by Tara Wimble
“Ready?” Her brother asks.
The only small sadness that this day brings, despite the whole thing being orchestrated, is when Jake steps up and offers his arm to her. Slipping her hand over her brother’s arm she ignores the hot clenching feeling in her chest at how her brother is the one who’ll be giving her away today and not her dad.
It’d been a long discussion, one that Bella had actually participated in and hadn’t deferred to Jacque’s discretion, over who would actually get to walk down the aisle in the most traditional sense of the word. Because in all of the conceptions of her wedding it’d been her, obviously, doing the walk but she could understand if Jacque had the same dream.
Finally, after what seemed like the longest discussion they’d ever had, it was decided that they would both do it. Jacque first in a more traditional grooms role and Bella, finally, who won sole custody of the Wedding March.
She can hear the processional switch to the orchestral song that Jacque had chosen to walk out to from her place off to the side, another decision so that they didn’t accidentally jinx the thing, real marriage or not, and see each other before they were supposed to.
Next is the processional of bridesmaids and Bella can’t even fathom how quickly that goes, she swears that she told them not to race down the aisle but the first strains of the Wedding March start on the church organ and Jake leads her into view for the first time.
It’s incredibly flattering, something she can reach back to for an ego boost on dark days, how everyone seems to simultaneously draw in a breath when they see her.
Jacque is playing the part of the waiting bride, it’s almost impressive how seamlessly she’s able to pull it off.
Her back straightens almost immediately when she first lays eyes on Bella and she smiles so brightly that Bella can’t help but duck her head and smile shyly back.
The walk takes forever, it’s supposed to so everyone can ‘ooh’ and ‘aww’, but if the bridesmaids sped down the aisle then Bella must be crawling at a snail’s pace.
The end of the aisle finally comes and her brother gives her away officially to Jacque and from behind her she hears her mom start to cry.
Jacque’s hands are shaking ever so slightly and Bella tighten hers around them in a show of solidarity and reassurance. She takes a moment to scan Jacque in her dress because it’s the first time she’s seeing her actually inside of it, not just hanging in their closet, and Bella can’t imagine her picking anything else.
There’s a timeless aura to it. It pinches around Jacque’s waist in a way that Bella isn’t used to seeing after months of sweatpants and long shirts. The bust is embedded with tiny lace details almost invisible in the light. The kind that Bella wants to touch even though she’s studied the dresses since the day they were delivered. Jacque spots her glances and wears amusement like a veil.
The pastor gives them a minute while the music dies out and Bella tries to say something, without the nerves stopping her, but only comes out with a weak, shuddering sigh. Jacque smiles down at their joined hands, trying not to laugh too loud. “You too.”
Bella feels the nerves as a constant as the pastor starts the ceremony. There’s an oddness to them as she wonders whether or not if this were real, if she was standing here in love with Jacque and about to marry her for all the right reasons, if these nerves would differ. Would they feel more powerful? More overwhelming?
There’s no time to dwell on anything like that because the pastor is giving an invocation and the ceremony starts to gain momentum. It’s a fairly traditional program and by the time they’re lighting the unity candle and signing the marriage license Bella’s ready to get this all over with and get on to the fun part, the reception.
With the official legal part out of the way it’s finally it’s time to exchange rings.
She’s the only one close enough to see the small furrow of a frown that Jacque is trying to keep from painting her face as she takes the ring meant for Bella to wear. They’d had this fight before. Not with each other but with Jacque’s mother.
The ring was a family heirloom once belonging to her grandmother. A beautiful bella band with a small line of classic cut diamonds presented on one side.
The moment that it had been suggested that Bella should take it for her wedding ring, they’d been stuck attempting to lessen their guilt over the fact that this wasn’t real by convincing Jacque’s mother that they couldn’t possibly accept such a gift.
Jacque had managed to push it until they’d bordered on offending her mom and then Bella had prayed that this didn’t make her a terrible person when she graciously agreed.
There was no family ring for Jacque to wear and the ring that Bella slides onto Jacque’s finger is a white gold band that Jacque had picked out. Bella runs her thumb over the front of it where the square black onyx indents lie, thus holding onto Jacque’s hand a second longer, after pushing it over her knuckle.
She kind of wishes that they’d both had the same, be it a ring imbued with memories or plain bands of their own choosing.
But it’s too late to dwell on that now and, looking down at their entwined hands, at least the rings look good on them.
The pastor started in on his final speech about the sanctity of marriage and love and the promise of the future and it was everything that Bella could do to keep from feeling like a fraud at his sincerity.
For all the laughing and the preparing for actually getting up in front of their families and friends like this, there was only one thing that Bella insisted on winging.
“If this whole thing falls through because you’re a crappy kisser-” Jacque had warned her late one night after they’d finished fighting over who was going to wear the dress. “-then it’s on your head.”
They’d gone through the motions at the rehearsal dinner with a joke from Bella that they had to save the magic for the real thing. It had seemed like an innocent comment until Bella’s brother spat water down his shirt after it.
Everyone laughed at the implication but now, as the pastor headed towards the end of his speech, the one that Bella knew led to the infamous words ‘you may now kiss the bride’, she started to freeze up.
What if it was awful and awkward and everybody could tell this was all a front? Maybe Jacque was right, they probably should have practiced but the idea had seemed so ludicrous at the time.
She looks into Jacque’s eyes and sees her nerves reflected back on her. To everyone watching the ceremony it looks like excitement, like two people in love who can’t wait for it to be official, to seal it with a kiss and start the rest of their lives. But Bella can look past the mask to see Jacque has the same fears she does.
And honestly, what if Jacque is a bad kisser? What if she’s a bad kisser like all sloppy tongue, and clacking teeth, and she just has to stand there and enjoy it.
Oh God, what if?
There isn’t any time to dwell on the increasing panic building around those thoughts because he’s definitely just said the thing. Shit.
For what seems like the millionth time, Bella is thankful that Jacque is the older one. The pastor opens his arms in a welcoming gesture for them to take the stage for the rest of their lives and Jacque switches on immediately. Almost as if she expected Bella to freeze up. Which she probably did.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see her mom dabbing at her eyes as Jacque reaches for Bella’s jaw. She slides a hand along her cheek with an unpracticed ease and the bubbling panic subsides. She blocks out the view around her.
“Watch the hair.” Bella jokes low enough for only Jacque and the pastor to overhear. He chuckles to himself and they’ve won him over.
Jacque’s nose bumps against hers first but it doesn’t elicit the awkwardness she imagined it would turn into. “Wait until the honeymoon.”
Her first instinct is to laugh and it turns into perfect timing. She smiles.
There’s a collective cheer that echoes around them. Jacque cups her face and Bella, in the d
arkness of her closed eyes and relaxed shoulders, falls into the kiss to find that she was definitely wrong about everything.
It lasts as long as Jacque dictates it and ends when Bella steadies herself with hands on Jacque’s side.
The clapping and whistling from the pews is loud enough to disguise the relief on Bella’s face. “We did it.”
Jacque glances out at their friends and family with a stunned smile that sits with a surprise on her face. “Yeah.”
Bella playfully tilts her head back to face her. “What? Didn’t think my kissing would be up to scratch?”
It’s a question that lingers a moment too long for Bella’s taste. Jacque shakes off whatever she was thinking and pulls her smile upwards again. “Please. I had every faith in my abilities.”
She offers her arm to Bella and the ceremony comes full circle. In the eyes of God and of the wonderful city of Toronto, she’s officially Jacque’s wife.
The Pastor follows their descent down the small stairs to the walkway with the ringing announcement to their joined families. “Mrs and Mrs Liresch!”
The road is longer from here.
*
The wedding party is all sat at one long table facing everybody else in the room. She and Bella are obviously the focal points but their respective bridesmaids branch off to either side. Somehow Allison beat out all of her sisters for the role of right-hand woman and has made it her job to tease Jacque playfully at the endless stream of sentiment being thrown her way.
There’s delicious food on their plates, alcohol in their cups, and live entertainment. Well, it’s not live entertainment in the traditional sense but Bella’s twin sister is giving one of the funniest speeches Jacque’s ever heard and it’s good to know that humor runs in the family.
In between laughing and nearly choking on her wine Jacque looks back on her wedding day. And, minus the fact that her new wife is straight, it’s pretty much the wedding she dreamed she would have.
There are tiny white markers on the tables with Bella and Jacque’s name emblazoned in gold on them, thanking their guests for coming, while beautiful arrangements of white roses rested in the middle of each party. The staff are attentive and eager to assist their guests, no doubt because of the price of the champagne they’re pushing out, but there isn’t a frown on anyone’s face.
And that kiss. That was the part that still stuck in her mind because she was nervous, so damn nervous, and Bella refused to practice and all she could imagine was the inevitable crash and burn. The confusing reveal of their lack of romantic chemistry for everyone to witness.
Jacque tips the rest of her drink down. But then-
But then the exact opposite happened.
Bella froze but Jacque had come prepared for that possibility and the probability that she’d have to take control.
The banter broke the ice but the kiss melted it all away. If Jacque had to dictate before the wedding what she thought kissing Bella would be like she probably couldn’t have, having sequestered those thoughts, by necessity, so far into the back of her mind.
She certainly wouldn’t have said it’d be warm. Soft. Like that feeling you get snuggled underneath a good comforter on a cold day.
No, that wasn’t at all expected.
The speech ends and it thrusts Jacque back into reality, she raises her suddenly refilled glass in a toast with everyone else and smiles gamely for their guests.
It’s the last time she’s able to sit down for a while. Bella’s family seems to have gotten past the initial bumps in their first meeting, smoothed over by the charming church ceremony and the openness in which Jacque has extended them to meet her family, and come in small droves to introduce themselves.
Bella’s brother engages her with such a proud glow that it brightens even the tentativeness of Bella’s twin sister. There’s still work to be done there but this is technically her day so she knows that there’s no chance of anyone causing any ripples.
She’s not the only one lost in a sea of friends and family. Bella is stolen away by various members of Jacque’s family, who seem to coo over her dress and the ring, if the blush Bella wears is any indication.
For a moment Jacque contemplates heading over there, just to give Bella a little break from being the center of attention.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a very long time.”
Jacque turns and Allison appears. She looks amazing in a black and white dress considering the effort it took for her to get here from Frankfurt. “I think this is what they call the honeymoon period.”
Allison scrunches her nose. “No, I think that happens after the actual honeymoon. Which you will tell me all the details of when you get back. Sparing nothing.”
Jacque splutters through a nervous laugh. “Well, some details will definitely not be shared with you Ms. Müller.”
“Oh how times have changed since college.” Allison teases.
Jacque rolls her eyes. “How’s your other half?”
“Wonderful.” Allison states. “Didn’t want me to leave.”
“They never do.” Jacque agrees. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Their time to catch up is cut short when chants start to resonate throughout the room and the rowdy hungry masses are indication that it’s cake time.
Bella catches her eye from the cross the room and tilts her head like ‘how about it?’, Jacque nods in agreement and they head over to where everyone has crowded around, cameras at the ready, to capture the moment.
“After you Mrs Liresch-” Jacque jokes and Bella laughs as they’re handed the knife to cut the cake. They’re not even aware of the amount of people taking pictures of them as the knife slides through the layers, just on making sure they actually get through it.
Jacque refuses to fall into the trap of Bella smushing the cake into her face, though there’s a valiant effort on Bella’s part. Laughter rings like their wedding bells. Allison stands to one side with her phone out and a request for them to say ‘cheese’.
Bella catches on. “Come on, one for the best friend.”
There’s no cake for her to ruin the moment, or family members to place in between them, just Jacque pulling off her best awkward prom pose for Allison’s amusement and feeling Bella relax completely against her as everything goes off without a hitch.
*
The DJ calls them to the dance floor and introduces them officially as Mrs. and Mrs. Bella and Jacquelina Liresch, which still doesn’t sound like a real thing in Bella’s mind, and then invites everyone to witness their first dance as a married couple.
Charles Bradley’s, ‘Strictly Reserved For You’, pumps through the speakers and Bella can’t help but smile at the song Jacque picked as ‘their song’. It’s such a sentimental love song but she’s fairly sure that most of the decision was based on the fact that Jacque can’t actually dance to anything with a faster beat.
“I can’t breathe in this dress.” Bella shakes out her hands before she places them in the right places for Jacque to be the one guiding them. Her palm is sweaty and it makes Jacque feel better about having all eyes on them again.
“Your mom’s crying.” Jacque points out, still leading, with a smile. “No pain, no gain. And also, shut up. You’re gorgeous.”
“Oh stop it.” Bella mumbles. “You have to say that.”
Jacque smiles and turns her as they sway. “I really don’t. Who would hear me? I could be reciting the phone book for all they know.”
Bella tries to hide her smile.
“If you’re implying I have to call you pretty because you’re my wife,” Jacque adds. “You’re mistaken.”
“Please.” Bella laughs and her family looks on. “We can all agree that I’m the prettiest.”
Jacque’s hand on her back is firm. “We’ll be the judge of that tomorrow morning.” She dips Bella spontaneously and she can tell that Bella’s surprised, the crowd eats it up though and Jacque has to smirk.
“You asshole.” But
she’s laughing along with the rest of them.
Jacque pulls her close and other couples start to join them on the floor at the DJ’s behest. It’s when they’re suddenly surrounded by people, couples, that Bella kind of sobers and realizes that they fit in here. Or that they’re supposed to.
She gets called a wife again right before Jacque spins her and even though this is her wedding the word still feels foreign. Like it doesn’t fully belong to her. The white dress she wears is a lace mask that doesn’t fit her form. It grows heavier the longer they dance and as it does, she relies on Jacque to lead them even more.
*
The night’s winding down, their guests have been slowly trickling back to their hotel rooms, some a little bit more drunk than others. There’s a light tap on her shoulder and she turns to see Rebecca Faustus standing right there, cautious smile on her face.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” And as hard as she tries not to because this is supposed to be a happy day she’s transported back to her MagicJack days and Jameson and how somehow she was the only one left in the dust when nobody had her back.
But Rebecca did make the invitation list because even if she never did explicitly stand up for her they’d been friends and she never shunned her either. Jacque had suggested an olive branch and this was really the only place she could manage extending it.
“This is definitely not the time for this,” Rebecca pauses to shrug like ‘what are you gonna do?’ and continues on, “but I just wanted to apologize to you.”
Bella stops because she never thought that she’d hear anyone from those days say anything like this and it’s almost the best wedding present she could have received. It won’t replace what she’s lost, obviously, there’s a reason she’s standing here in this dress right now. But it’s a start towards healing those latent mental scars.
“I appreciate that, really, it means a lot to hear you say that.”
Rebecca looks straight into Bella’s eyes. “I should have said a long time ago, hell, I should have had your back. You were right, we all knew it, but you had the guts to say it.”
