After I Do

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

  There is a funeral. And a wedding. And in between, a reunion.

  At the funeral, Ryan holds my hand. Bill holds my mother. Charlie holds Natalie. Rachel holds Jonathan. Fletcher reads the eulogy.

  I’m not going to lie, his eulogy is a little weird. But he does capture the heart of Grandma. He talks about how much she loved Grandpa. He talks about how lucky he felt to live in a home where his parents loved each other. He talks about how his parents are together again, and that brings him great solace. He talks about the right things my grandmother always said at the wrong times. He talks about how we all laughed when she said she had cancer, and he tells it right. He makes it funny and idiosyncratic instead of sad and rueful.

  My mom stays quiet. She tries to keep the tears in and mostly succeeds. I am surprised to find that she does not lean on Rachel, Charlie, and me all that much. When she does cry, she turns to Bill.

  Once the funeral is over, we all go back to Fletcher’s house for food. We talk about Grandma. We coo over Jonathan. We follow Natalie around the room and ask her if she needs anything. She’s the star of the family now. She’s given us the crown jewel.

  When I’m tired and I want to go, when I’ve had enough talking, enough crying, enough dwelling, I look over at Charlie and Ryan, talking to each other in the corner, each with a beer in his hand.

  How did I forget that they are brothers in their own right? They do it so well.

  When Ryan and I finally get back to Los Angeles, we don’t go to our home or to his apartment. We go to Mila’s house.

  And waiting for us there is Thumper Cooper.

  Ryan doesn’t say anything when Thumper runs to him. He doesn’t say Down, boy or Hey, buddy or any of the things you say to an excited dog. He just holds him close. And Thumper, normally excitable and rambunctious, rests comfortably and patiently in his arms.

  Mila gives Ryan a hug of her own. “So you’re back, huh?” she asks. She knows she’ll get the details soon. She’s just glad he’s here. “Happy to see you,” she says, smiling at me.

  Ryan laughs. “Happy to be seen.”

  We thank Mila and Christina, and the three of us get into the car. We drive to our place. We get out of the car. I open the front door. We all walk in.

  Here we are. Our tiny family. Nothing’s missing anymore.

  We’re home.

  That night, Ryan gets into bed next to me. He holds me. He kisses me. He slides his hand down my body, and he says, “Show me. Show me how to do what you want.”

  And I do. And it feels better than it did with David. Because I am once again myself with the man I love.

  We forgot, for a while, how to listen to each other, how to touch each other. But we remember now.

  The next morning, I wake up and open the shoebox in the closet. I dig out my wedding ring. I put it back on.

  The wedding is a month later. It’s a hot July day. We’re at Natalie’s friend’s beach house in Malibu. What this friend does for a living, I don’t know. I would guess, judging from the fact that this house is quite literally on the beach and has one-hundred-eighty-degree ocean views from every floor, that it’s something in entertainment. There is a bonfire scheduled for late tonight and a lobster bake picnic scheduled for after the ceremony. Drinks and dancing are on the roof deck. Remind me to start hobnobbing with Hollywood producers. I would like for this to become a regular thing.

  The ceremony is starting in a few minutes. Natalie, Rachel, and I are finishing getting ready. Natalie is wearing a ­Grecian-looking dress, draped around her. Her face is flush. Her boobs are huge. Her hair is long and curled. She is wearing long earrings that are buried in her long, dark hair. Her eyes have so much life behind them.

  “Does this look right?” Rachel asks, as she fastens the halter top of her “persimmon” dress behind her neck. I assure her that it does. I know, because mine looks exactly the same.

  Natalie’s mom is helping Natalie get her shoes on. I thought Natalie’s parents would be lithe and vibrant like her, but they look entirely average. Her mom is round in the middle. Her dad is short and hefty. I’m not sure what it is about them that makes it clear that they are from Idaho, but they certainly don’t seem to be from around here. Maybe it’s the fact that they are some of the nicest, most sincere people I’ve ever met.

  Natalie’s dad knocks on the door to come in.

  “Just a minute, Harry!” Natalie’s mom calls out. “She’ll be ready in a second!”

  “I want to take a picture, Eileen!”

  “Just a second, I said!”

  Natalie looks at Rachel and me with a laugh. “Oh!” she says, the thought just coming to her. “The bouquets! I left them in the fridge.”

  “It’s cool,” I say. “I got it.” I cross out of the room through the shared bathroom and head down the stairs to the kitchen, where I can see my brother standing with Ryan and his friend Wally just outside the sliding glass doors.

  Charlie is dressed to the nines in a fitted cream suit. He looks sleek and handsome. He doesn’t look nervous. He doesn’t look shy. He looks ready. Ryan and Wally are wearing black suits with black ties. Outside on the beach, white chairs line either side of the aisle, facing the light blue sea. People are trickling in. They grab their programs. They take their seats. The minister is standing there, waiting. My mom is sitting in the first row on the right side. She is wearing a navy-blue dress. She’s got Jonathan in her arms. Bill is sitting next to her in a gray suit. Mila and Christina are a few rows back. They are having a rare moment alone without their kids. I can see Christina look over and kiss Mila’s temple. She smiles at her.

  I grab the three bouquets from the refrigerator and shake them out over the sink.

  “Any last insights?” I hear Charlie say. “Any words of advice?”

  I should head back upstairs, but I want to hear Ryan’s answer.

  “All you have to do is never give up,” he says.

  “Simple enough,” Charlie says.

  Ryan laughs. “It is, actually.”

  I hear a pat on the back, I’m not sure who is patting whom, and then I hear a third voice, which I’m assuming is Wally’s. “Dude, I have zero advice to give. Because I’ve never been married. But if it makes any difference, I think she’s great.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie says.

  “You ready?” Ryan asks.

  I hear them start walking, and I peek to see their backs as they walk out together, getting ready to take their places.

  I run back up to the bedroom to find Natalie. All four of them—Natalie, her parents, and Rachel—are ready to go. I hand Natalie her bouquet and hand one of the smaller ones to Rachel. I keep the third.

  “OK,” Rachel says. “Here we go.”

  Natalie breathes in. She looks at her dad. “Ready?”

  He nods his head. “If you are.”

  Her mom snaps a picture.

  “OK, I’m going down first,” her mom says. “I’ll see you in a second.” She kisses Natalie on the cheek and leaves before she can start crying.

  “Hoo. OK. Here we go,” Natalie says. “Any last tips?” She laughs. I assume she’s talking to her dad, but she’s talking to me. I am now a person people go to for marital advice.

  I tell her the only thing there is to tell her. “All you have to do is never give up.”

  Natalie’s dad laughs. “Listen to her,” he says. “She’s absolutely right.”

  It’s ten o’clock, and the party is still going strong. When Natalie danced with her dad, I got misty. When Charlie danced with Mom, I broke down. The sun set around eight, but it’s been a warm night. The wind off the beach is strong and cools us down. Charlie and Natalie put the baby to bed a few hours ago.

  Rachel made the cake, and it is the hit of the night. People keep asking about it. Everyone thinks it was from a very expensive bakery somewhere in Beverly Hills. I cor
rect one person who asks Rachel about it. I say, “It’s from this great new place opening up called Batter,” I say. “Location TBD.”

  “Location is on Larchmont Boulevard,” Rachel says, correcting me. When I give her an inquisitive look, she tells me the bank approved the loan.

  “When were you gonna tell me?”

  “Well, I just found out, and I didn’t want to steal the sunshine from Charlie’s wedding,” she says.

  I whisper, “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” she whispers back. “You can pretend you’re hearing it for the first time when I tell everyone next week. You’re good at that.” She smiles at me to let me know she’s teasing.

  Mom and Bill dance the night away. Later on by the rooftop bar, I point to him across the room, eating shrimp cocktail. “So the romance is alive and well, huh?” I ask Mom.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe it’s OK to stick around a little longer than the honeymoon phase.”

  “Wow,” I say. “I’m impressed. Are you thinking about letting him move in?”

  She laughs at me. “I’m thinking about it. All I’m doing is thinking. Have you seen this, by the way?”

  “What?” I say, turning my head to look where she’s pointing. Over in the far corner of the dance floor, Rachel is now dancing with Wally.

  “Interesting, no?”

  I think about how Rachel would want me to answer. “Yeah,” I say, shrugging. “We’ll see what happens.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  The music changes. You know the party is reaching its peak when the DJ plays “Shout.”

  Ryan runs up to me. “Baby! We gotta dance!”

  I put my drink down and turn to my mother. “If you’ll excuse me,” I say.

  “Certainly,” she says.

  We run into the crowd. We surround Charlie and Natalie. We join Rachel and Wally. We sing our hearts out. And because “Shout” is the type of song that brings everyone onto the dance floor, Mom and Bill hop in just as Natalie’s parents make their way into the circle. Soon Mila and Christina join us, and even Uncle Fletcher can’t resist. We dance together, twisting side-to-side, crouching lower and jumping higher as the song plays on, forgetting to worry about whether we look silly, forgetting to worry about anything at all.

  I look at the people in this circle with me—my family, my friends, my husband—and I am overwhelmed with hope for the future.

  I don’t know if everyone is as thankful for this moment as I am. I don’t know if everyone here understands how fragile life and love can be. I don’t know if they are thinking about that right now.

  I just know that I’ve learned it for myself. And I’ll never forget it.

  A few months later, it’s a Wednesday night. My night to pick whatever dinner I want. I decide to order from the Vietnamese place down the street and then think better of it. Ryan has had a hard day at work. I’m going to order us a pizza.

  But before I do, Ryan waves me over to his computer.

  “Uh . . . Lauren?” he says.

  “Yeah?” I say, walking toward him.

  “Remember when you said you wrote to that woman?”

  “What woman?”

  “Ask Allie?”

  I sit down next to him. Thumper is at his feet. “Yeah,” I say.

  “Well, it looks like she wrote back to you. Are you ‘Lost in Los Angeles’?”

  • • •

  Dear Lost in Los Angeles,

  I’m going to let you in on a little secret. It’s a lesson learned by those who have faced the most miserable of tragedies, and it’s a secret that I suspect you yourself already know: the sun will always rise. Always.

  The sun rises the next day after mothers lose their babies, after men lose their wives, after countries lose wars. The sun will rise no matter what pain we encounter. No matter how much we believe the world to be over, the sun will rise. So you can’t go around assessing love by whether or not the sun rises. The sun doesn’t care about love. It just cares about rising.

  And the other little piece of information that I think you need to know is that there are no rules in marriage. I know it would be easier if there were. I know we all sometimes hope for them; cut-and-dried answers would make the decisions easier. Black-and-white problems would be simpler to solve. But there simply isn’t a rule that works for every marriage, for every love, for every family, for every relationship.

  Some people need more boundaries, some people need fewer. Some marriages need more space, some marriages need more intimacy. Some families need more honesty, some families need more kindness. There’s no single answer for any of it.

  So I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you if you should be with your husband or not. I can’t tell you if you need him or want him. Need and want are words we define for ourselves.

  Here is what I can tell you. All that matters in this life is that you try. All that matters is that you open your heart, give everything you have, and keep trying.

  You and your husband reached a point in your marriage where most people would give up. And you didn’t. Let that speak to you. Let that guide you.

  Do you have more to give your marriage? If you do, give it everything you’ve got.

  Much love,

  Allie

  • • •

  I print out the letter and put it in the shoebox in the closet. It’s the first thing you see when you open it now; it’s on top of all the keepsakes and mementos. I think of it as the last piece of advice my grandmother ever gave me.

  Ever gave us all.

  And I intend to follow that advice.

  I don’t know if Rachel’s bakery is going to succeed.

  I don’t know if Charlie and Natalie will stay together.

  I don’t know if my mom will move in with Bill.

  I don’t know if Ryan and I will celebrate our fiftieth anniversary.

  But I can tell you that we are all going to try.

  We’re all going to give it everything we’ve got.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book is dedicated to my mother, Mindy, and my brother, Jake, because I would not be able to write about family without them. Thank you both for being so supportive and encouraging. The same goes for Linda Morris, an extraordinarily exceptional grandmother. And much thanks to the rest of the Jenkins and Morris families.

  Thank you to the Reid and Hanes families, including but certainly not limited to the Encino clan of Rose, Warren, Sally, Bernie, Niko, and Zach. Words cannot express my gratitude for your unyielding and sincere support. I could not have married into a more loving family.

  I am lucky enough to have far too many supportive friends to name and that alone makes me immensely grateful every day of my life. In addition to the wonderful friends I thanked in my first book, special attention must go to the early readers of this one: Erin Fricker, Colin Rodger, Andy Bauch, Julia Furlan, and Tamara Hunter. I am also hugely thankful to Zach Fricker for answering every medical question I have with a curmudgeonly zeal.

  Carly Watters, my cheerleader and first line of defense, I’d be a starving artist without you. You also consistently prove that Canadians are the nicest people in the world.

  Greer Hendricks, you make every book infinitely better in ways both big and small. Your expertise and intuition are invaluable. Sarah Cantin, you make being a professional writer feel easy. To the copy editors, cover designers, and publicity team at Atria, thank you. Atria feels like family I only see on the Internet.

  I’ve been blessed with fellow authors who have shared their audience and time with me: Sarah Pekkanen, Amy Hatvany, Sarah Jio, Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus, and many more. Thank you all so much. I feel so lucky to be the recipient of your kindness and support.

  To the woman who opened up her heart to me and confided the story of her own beau
tiful and fragile marriage, I cannot thank you enough for your time and trust.

  Special thanks go to my pit bull, Rabbit Reid, for being the apple of my eye. Rabbit, you can’t read and you don’t speak English, but I think you know how important you are to my every day. I also owe a great deal of thanks to Owl Reid, a dog so noble and good that I honestly believe I’m a better person for having known her. If anyone is thinking about getting a dog, give pit bulls a chance. There is no love quite like it.

  And lastly, my husband, Alex Reid: This book is as much yours as it is mine. Every sentence I write is as much yours as it is mine.

  AFTER I DO

  TAYLOR JENKINS REID

  A Readers Club Guide

  QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. Read through Lauren’s flashbacks of her and Ryan’s relationship, leading up to the night of the Dodgers game. At what point did you notice a shift in their dynamic? Discuss with the group.

  2. Early in the novel, Lauren playfully says of Ryan, “He always loved making me say the things he wanted to say." In what ways does this become a loaded assessment of their relationship?

  3. Turn to when Lauren and her mother are discussing marriage. Lauren says that she doesn’t want to fail at her marriage, which her mother dismisses: “If you stay married for a number of years and you have a happy time together and then you decide you don’t want to be married anymore and you choose to go be happy with someone else or doing something else, that’s not a failure.” Do you agree with her?

  4. Even though the underlying question of the narrative is whether Lauren and Ryan’s marriage will survive, Ryan himself is not an active character for the majority of the novel, and we spend much of our time with other people in Lauren’s life. How does observing Lauren in these dynamics enhance our understanding of her? And did you have a favorite supporting character?