A Holland and a Fighter

by Lori L. Otto

  “These are mine!” Willow yanks a navy-blue jumpsuit off its hanger and starts to lift her gown over her head.

  “Wils! Not yet!”

  “Daddy, I’m cold and I’m sick of this scratchy thing!”

  “Can’t you wait for Aunt Shea to help you? Their car hasn’t even arrived yet.”

  She pouts. “Daddy, I’ll wait,” Edie says, “but I’ll take Willow into the dressing room and help her… but you’re not supposed to be in here.” She crosses her arms and nods her head, her lips pursed. “Girls only.”

  “That’s why–I know, bunny,” I say with a chuckle. “Thank you for helping your sister. Do one more favor for me, okay?”

  “Anything you ask,” she says, smiling.

  “Don’t ruin your appetite with those snacks. Don’t eat the dessert stuff. Have some fruit. Okay?”

  “I promise.” Willow takes her outfit to the back. “And I promise for her, too.”

  “Thank you for taking care of your sister. I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”

  “We’ll be good, Daddy.”

  I smile, thinking of how much Edie has matured in the past six months. She used to be our handful, and while Willow seems to be going through a phase, it’s to be expected. So much has changed in our lives. But my oldest daughter impresses me more every day. Am I sad she has to grow up faster than I’d like her to? Sure; but I’m proud of her, nonetheless.

  Max and Callen are among the next wave of guests to show up. They keep me company, looking out the grand windows at the Statue of Liberty, as I wait for the girls. Their fingers are still linked together, as they were during the ceremony and through most of the pictures that were taken. Max seems to be the one holding on, and it’s not like him–not to be affectionate, but to be needy.

  “How are you doing?” I ask him, patting him on the back.

  He simply nods and sighs.

  “There’ll be much fewer people here than at the church,” I assure him. “I think they got down the guest list to 160?” I look to Callen for confirmation.

  “Yeah, I think that’s right.”

  “And it’s a big space. Huge ceilings,” I comment on the architectural details. “There’s also a big dance floor around the corner there–lots of space–with an open bar.”

  “Open bar, you say?” Max asks.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “I’ll be back.” He releases his partner. “Want anything?”

  “I’ll take… whatever craft beer they have,” I tell him.

  “Club soda. Can you carry all that?”

  “Not a problem.”

  “So,” Callen says. “How much do you want to bet I’ll get him out on the dance floor tonight?”

  “Dude, you ready to lose another bet?” I ask him. “Our luck isn’t so good today… and you’re asking me to bet on you… again. Seems like a dumb move.”

  “We’re dancing,” he assures me, “on that dance floor. Fifty bucks.”

  “Are you hard up for cash, Callen McNare?” I tease him. He laughs. “Fifty bucks says the only reason his sneakers hit that dance floor is to make his way to and from the bar.”

  We shake on it. “This won’t even be a challenge.”

  “I know my brother likes to dance,” I concede, “but that was the Max I knew before the shooting. The outgoing one. The life of the party one. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “He’s coming back.”

  “You keep saying that,” I respond.

  He pats me on the back. “I believe in him.”

  I don’t know what it is about this kid these days, but he just keeps saying things to me that… that move me. I turn to him and pull him into a hug, surprising him.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck?” Max calls out, his voice echoing in the cavernous room and turning more than a few heads. Luckily, most of the guests are familiar with my brother and his lack of a filter.

  “Fraternal,” I say, putting my hands up. He sticks the beer he got me into my left one.

  “Sorry, just… I never know when you’ll be on the market again, and… this guy’s taken.”

  Smiling, I answer him. “Not anytime soon… and not my type. I wasn’t born that way.”

  “Laaaadies and gentlemen,” a deep voice says over a sound system. “Mr. and Mrs. Trey and Coley Holland!” In front of us, from the elevator lobby, my brother-in-law and his wife emerge, stepping in between the designated East and South rooms of the building and kissing to raucous applause. I spy Edie and Willow rushing out of the dressing area at the last minute, clapping, jumping up and down, and shouting for their aunt and uncle. Willow’s in her jumpsuit, her hair tucked under a blue beanie with silver-sequined stripes. The tresses look shorter than normal, no doubt because of the curls that linger from her afternoon style. She looks adorable, but I can tell she has a freshly applied layer of gloss to her lips. I let it go. She runs over to me while Edie follows Coley into the room again, where Trey leaves her with another kiss.

  As soon as she disappears behind the temporary curtains, he removes the tie that’s been undoubtedly driving him crazy all day and unfastens the top button of his shirt. While Trey is inundated by congratulations from family members and old friends, Max adds the dark gray neckwear to the lighter gray one that’s been hanging around his neck all day. Even though Ja’nese had nagged him multiple times to actually knot his tie, he refused, preferring to stick with his signature look that had been accepted by all of us long ago.

  Max walks over to Callen, holding one end of each tie in his hands. “One for each wrist later.”

  Callen nods, blushing, clearly embarrassed by the suggestion. As much as I don’t want to think about my brother and his partner in the bedroom, I seriously doubt that bondage is something they do–not with Max’s arm, wrist and hand being as messed up as they are… but I know my brother likes to portray this illusion of mystery and have an element of shock in what they do, so I take every insinuation of his sex life with a grain of salt.

  “Can I have one of your ties, Uncle Max?” Willow asks him.

  He cocks his head and scratches his chin, not quite expecting that question from my little girl. “It’s a little selfish of me to keep them both,” he tells her, bending over and removing the one he’d had on all day. “This one will contrast more with your outfit. Love it, by the way.”

  “Shea and Coley bought it for me.”

  He ties the tie perfectly around her neck but loosens it to hang more casually. “This looks fucking chill, Wils.” She puts her hand over her mouth in shock. “You’re gonna turn heads in that.”

  Callen hands her a dollar bill. I’m sure I’m going to get a note from one of their teachers any day now that they’ve used that word. It’s just a word. I know this, but their teachers aren’t going to go for that. Most of their classmates’ parents won’t, either.

  “Where’d you learn how to tie a tie like that?” I ask Max, making the conscious decision to not be critical of him tonight.

  “Who do you think dresses Callen?”

  “It’s true.”

  “Look at her shoes!” Max exclaims as my youngest daughter runs toward the front of the South Room to Jack and Emi. “Vans.” He swipes at a non-existent tear. “Raising her right, Jon.”

  “She idolizes her uncles,” I tell him. “You, Will, Cal… don’t be surprised if she emulates your every move.”

  He licks his lips nervously and starts rubbing on his bad shoulder. I honestly didn’t mean anything by it.

  “The skateboard being the perfect example,” I add. “Have you seen her on it lately? She can do a small… jump… whatever, on it.”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “Yeah. You need to go with her again. When it’s warmer, of course. Show her the next trick.”

  “Definitely.”

  Max and Callen see Will and Shea at our table and decide to sit down. I wait at the back for Edie, and eventually, it’s just Trey and me lingering there.


  “Congratulations.” I shake his hand again. “How many years did you guys date?”

  “Nearly six,” he says. “I can’t believe it took us this long.”

  “Me, neither. You’ve been engaged forever.”

  “Yeah. I wish we had done it earlier. Obviously. But even now, sometimes it feels like we’re too young to be married. We’re younger than you and Liv were.”

  “True. When you know, you know, though. No point in putting it off because you didn’t hit some milestone, or some age, right?”

  “Definitely.” He plays with the ring on his finger. “We’ll always have some goal we haven’t reached yet. We’ll always be working toward something. There have to be rewards along the way. This is a big one.”

  “Possibly the biggest.”

  A few of the bridesmaids file out of the changing room, looking elegant in colorful cocktail dresses. Edie finally skips out, her long locks bouncing, her white, knee-length dress billowing from her waist. There are six bright, multi-colored butterflies attached to it–one on the shoulder and the rest on the skirt. They look real, the way their wings extend from the fabric. It’s a beautiful dress, one that somehow reminds me of Liv’s free spirit.

  Coley steps out from behind her and flips the long hair that had been hanging loosely down Edie’s back over the shoulder without the butterfly. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” she asks me.

  Trey puts his arm around his bride and kisses her again.

  “Breathtaking. I feel like her mom’s in the room with us.”

  “There’s something about it, right?” Coley says.

  “Absolutely.” I reach for Edie’s hand, and we leave Trey and Coley behind as I guide my daughter to her seat at the kids’ table. Hampton has snagged a prime spot, right in between my girls. I squeeze his shoulders and speak quietly in his right ear. “Behave.”

  “Yes, sir. I will, sir,” he says nervously. I laugh, though, patting him on the back, hoping that he knows I was teasing him. He’s always been a sweet kid with good intentions. Willow even looks to be in good spirits sitting next to him. She has one of her books about space opened up toward him; I guess she was trying to teach him something.

  As I’d walked through the tables, I noticed eight place settings at each one–except for two tables. There are only seven at the one in which I’m seated, and the same is true for the one in which Coley’s mom is seated. It’s a thoughtful and bittersweet gesture by both Trey and Coley to not replace their loved ones at these wedding party tables, but also not to leave a stark reminder that they aren’t here tonight.

  My place card is right in between my brothers, and I can’t imagine a more perfect place to sit tonight. The girls are one table away and within my eyeline, and my in-laws are at the table beside me. The bride and groom have their own table, where they can enjoy a modicum of peace and quiet during dinner in between receiving guests and dancing and doing toasts and more dancing… all the things that exhausted Liv and me on our wedding day.

  “How are you holding up?” Will asks me.

  “I’m good,” I tell him honestly. “It’s been a beautiful day. She would have loved to have been here to see Trey and Coley and the girls… but I feel her here,” I tell him, blushing, because I know he’s staunch in his beliefs. “I know she’s with us.”

  “I think so, too.” I look at him with suspicion. “Just look at the stars,” he adds, glancing over the Hudson, where we’re high and far enough out to actually see hundreds of them.

  I smile. “Thanks, Will.”

  Before dinner begins, a sea of servers floods the tables to pour champagne. Jack stands up, taking a few paces toward the head table and taps his fork to his glass a couple of times to get the guests’ attention.

  He clears his throat. “I’ll make this short and sweet to follow tradition. I’ve apparently been giving toasts wrong at weddings, but these literary geniuses who just tied the knot have done their research and given me my orders.”

  “That’s not true, Dad!” Trey argues. Coley is shaking her head, too.

  “Stella, Pryana, Kamiesha, Lucy, Shea… and especially Edie… thank you, ladies, for assisting Coley as she prepared for the big day. Since she got engaged, her life has vastly changed,” he says as his eyes water. “Since they set a date, our world has, too. But somehow, you were able to make sure the light that this woman has brought into my son’s life never dulled, never lost its shine or sparkle, in the most difficult of days. And today, she is more radiant than ever. To me, you’ve achieved what I thought was impossible. For tradition’s sake, here’s a toast to the lovely bridesmaids.” He raises his glass, and we all toast with him. I make sure to look at all six of the bridesmaids, crediting each of them with the important role they played in the ceremony today.

  “And bucking tradition,” my father-in-law adds, “to our little–not-so-little–miracle, Jackson, and the wonder that wandered into his life one unexpected day at Columbia, Coley. We’re all grateful for that moment of fate, surprising as it was to all of us. Once we met you, we knew you would someday be a Holland, not only in getting to know the gracious woman you are, but also in understanding the love our son had for you then, and the love that has continued to grow between you two ever since. Welcome to the family, Coley, and congratulations to both of you. To Jackson and Coley!”

  “To Trey and Coley!” most of us respond.

  “Ladies first?” Trey asks his new wife.

  She nods and stands. “See, Jack? I’m bucking tradition, too… so thank you for doing so. And thank you for the kind words. Mom, I love you so much. Thank you for supporting all of my crazy dreams, even when they seemed unattainable. I am forever grateful that you let me and Joel journey off to see what New York had to offer, because I found everything I ever wanted here. I wish Dad could have seen me today,” she says, maintaining her composure, “but I know he was happy with the choices I made–especially with this one.” She reaches for Trey’s hand.

  “Emi and Jack, not only have I always felt a part of your family, but you’ve always warmly welcomed my brothers and parents into your lives, too. No one has bigger hearts than the Hollands, and I hope that I can live up to the name.” Unexpectedly, she breaks down. “To live up to the expectations of a… a daughter.”

  My eyes drip tears with hers, and I use my napkin to wipe them away.

  Jack walks across the room and hands her his handkerchief. “Have I taught you nothing?” he says jokingly to Trey. We all appreciate the laugh in an otherwise particularly sad moment.

  Coley wipes her face and takes a few breaths. “In Trey’s defense, I used his handkerchief in the limo over here. My emotions got the best of me–happy tears–so… you’ve taught him so much, Jack. Be proud of him.”

  “I am,” he says, his voice caught in his throat.

  “I, too, want to thank Stella and the bridesmaids for all of their help… and Edie, for stepping in and doing such a wonderful job. You may not know the importance of your role today, but someday, you will.

  “But most of all, I have… something to say to Trey… it is a poem. Our vows that we couldn’t exchange in church, so if you don’t mind, we’d like you all to be witnesses to an extension of our ceremony here.

  “Fair warning, it is a love poem. Expect an ombré of red over here,” she says, pointing to her groom.

  “My lungs never gasped without your air

  My lips never swelled without the touch of yours

  My blood never rushed without the beat of your heart

  My skin never dampened without your cover

  And I swear, they never will, without you

  “I never heard sound until you called my name

  I never tasted sweetness before your kiss

  I never saw beauty before I stared into your eyes

  I never felt safe until your hands touched me

  And I swear, I never will, without you

  “And as I walk through my life–

  The days, months, years


  As I walked down the aisle today–

  The seconds, the anticipation of hours, minutes

  I know I have never loved until you showed me love

  And I swear, I never will, without you”

  Coley’s delivery is smooth and confident, as I would expect it to be. I’ve seen her do readings of her poetry in bookshops before. What I don’t expect is Trey’s response–he’s barely a shade of light pink… and that poem was all about their sex life.

  Our little Trey is growing up. Will and I exchange a look with one another, so I know he’s thinking the same thing.

  Trey stands up to give her a kiss–a real one–one that might be prompted by the exact poem she just read to him. There’s a lot of cat-calling in the room, and I make it a point not to look at Jack and Emi. I’m sure Trey’s making that same effort, and that’s likely why he’s remained cool and collected so far.

  “To my husband,” Coley says, one arm still around him, the other reaching for her champagne glass, “and to never being without you.”

  They both drink and he kisses her again before he begins to speak.

  “I…” He sighs as she settles into her seat and folds her hands under her chin. She blinks up at him innocently. “I don’t know how I can compete with that, but…” He bites his lip and admires her again. “Wow, am I lucky…”

  The room laughs and cheers in agreement.

  “Fortunately, I don’t have to compete. She’s my teammate. She’s on my side… for life. She has been from the start.

  “First, thank you to Stella, Shea, Pree, Kamiesha, Lucy and Eeds… I mean, Coley is the farthest thing from Bridezilla, but I know you had some days when you had to delegate things to yourself because she didn’t want to burden anyone, so I appreciate you taking control and helping her out… because she’s too nice sometimes.”

  He grins and nods to the ladies who helped out his bride. “So, thank you.

  “I also have to thank my groomsmen–and I hope it’s okay for me to do that–but you’re all brothers to me, and most of you have been here with me all my adult life and most of my childhood, too. With the help of my parents… my sister… you got me here. You helped me become the man I am today, and I’m grateful. And Max? I can’t say this enough, but… thank you… for today.”