by Katie George
Chapter Thirteen
I WALKED DOWN the rose-littered aisle without tripping, which was a miracle in itself, and then I took my place near the minister and the other bridesmaids. As the groomsmen adjusted, I remembered friendly Luke Cho, which even muddled my thoughts more. Luke, I thought, had forgotten all about me, which was okay.
The bouquet I held was like a heavenly realm of its own. Embalmed were lavender orchid, anthurium again (which, Annabel’s wedding planner aunt had explained earlier was also called flamingo flower) and bougainvillea. The lavender orchid matched the dress I donned. The combination of odors was riveting like a psychedelic drug. The minister, a small Asian man who was extremely good-looking, stood with a Bible in his hand at the foot of a cross. We were in a chapel literally by the sea on Kauai’s north shore, with the giant peaks of the Nā Pali coastline behind us. Green etched up like inverted icicles. Combined with the flowers, the scenery effectively placed me in another realm.
Dexter stood at the foot of the minister, his hands at his sides, waiting for his bride. The ceremony was ornate, with the stained glass giving an extra rainbow effect to the already gorgeous décor. The audience, composed of family and friends, waited in silent awe, which I hadn’t seen before. Most people think of enchanting Hawaiian beach weddings; this was something different altogether.
The sound of steady violins played by two Hawaiian women was strumming like a beautiful melody that added to the ethereal experience. Then Annabel was striding down the aisle in a gorgeous sheath-styled cream gown that sparkled like diamonds. The stained glass cast a spectrum on the shimmer from her dress, which made my eyes tear up. She looked like a goddess with her tan skin, light blue eyes, and long blonde hair cascading down her back. She held a simple bouquet like our own, and then it was time to let go of her father’s arm to take Dexter’s hand.
The ceremony went quickly, much quicker than Chelsea’s nuptials. I think it was because I spotted a whale in the distance. As soon as Annabel and Dexter finished their vows, the audience blew into a rapturous applause, and they ran out holding each other’s hands. It was one of the sweetest things, watching Dexter and Annabel rush out into the natural world.
The immediate family walked behind them rather quickly, while Sena and I took our time on the way out, enjoying every last piece the chapel had to offer. We were whisked away to the nearby banquet hall, where we would dine and dance until the scheduled firework display around seven o’clock.
The sun was setting in its glory again, a full twenty-four hours after my heart-to-heart with Tyron. He was supposedly kayaking the cave systems today with the buddy who’d flown in. I’d told Sena the basics, ignoring Tyron’s plea for my “budding” (and not-going-to-happen) romance with Jamie.
There was a round of photographs, where the bride and groom posed for shots with the golden sands and the green Hawaiian Alps. Instead of the photographer (who happened to be Dexter’s pregnant sister) only taking snaps of the bride and groom (plus immediate party), all were invited to gather for pictures. After we were done, Sena and I took off to a shaded spot under banyan trees to admire the mountaintops.
“Wow,” Sena whispered. “This wedding is going to be hard to top off.”
“You’re getting married in mountains, too. We’ll be all there for you, strewn in a valley, watching the sun disappear past the cracks of desert summits.”
“Phoenix doesn’t compare to Kauai, Em.”
“You know what matters, Sena? You’re getting married. The love that you and Steve share is the only thing I care about.”
SENA AND I sat huddled underneath a blanket as we watched the fireworks show, which was as impressive (or more) than a July 4th celebration, due to the close proximity to the mountains and the feature of the open Pacific Ocean. Once the fireworks were done, we stood on our wobbly legs, colors reflecting on the ocean from the display. After a whole two hours of dancing, we threw glitter on the happy couple, who hopped into a limousine to head back to the airport. Whereas we common folk would return to the States the next day, Annabel and Dexter were flying to Tahiti for an extended two-week long honeymoon. (Another paradise vacation? Give me a break.)
Moments after they were gone, we returned, melancholy and dog-tired, to our vans on the way back to the resort. “This is life in a vivid dream,” Sena whispered to me. “We’ll be heading to LA in the morning. Are you ready to go back?”
I nodded, but did not give my answer until a few minutes later, once we were taking the highway back to our resort along the coast. “I’ll miss what we did here, but I miss what I have in LA. What I can tell you is that I don’t miss the traffic, I don’t necessarily miss the daily grind, but I miss my friends, my job, even my questionable cat.”
Sena nuzzled into my shoulder, her hair smelling like apples, or something fruity. As soon as we made it back to the hotel, I fell asleep, dreaming of mangoes, Jamie, and a huge stack of paperwork pertaining to unmanageable actors.
