by Glynis Astie
She had found my dress. SIMONE had found my dress! It had somehow ended up in a completely different bag than the one I had packed it in before I gave it to my parents, but I wasn’t going to dwell on details.
I breathed a sigh of relief and sank to the floor in complete exhaustion. I glanced from Simone to Zoe with an absurdly large grin as tears of joy spilled from my eyes.
Just then Louis burst into the room. He took in the whole scene with a bewildered air.
Zoe approached him carefully. “Your mom found the dress.”
Louis slapped his hand to his head and laughed. “Of course she did.”
Right behind Louis was one of the hotel managers. His name was Bernard and he had a particularly superior manner. I had instantly hated him when he met with us yesterday to discuss a few last minute wedding items.
Bernard sighed expressively. “You see, I told you there was nothing to worry about, Mr. Durand. It turns out the dress had been placed in a storage closet overnight. We’re sorry for the…inconvenience, but as you can see, we had it cleaned and it looks as good as new.”
Louis instinctively came up behind me, ostensibly to hold his blushing bride in his arms. I knew better. Louis was there to make sure I didn’t rip Bernard’s arms off. Since my physical options were off the table now, I had no choice but to inform Bernard, the smug bastard, I would make it my life’s work to ensure he was UNBELIEVABLY sorry. The jackass had the audacity to roll his eyes at me, smirk at Louis and saunter out of the room.
Once Bernard had escaped to another part of the hotel, Louis released me from his hold. I turned towards him to find him speaking rapidly with his mother. After a few minutes, I became impatient.
I tapped Louis on the shoulder. “How did she find it?”
He grinned at me. “She banged down every door in this hotel until she located it.”
I was speechless. I had spent the last few hours hating his mother with every fiber of my being. Suddenly I found myself experiencing a very different emotion. I was… grateful. It felt pretty strange to go through such a drastic change in the span of five minutes. But, that was one of the delights of having Simone Durand in your life. You never knew what kind of emotions she would incite.
I approached her tentatively. “Merci beaucoup, Simone.”
She smiled at me as the tears continued to run down my face. Zoe and Louis watched while she pulled me to her arms and stroked my hair. “Ma cherie, ça va. Calme-toi.”
I giggled when I discerned she was telling me to calm down. The irony of her statement was priceless considering her role in this morning’s wild goose chase. I had to give her the fact that she had ultimately righted the wrong, no matter who the true culprit was. Simone may have been the reason why the gown could not stay under my watchful eye, but my parents were foolish enough to hand it over to the hotel staff, who were then inept enough to misplace it.
While Simone continued to fuss over me, Louis called our families to let them know the dress had been found. Everyone rejoiced that today wouldn’t be the day I was committed to an insane asylum. (Although, there’s a really nice place right down the street.) Instead, today would be the day Sydney Durand would marry the man of her dreams. For the third time. Are you ready? Because I sure am.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The moment we’ve all been waiting for has arrived. The wedding ceremony is about to begin. The guests have all arrived, the flowers are in place, everyone is dressed in their wedding finery and best of all, the bride is wearing her gorgeous wedding gown. But before I would be able to walk down the aisle, the wedding gods had one final joke for me to withstand.
As I was preparing to leave my suite on the fourth floor of the hotel and take the elevator down to the terrace where Louis and I were getting married, the power went out. The hotel staff brought numerous glow sticks (Because who needs flashlights?) to light the SERVICE stairwell as Kate, Maya and Zoe helped me and my big, beautiful and rather poofy, dress down the stairs. I almost tripped what seemed like a thousand times, but I made it through unscathed! I have never been so happy to see sunlight.
Fortunately, the power returned so music was playing when Louis and his parents entered the ceremony. Unfortunately, the power went out AGAIN as I came to the top of the stairs with my mother. I was only able to bite back the long list of curse words which ran through my mind because I had just let out a massive string of profanity down the glow stick-lit service stairwell. That was enough for a lifetime. Or, at the very least, enough for one day.
My father looked up at me from the bottom of the stairs, probably hoping I would crack, utter something insanely inappropriate and he would get a good laugh. He was out of luck in this instance. I was going to hold it together if it KILLED me.
A few minutes later, the opening bars of Canon in D drifted over the terrace and my mother and I started slowly down the stairs. As we made our descent, I said a silent prayer that the power would stay on long enough for me to make it to Louis. I didn’t think I would be able to stifle foul language through another disaster and I had absolutely no desire to express such vulgarity in front of our guests. Once we reached the bottom of the staircase, my father offered me his arm and the three of us began our journey up the aisle. I let out a sigh of pure happiness. Finally.
With each step I took, I became more aware of the beauty before me. The terrace afforded a breathtaking view of the sun-dappled water surrounded by the stunning coastline. Gorgeous orchids and tulips were artfully arranged with yards of tulle and silk around the circumference of the terrace as well as up the aisle, culminating in an exquisite wedding arch. It was magnificent.
A nudge from my father reminded me I had to keep moving. I smiled as I took in the faces of the most important people in my life, but my heart stopped when my eyes settled on Louis. I was prepared for my husband’s gorgeous appearance, but I wasn’t prepared for the look of awe on his face when he saw me. This wasn’t our first trip down the aisle, after all. Here I was again, coming towards him in a beautiful white dress.
But somehow, it was different this time. We had made it through some harrowing times together in our eight months of marriage. We had skipped over the honeymoon period and fallen right into the hard times. It hadn’t been pretty, but we had fought through valiantly and had proved to ourselves (and to our naysayers) we had what it took to make our marriage work. And we did all this while still getting to know each other. THAT is quite an amazing feat.
With this last trip down the aisle, Louis and I were solidifying the pact we had made to each other over and over again. We would be together through the good and the bad, the happy and sad…how embarrassing! I’m about to start singing an Al Green song. Let me spare you that horror and make my point in a different manner. As I walked down the aisle towards Louis, we exchanged a look of triumph. We had done it! And anyone who didn’t believe we could, could just suck it. That’s right! I said, “Suck it!” Coming out on top after eight months of hell gives a lady the right to say such a thing. Deal with it.
Now, let’s return to the ceremony already in progress. As you may remember, my incredible boss (and friend), Vivian, had agreed to “officiate” our ceremony. Since Louis and I were already married, she suggested using the time to share the details of our rather unusual story with our guests. Vivian crafted a brilliant tale of our courtship, which she had witnessed firsthand and regaled our audience with vivid accounts of the early days, adding in her extensive inside information for fun. At the conclusion of the ceremony, she gave us the book in which she recorded our story, a memento which I will cherish for the rest of my life.
Louis and I then raced back down the aisle in an attempt to run away from the plethora of bird seed being pelted at us. (It was important to me to be kind to the seagulls, but bird seed was surprisingly sharp when thrown with such force.) While shielding my eyes with my bouquet, I took a quick glance behind us to ensure the world’s cutest flower girl was close behind (and safe from the hailstorm of bird
seed). Though she hadn’t been able to walk down the aisle, she very nearly upstaged the bride from the safety of her mother’s arms as she clutched her basket of rose petals. She was truly a vision in pink satin and tulle.
After a quick champagne toast with our families at the top of the stairs, Louis and I returned to the terrace to take a myriad of wedding photos. We smiled in various groups and formations, while our guests enjoyed cocktail hour. (We would have been done much faster if our photographer hadn’t had to take extra photos to compensate for my annoying tendency to blink in response to any sort of flash.) If it weren’t for Pip, who snuck me all of his favorite foods, I would have entered our wedding reception with nothing but champagne in my stomach. I think we can all imagine what a disaster that would have been! And I have come way too far to ruin my dream wedding for something as stupid as not being able to eat.
How do I begin to describe our reception? It was …magical. Let me set the scene for you. Come on, take a deep breath and picture it with me. We had selected a ballroom with an entire wall of windows overlooking the water. The dozen circular tables were covered with white linen tablecloths, vases of orchids and tea light candles. The dim lighting coupled with the white twinkly lights throughout the room gave the space a soft, glimmering quality. And the view of the sun setting was a spectacular beginning to our long awaited party.
Shortly after we were introduced as man and wife, for the THIRD and final time, Louis and I made rounds to the tables of guests. Once Kate and Zoe figured out how to bustle my dress, I was able to move fairly freely. I even regained the ability to walk unassisted!
With each table we went to, I was able to sneak more food. I hit up my friends, relatives and even relative strangers - a few of Louis’ new coworkers. (What better way to get to know someone than to share food?) After covering half of the tables in the room, I convinced Louis to return to our table for a quick dinner. About halfway through my meal, I realized I would have to stop if I had any hope of eating wedding cake. And really, what would you rather eat?
The hotel had made a chocolate wedding cake with dark chocolate filling infused with Kahlua. I had very generously conceded to have only one layer of this delectable combination so Louis could have two layers of his Grand Marnier soaked sponge cake with raspberry filling. For those of you who know me well, this was a VERY big deal. Cake is one of my favorite things in the world. In light of this fact, I had already paid one of the waiters to send three pieces of the chocolate cake to our suite, since Louis and I would be feeding each other his cake for the photos. (This was a very calculated decision on my part: if he was dumb enough to smear it on my face, the golden cake would be far less obvious on film.)
Once dinner had been cleared, Louis and I had our first dance. We reprised the song from our first wedding, since the meaning was just as poignant now as it had been then. As we danced to Etta James singing “At Last”, I thought about how at our first wedding, I had been overwhelmed with joy that I had found a man who seemed to love me as much as I loved him. Before Louis, I had been convinced I would be alone forever (perhaps a bit dramatic, but true nonetheless). But this time, I knew without a doubt, we were meant to be together for the rest of our lives.
Many couples had trouble making it through the first year of marriage with little in the way roadblocks, yet Louis and I had bulldozed our way through years’ worth of problems in eight short months. We were scarred without a doubt, but we had survived and we were ready to fight another day. The impact of this accomplishment hit me as he looked deeply into my eyes. I gazed into his achingly beautiful blue eyes and felt completely content. At last.
Once our dance concluded, Louis kissed my hand tenderly and graciously gave me over to my father. My father smiled at me and then grimaced as Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” started to play. I thought it was a beautiful song choice, but my father doesn’t understand anything outside of classical music. Or possibly opera. (At least during his sober moments…)
“Duck! Why do you have to play such noise during our dance?”
I was about to answer when he spontaneously dipped me. My dad is surprisingly spry for a man who is built like Santa Claus.
I grinned. “You know you love it, old man.”
He winked at me and twirled me around the floor. “So, is the third time the charm, Duck?”
I laughed. “I think so, Dad. I think we can finally relax.”
My dad chuckled. “Unless you’re dumb enough to get pregnant.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Bite your tongue! That’s not even remotely funny.” Seriously, my heart started hammering in my chest at the mere thought of being pregnant right now.
My dad continued to laugh. “You’re so impressionable, Duck. You really need to learn to relax.”
For the second time that evening, I bit back a very long stream of profanity. In this case though, I wasn’t worried about decorum. I simply didn’t want to give my father the satisfaction of knowing he had pushed me to utter his favorite catchphrase.
When our dance was over, I kissed my father on the cheek and chose a good vantage point to watch Louis’ dance with his mother. As they began to sway to “What a Wonderful World”, I thought about the adventure my life had become upon the arrival of Simone Durand. She looks innocent enough, but that’s simply her genius disguise. She is crafty, tenacious and extremely passionate. She’s someone you definitely want to have on your side, not go up against in battle. I chuckled to myself, knowing even though I had learned to love and appreciate her, I would be battling her in one manner or another for a very long time.
Following these heartfelt dances with our parents, Louis and I headed over to the cake. As we were handed the ceremonial knife, I pleaded with him not to smear cake and/or frosting all over my face. A second later, Maya seemed to melt out of the shadows to give Louis a meaningful look. My interpretation of that look is this: “Ruin the masterpiece I’ve created on your wife’s face and I will hurt you. Beyond recognition.” That last part came from her newfound status as bride to be. I didn’t think it was possible for her to become any bitchier, but clearly I was mistaken.
Whether it was due to Maya’s influence or his good heart, Louis didn’t smear my face with frosting. After he carefully fed me a bite of cake, he leaned in and whispered he would have frosting sent to our room for later in the evening so he could smear it anywhere he desired. I blushed a very deep shade of red and felt a pleasant tingling sensation from my head to my toes. With all the stress from the last few weeks, our time in the bedroom had been limited. Thank God tonight would be different.
Once I had returned my thoughts to a more chaste nature, it was time to face something I had been dreading for a good portion of the evening. I had purposely bucked wedding reception tradition and scheduled the toasts for the absolute end of the evening, banking on the fact that many people would be too tipsy to remember the contents of the toasts. Please! You know my father is going to embarrass me! The less of the content people can remember, the better. Even if it would be recorded for posterity. I could at least control who would be able to get their hands on a copy of such a recording.
As I was about to hand my father the microphone, along with a very strict warning not to say anything inappropriate, which he would quickly disregard, we accidentally discovered our family was going to expand once more. (No, I didn’t take a pregnancy test in the hotel bathroom.) When offered champagne, Zoe inadvertently told us she couldn’t drink because of the baby. We all starting screaming and jumping around like lunatics while Zoe blushed profusely. Unfortunately, the microphone had already been turned on for my dad’s toast and the ENTIRE room heard the news. After accepting the profuse amount of congratulations, the shocked couple scurried off for a moment alone. Zoe was only five weeks pregnant, but clearly needed to inform her parents quickly due to the slip.
My father cleared his throat and waited for the room to quiet down. He smiled at our guests and took my hand, while Louis held my o
ther hand.
“Lyn and I are honored to have many members of the Durand family with us this evening. We thank you for making the trip.” He paused. “We’re also thrilled to have so many dear friends of ours and of our darling Duck’s here with us. I’m sure you were all as surprised as we were when you found out that our cautious daughter decided to marry a Frenchman after knowing him for a month!”
Raucous laughter broke out. Way to exaggerate, Dad. OK, so it was only a slight exaggeration, since I had known Louis for SIX weeks when we got engaged, but it was still an exaggeration! I took great satisfaction in rolling my eyes at him.
“I’m sure you were also as surprised as we were when it was clear that these two not only loved each other, but they would never give up on each other. They went through a shit-storm in their first few months of marriage and it would’ve been easier to just walk away.” He regarded each of us warmly. “But these two held on, worked through all of it and came out even stronger than before. And they did it with grace, humility and a little bit of alcohol.” The room erupted into laughter once more.
My dad banged a knife on the side of his glass to regain the attention of the room. “And I’d just like to say on behalf of my family, we’ve never been more grateful that Sydney chose this moment to throw caution to the wind. Not only did she find her perfect match in every way, but she gave her family an incredible new addition.” He turned to me. “Thank you, Duck.”
Well done, old man. My dad was such a master at setting up a smoke screen of sarcasm and sneaking in a heartfelt moment. He really was a softie at heart.
My dad held his champagne glass in the air. “Congratulations to Duck and Louis!”
The room broke out into applause. I threw my arms around my father and squeezed him tight. “I’m so lucky to have you, Daddy.”
