sweet boy who has a crush on you. He can’t help it, okay? What boy wouldn’t like a smart girl like you, huh?”
“I just feel like… we’re too old for this.”
I nod. “Yeah, you’re not little kids, but… they wanted you both to be a part of this, so… you’re doing this for Trey and Coles, okay? And then you get cake after.”
“Look, she gave us necklaces, Daddy,” Edie says. “Like Mama’s.”
“Girls, we need to line up,” Ja’nese says, taking Willow and placing her next to Hampton. I check out my oldest daughter’s necklace, though. It’s the same style as the pendant I gave Liv when she was 16–her Choisie necklace. But Edie’s name is engraved in this one, and I assume Willow’s in etched in hers.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, looking around for Coley to thank her, but I guess she’ll make the grand entrance from outside, just like Trey did. “You ready?” I offer her my arm as music begins to play and we head to the back of the line behind Callen and one of Coley’s college friends, Pryana.
“You’ll do great, Wils!” she says to her sister, possibly a little too loudly, as I hear a few people in the back of the church laughing. Unfazed, though, Willow and Hampton begin their walk up the aisle toward Trey and Max. I see my brother signaling for her to slow down as she tries to get away from her partner, who’s attempting to hold her hand. This results in a clump of petals toward the front of the church, rather than an even distribution, but her job was done.
Max takes the rings from Hampton and slips them inside his jacket pocket, and I watch as Emi and Peron get the kids settled into the front row–separated by Jack and Emi. No kiss was exchanged or even attempted.
After watching the rest of the coupled bridesmaids and groomsmen, Edie and I begin to walk down the aisle. At last glance, she was all smiles, but as I hear the reaction from the guests, and know what’s going through their minds, I can’t help but feel the same way. Livvy should be walking on my arm right now. How can it be that she’s not?
I keep my focus to the front, on the cross hanging on the wall, asking the man questions there are no answers for. Why did you take her? Why leave my girls with no mother? Why didn’t you let her see her son, even once? If she had to go, why didn’t you let me say goodbye? Why couldn’t I tell her I love her just once more? Why couldn’t I hear the same from her?
The statue’s purpose is not there to shield my questions or take blame, but today, I feel unburdened, casting off this culpability onto someone else–someone who doesn’t look like a faceless deity, but one who looks human. I realize many believe Jesus Christ is so much more than that. From what I’ve read, he was a great man. But that’s just it, he was a man, just like I am. Like Trey is. Like Jack is. A human being, like Livvy was. And in that sense, I can believe in him more than many things religions teach, more than many things in the Bible. It’s not the way Christians want me to see him, but, to me, it’s not a bad way to look upon him.
I’m on autopilot but am aware enough of my surroundings to stop before I reach the steps where the rest of the bridal party is. I give my daughter a kiss on the cheek and guide her to her place next to Pryana. Stella, the maid of honor, is already coming toward us by the time I step between Max and Callen. When she assumes her position, the church gets silent, and the organ begins to play the wedding march, causing all the guests to stand.
The back doors open, and Coley walks in wearing a slender, strapless gown that subtly flares out toward the bottom. It looks lacy from here–she looks beautiful, and I’d love to turn around to see what Trey thinks, but I know that I can see it on video later, as there’s a cameraman just a few feet from me, capturing the moment. It must be a good response, though, judging from the expressions on the bridesmaids’ faces.
In the absence of her father, Coley’s mom walks her down the aisle. Again, a tinge of sadness dampens the celebration, but it’s only momentary. Trey steps down to meet her, to take his bride’s hand from her mother, and smiles enliven the church again. Carefully, he helps her to the top of the stairs, and I can finally see his face, rosy in color, but beaming with excitement. He doesn’t look nervous at all anymore now that Coley’s at his side.
“You look lovely,” I mouth to her. She nods to thank me.
As writers, I was surprised to hear that the two of them wouldn’t be reading their own vows, but discovered it was because it wasn’t allowed in the Catholic church.
“We wrote things for the reception,” Trey assured me.
“There will be a poem,” Coley had added.
I had been to a few Catholic weddings in my life–all of them with Liv–and as lengthy as they were, we’d always gotten through them together with little inside jokes, laughter about songs, and sweet, intimate moments of hand-holding, or even a stolen kiss every now and then. She is noticeably absent from this service in so many ways today, but they do request prayers for her in one part of the service. While she’s not here, she wasn’t forgotten. I knew there was no threat of that, but it was comforting to hear her name, nonetheless.
Toward the end of the ceremony, while the rings are being exchanged, I find myself in the middle of Callen and Max sneaking in their own private moment of hand-holding behind my back. I don’t even care that my ass cheek is getting bumped periodically. The fact that they’re doing this in St. Patrick’s makes me proud that they’re in my family, and I wouldn’t do anything to stop them.
After the pronouncement of man and wife has been made, and a conservative kiss has been exchanged, Trey and Coley walk down the aisle as a married couple for the first time. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m so happy I was a witness to it. I feel like I’ve been a part of their life together from the beginning, when it wasn’t easy for them at all.
Stella taps Pryana on the arm when she makes her way down the steps, and the two of them link arms and walk out together. Confused, I look around, but realize their mode of exit is to let Max and Callen walk out together. I turn around and hug them both quickly before taking Edie back down toward the back of the church. She relishes the attention, but I think she would have much rather made the trek alone, like a runway model or something.
As I get to the back of the church, I hear a familiar squeal and look in its direction. Lexi’s bouncing Luca, but he seems very much upset by the loud organ and the restlessness of the crowd around him.
“Wait here for your uncles,” I tell Edie, veering to the side to take my son in an effort to stop his tears. He wails loudly, his expression so heartbreaking it makes me want to cry with him. “Luca, baby, what is it?” I ask him, trying to find the quietest place in the back. When I realize there is no such place, I step just outside the doors, even though I know we’re going to draw attention there, too. Even with the shouting there, the open air allows for the noise to escape. I reach inside the diaper bag and find a pacifier, which he takes right away. His sweet little eyes meet mine. “I got you, kid. Don’t you worry about anything. I’ve always got you.”
He reaches his fist up toward me. Whether it’s an intentional move or not–because of course, it’s not–I take it as one, a
nd bump it with my own. This is one time I’ll check the tabloid sites–I wouldn’t mind having a picture of this moment.
Will opens the door and summons me back inside for photos with the bride and groom as some of the guests begin streaming out. Now calm again, I hand off Luca to Lexi and follow Will up the north aisle to the front of the church, where everyone in the bridal party, except Trey and Coley, are waiting.
Ten minutes later, they show up with the photographer, and we make quick work of the requisite photos. I notice Jack snapping quite a few candids of his own in between takes.
When we’re finished, Shea, Will and I say goodbye to our sons for the evening. I’ll be picking up Luca after the reception, but Will and Shea have opted to take their first night away from the baby today.
Bay Room is impressive at night. I’d been here once for a conference during the daytime last year, but it was a rainy day and the view was wasted on us. Tonight, the sky is clear, and the city is beautiful from the 60th floor.
Coley had a third of the space transformed into a bridesmaid’s lounge, where she and the other ladies could change clothes and touch up their makeup after the wedding. Before the rest of the women arrive, I go behind the BRIDAL PARTY ONLY sign and peek inside with my daughters to see what luxuries await them. There are healthy snacks and drinks–champagne for the women and sparkling juice for the girls–and embroidered pink robes, along with three plush couches. Music is already playing through speakers strategically placed throughout. There’s a huge mirror behind four individual vanities, each with beauty products and ample lighting for any primping necessary. In the back, I see a rack with clothes, and behind that must be a separate changing area for them.
Coley’s thought of everything.
“Do you see your clothes back there? What you’re changing into?” I ask my girls.
They both run along the rug to the clothing. “That’s mine!” Edie says, pointing to a short, white dress that’s even less suited for winter than the one she’s been wearing all day.
