by Isabel Jolie
I choose to ignore Chase. He’s a friend of these guys, but I don’t feel the need to respond to his ridiculous comments. He’s always cracking jokes, to the point it’s hard to know if he’s a decent guy. Anna and Jackson vouch for him, though, and they all go way back.
The whole collective crew is meeting up at Sam and Olivia’s place before going out. Sam has the evening planned, and I don’t doubt we’re in for an unforgettable night.
“Yeah, I never thought I’d see this guy smile so much. Remember how worried we used to get about him?” Ollie asks, directing his question to Sam.
“Remember? It’s been an ongoing topic with Mom for years. Hell, we broke into his apartment last year,” Sam says.
Maggie’s inside, talking with friends, her hair blown out, shiny and smooth. She’s wearing high, strappy heels and a short dress that shows off her long, lean legs. I watch her lift her glass and swirl her drink while talking, animated.
“Well, he may be happy, but the dude still doesn’t talk much,” Chase says, feet propped up on the fire pit coffee table.
“Hey, I’m sitting right here.” They all chuckle like it’s so funny. I’m fully aware I don’t talk much. If I have something to say, I say it.
Chase brought a woman with him tonight. Since I’ve known him, he’s been more of a “meeting up later for drinks” kind of guy. Since the ladies are in the kitchen, visible but inaudible behind the glass doors, I decide to turn the tables and tease the joker.
“What about you? Any plans in the works with Sydney?” I ask, shifting the conversation away from me.
His mouth gapes open as he points toward the kitchen. “That woman? No way. Absolutely not.”
“What? Why did you bring her?” It’s not like he needed a date. He never has a date. He prefers late-night booty calls.
“She’s new at work. Doesn’t know anyone here. She was hanging out in my office, said she didn’t have any plans tonight. I brought her to be nice. But no, it’s not like that between us. She’s not my type at all. Serious work bitch, like to the nth degree. Every conversation circles back to work. And need I remind you we work at an accounting firm?”
I glance over at Sydney. She’s wearing an attractive pantsuit with serious heels. I do agree they aren’t each other’s type. She’s far more sophisticated than Chase. He’s in a t-shirt under a blazer with jeans. Today’s t-shirt reads Screw your lab safety, I want superpowers.
Maggie’s engaged in a conversation with Sydney, apart from the other women. That’s my Maggie. She’ll make any person feel welcome and at home. All the girls went out today for a New York spa and shopping day, got nails, hair, and makeup done, all courtesy of Olivia and Sam. Maggie isn’t doing professional hair and makeup for our wedding, since we’ll be in Iowa at her parents’ place, so Anna and Olivia wanted to give her a special day here. Since Sydney was the one girl who didn’t partake, I don’t doubt Maggie feels the need to give her extra attention and include her now.
My foot gets kicked off the coffee table, and the movement shocks me.
“Think you can stop looking at her for a bit and join in the conversation?” Ollie asks with his signature shit-eating grin.
“I don’t want to stop. Ever.” I stare him down. I don’t care what these guys think.
“Hey, Sam. Double or nothing. Remember? Hand it over.” Ollie holds his hand out to Sam.
“No, no, no. I’m the one who said they’d be married within two years. You hand it over.”
“No, my original bet, from the one made like ten years ago, was no time cap. And you bet five years, then you said two when you lost that one. I believe you owe me.”
“Shut it. You owe me two Ben Franklins,” Sam says before tossing back his beer.
Ollie laughs but makes no move to pay his brother back.
Chase holds his beer out then points it at Jason.
“Hold on. Ten years, you’ve been friends? That’s twisted. The only woman I’ve been friends with for that long is Anna, and I couldn’t imagine—”
“You didn’t have that kind of friendship with Anna.” Jackson’s voice booms across the room. He had been standing farther out on the terrace on his cell. Guess he finished his call. He seems more exasperated by Chase than offended.
Chase holds up his hands. “Dude. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying, if I’m friends with someone for that long, I can’t imagine it turning into more. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, in our case, it was complicated. I always wanted more. You wait until you meet the one,” I say looking over to her again through the glass.
“Well, not me, lads. Some of us like being single.” Chase raps against his chest. Sam and Ollie smirk in an almost identical way, and Jackson shakes his head. Once again, I find myself wanting to ignore these guys, so I shift to watch Maggie. She tilts her head back, laughing at something someone inside said.
“Damn, bro, you can’t stop looking at her. Was it always this way, and I just didn’t notice?” Ollie asks.
“Yeah, it’s always been this way,” Sam answers, looking at his brother like he’s dense.
“I don’t understand what took you ten years. She’s looked at you with goo-goo eyes since the day we met her. Mom spent years asking me if anything was going on with you two,” Ollie pipes back.
“You know what, I’m not getting into that with you guys. It took me a while, okay? She was my best friend, and I didn’t want to risk losing her. You guys think it’s all easy. It’s not always easy. Plus, we met in college. Do you guys even still talk to the women you dated in college?” My question shuts them up. When you meet your other half in college, it’s not always a smooth path forward, because when you’re young, you’re kind of half-baked. And I had some difficult things I needed to accept. Not that I’m going to go into any of that with these guys.
Ollie takes a long swallow from his beer, the glass hiding the grin I know is plastered on his face, because he loves to tease the shit out of me, and Chase sits up, setting an empty beer on the table. He reaches out and pats my knee.
“Glad it eventually worked out, man. I’m gonna run in and get another beer. Anyone else need one?”
Sam checks his watch. “Help yourself, but we’ll be leaving soon. Probably in less than fifteen minutes.”
Sam’s pronouncement has Ollie and Jackson heading inside, following Chase.
As they step through the automatic sliding door, Maggie slips by them. She falls onto my lap, and I breathe her in. There’s a strong, pungent scent that’s not her at all, and I assume it’s the hairspray. I don’t mind. When I lift her hair and kiss below her ear, she wiggles on my lap, and I groan. What I wouldn’t give for us to be back at our apartment, just the two of us.
“You ready for tonight?” she asks.
“With you by my side, I can handle anything.”
Epilogue: Maggie
“Everything’s set. Will has lit the candles in the hall, and guests are starting to arrive. Are you ready?” Zoe brims with exhilaration. She’s excited for me, the same way I was for her four years ago at her wedding. Her hand falls to my shoulder, and she spins me to face the full-length mirror in our parents’ bedroom.
She and I grew up in this house. Almost all my childhood memories center around this home or this neighborhood. We have photos of Zoe and me, both toddlers, playing in the clean laundry in this room, in front of this mirror.
Zoe rests her chin on my exposed shoulder. “You look beautiful.”
I’m wearing a simple 1930s inspired white gown. The silk chiffon is embroidered and beaded and features kimono-style cap sleeves and an asymmetrical wrap-style bodice. It’s a gown I found on Etsy from MartinMcCreaCouture. After the wedding, I plan to shorten the hemline so I can wear it again in the future. My hair is down, but the sides are pulled back, and daisies have been woven in through the braids in the back.
There’s a soft knock on the door before Mom enters. She gasps and immediately fans her face. “I can
’t cry. I’m gonna ruin my makeup. Oh, my word, you two are so beautiful. How has time passed so quickly? It feels like yesterday I was dumping you both in the bathtub when you played with paints or mud.”
Her voice cracks as Zoe and I hug her. Tears come to my eyes, and I break away because I don’t want my mascara to run. I step to the window looking out over the back yard.
There’s a wedding arch placed at the end of the aisle, wrapped in sheer white fabric, with a green and white flower arrangement looped through the curve of the arch. Rows and rows of the white rental chairs are lined up, with perfectly mowed green grass flooring the aisle. Buckets of sea spray daisies adorn the end of each aisle.
The centerpieces on the tables for the reception mimic the sea spray daisies in glass mason jars, wrapped with tiny golden lights, reminiscent of the fireflies Zoe and I used to catch as kids. Zoe, Yara, and I sat around last night after the rehearsal dinner creating them. The afternoon sun shines brightly. It’s a perfect summer day, even if it is a touch warmer than we’d prefer. As the sun sets and the evening reception begins, it will be perfect.
People are filling the rows. I search for Jason, but I don’t see him. He’s probably inside, waiting for instructions. I still pinch myself, unable to believe we’re actually doing this. That we made it. In some ways, it feels like we’re already an old couple. We know everything about each other. In other ways, it all feels new.
My face warms as I think about all the places we’ve christened in our new apartment. I’m still not pregnant, after two months of unprotected sex. I’m not going to worry about it, though. We’ve agreed that if after another month I’m still not pregnant, I’ll meet with my doctor, but from what I’ve read, she won’t tell me to do anything until it’s been six months. I’m not worried. Whatever happens will happen. Jason and I will face it together. There are no certainties in life. I’m kind of glad we’re walking down the aisle, facing the unknown together. If we were already pregnant, there would be more certainty to our future, and I feel like we need to be brave together. This is significant for us. We have concerns and worries, but they don’t matter. What matters is we will lean on each other to get through whatever comes our way.
The door opens again, and Yara enters. Zoe is my maid of honor, and Yara is my bridesmaid. Sam is Jason’s best man, and Ollie is his groomsman. We could have easily had bigger bridal parties, but I hate asking others to partake in the expense of purchasing the outfits, and I want simple. We have a slew of honorary bridesmaids and groomsmen, all honored in our ceremony programs.
Yara stands in the doorway. “It’s time.”
My bridesmaids are both in similar soft yellow, or buttercream, sundresses. Yara is wearing platform sandals with a punk vibe, and Zoe is wearing white sandals that are one step above flip flops. They’re both so different, and I love how even in similar dresses their personalities shine through.
As I make my way down the stairs, flashes of my childhood fall before me. Sliding down the stairs back when my parents had carpet on them, getting yelled at for attempting to slide down the banister, parading down these stairs in my prom dress. This is why I wanted to get married at my childhood home. I love all my memories.
We journey through the house, and then step out onto the back porch. All heads turn our way, and everyone stands. One of my childhood friends, a neighbor from down the street, strums the chords to Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. It’s not a traditional wedding song, but it’s a song that has spoken to me for as long as I can remember.
Zoe smiles, takes my niece’s hand, and walks down the aisle. Yara falls in behind them.
When it’s my turn, I stand on the grass, my heels sinking slightly into the soft soil. My father stands to my side, tears glimmering. “You ready, sweetie pie?”
“More than ready.”
My arm falls on my father’s, and we step with a practiced rhythm. I smile at friends and family as we pass, but my focus centers on Jason. He’s not crimson, but there’s a noticeable ruddy hue to his complexion. It’s a warm day, and he’s in a tux, so that could be it, but I’d be willing to bet he’s nervous. Those eyes I know so well lock on mine, and everything else fades to black.
Dad bends and kisses my forehead and joins my mother in the front row.
Jason takes my hands in his. My heart vibrates, and the world slips away. It’s just the two of us. Sam’s father, Mr. Duke, is acting as our officiant. He speaks of love, and what it means, and directs us to say our vows.
We both wrote our own vows. Jason lifts my hand to his lips. Tears simmer, on the verge of spilling over, but these are tears of joy.
“Maggie, when I researched wedding vows, I found the traditional ones, the vows promising through sickness and in health, ’til death do us part. I’ve been so afraid, not of death, but of hurting you, and those vows simply don’t say enough. I promise to love you and cherish you, for all the rest of our days. You are the most important person in my life. My best friend. The love of my life. My partner in life. If I could, I would give you not only this life but all my future lives. Since I can’t give what probably doesn’t exist, I give you all my tomorrows, and I promise to do my best to stay rooted in the present. No matter what we might face, I am yours, today, tomorrow, always.”
Tears stream down my face, and I pause to swipe at them. He leans to kiss me, and Mr. Duke intervenes with a deep, “Not yet, son.” Laughter echoes through our family and friends.
“Jason, you have been my best friend, confidante, and my greatest challenge.” I pause as more laughter rings through, even from Jason.
“You make me happier than I ever thought possible. My most favorite memories are with you, and I am so grateful to spend the rest of my life creating more cherished moments. Let us build a home of laughter, love, and support. Let us create a warm and loving space for the good times and the bad. Let us be a home for each other, forever and ever.” I pause, searching for his words. “Jason, no matter what we might face together, I am yours, today, tomorrow, always.”
Mr. Duke steps forward and asks Jason to repeat after him. We both get our turn to say, “I do,” and when he drawls out, “Noooowwww, you can kiss the bride,” everyone laughs.
Later on, when it’s time for our first dance, Jason leads me onto the dance floor we created. We strung Christmas lights all through the trees, and the twinkling lights create a natural shimmering canopy. The Luckiest from Ben Folds begins. He chose it, and it’s perfect for us. We got lost along the way, or maybe sidetracked. I suppose our path to where we are now has been longer than most, but without a doubt, we are the luckiest.
Notes & Acknowledgements
A long, long time ago, I read P.S. I Love You by Barbara Conklin. I cried and cried and cried. I think I might have been fifteen, and the story ripped me apart. Little footnote, I haven’t read it since then, so who knows if it would hit me the same way now, or if my memory of it is even correct. I found it used for $42 and decided that was too much to spend.
Anyway…in the book, her first love dies. I can’t remember if they are in high school or college. But I feel like he might have been from California. For years and years, I’ve wondered what happened to her. Did she fall in love again?
That’s kind of the genesis for this book. When I was coming up with Sam’s story, for some reason, I decided he needed a friend who was down and struggling. A friendship that showed his true colors. Then I had to decide why his friend seemed so down, and there you have it. He became the friend of Maggie’s first love.
As I did the research for this book, I found some real tear-jerker memoirs, as you can imagine. The one I had to take breaks from in order to finish reading it is Somebody Up There Hates Me by Hollis Seamon. The fictional book is based on her observations of teenagers in a hospice ward when her son was a patient. I highly recommend this book. It’s a tear-jerker, but it’s also so insightful into how we all cope with death.
Everything Happens for a Reason by Kate Bow
ler is another book I came across that, well, bowled me over. Bowler currently battles cancer (and from what I hear, from a friend of a friend, she’s doing well), but her perspective and her experience with the prosperity gospel is not only insightful, you’ll find yourself laughing.
I also read many blogs and found one common thread. At a certain point, many people who blogged about their struggles with cancer reached a point they didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Every now and then, I found some who did mention some of the long-term struggles they individually faced. Not every person who has cancer will continue to struggle with it, but some will.
It’s one thing to fear cancer, earthquakes, war, and asteroids from a theoretical perspective. It’s another to come face to face with any of these things and then move forward. There’s no way every person’s individual experience will be the same as all others. But this is how I envisioned one person might experience it.
When writing this book, my beta readers helped me tremendously. I owe a debt of gratitude to Robbie Carnaggio, Jenny Pezzano, Keri James, Anna, and Ashley Hasty of Hasty’s Booklist for taking so much time and care to read through and provide valuable feedback.
To achieve my goal of providing a quality Indie novel, I work with several editors, and I’d like to thank each of them. Development editor AmyClaire Major, Editor Lori Whitwam, and Line Editor Heather Whitehead of Capstone.
A rollercoaster ride aptly details the cover design process for Lost on the Way. Adlina Hamid-Yeow deserves a gold medal for cranking out so many renditions. My friend Sarah Mullen helped me to navigate the stock photo world, and then my husband found the ultimate image and I owe a huge thanks to IndiaEarl Photography for providing the rights to the gorgeous image we ultimately used. And, a huge thanks to Sarah at OkayCreations for stepping in in the eleventh hour when AMS ads became prudish.
