by Tia Louise
“You guys are laughing way too much,” Kenny says, prancing forward in her champagne stilettos. “Give me a mimosa.”
“Oh!” I wave my hand at them and pull my skirt up so I can run across the room. Digging in my bag, I pull out a handful of tissue-wrapped parcels. “I have these for your feet. You can’t wear heels in the sand.”
Tossing them each a bundle, we rip into the packages to find lace-covered elastic foot-thongs.
Kenny’s small nose wrinkles. “What is this?”
“It’s ‘shoes’ for a beach wedding,” I explain. “Look. Slipping off the Marine-blue heel I’m wearing, I fit the contraption over my foot. The thong portion goes between my toes and the lace overlay covers the top of my foot. I hook the back over my heel. “Isn’t that pretty?”
Her face changes. “Yes...” she starts to laugh, “It actually is.”
With the stiletto queen onboard, the rest of the girls ditch their shoes and start pulling on lace “thongs.”
“Have you seen Derek’s hair?” Mariska gushes to her friend. “I love it.”
Standing up fast, “What did he do to his hair?”
“He cut it.” Elaine is next to me and makes an excited face. “He looks amazing.”
I’m not sure I’m happy about this. I love threading my fingers through his collar-length dark waves. “Why would he do that?”
“Probably because of the dress whites,” Mariska continues, unaffected. “Stuart went with him and got even more taken off his.”
“Stuart’s hair was already short,” I say, looking in the mirror and feeling concerned. I can’t imagine Derek high and tight.
Elaine’s right with me, placing her hands on my waist. “Trust me. You’re going to love it.”
“Love what?” My mother enters the room in her rose-colored, tea-length chiffon dress.
“Mom,” I step over and hug her then pull back, nose wrinkled. “Where’s Dex?”
“Star’s watching him. He’s having a ball, playing in the sand with Lane and Cammie.” She leans toward the mirror and straightens her dark hair behind one ear. “If they weren’t so cute, I’d make them stop.”
“Is Star okay watching them?”
“She doesn’t mind, and Amy’s with them.”
“Amy’s here!” Elaine perks up at the mention of Patrick’s little sister. “I’ll be right back. I haven’t seen her yet.”
She runs out, and my mother gives me a serious look. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
She holds out a cream-colored envelope with my name written on it in brown ink. It’s fine linen stationary with a large A embossed on the outside, and I recognize Derek’s handwriting. Taking it carefully, my lips press together. I look up at her.
“Take it behind the screen and read it,” she says with a little smile.
Stepping around the wooden dressing screen, I do as she says.
At first, I only slide my hands over the smooth paper. His script is precise and blocky, controlled just like my man... except when he isn’t. A tingle of love passes through my stomach, and I turn the envelope over. Lifting the seal, I pull the heavy paper out and open it. He’s written me a letter.
Dear Melissa,
(Or should I say “Miss Jones”?)
I’m a bit older than you, so this might seem old-fashioned. I wanted to write you a letter to read on our wedding day. In the future, if you ever doubt me, you can read this and know my heart.
Before I met you, I was in a dark place. I thought this part of my life had ended, and I never expected to have a family or even to find love again. Then you appeared.
You changed my life in ways I can’t explain. The weeks we were apart, the nights I thought our separation might last a lifetime... It was the worst time of my life.
I can’t imagine me without you.
I’m sure I’ll mess up again, but please know if I do, I’ll be the first one to fix it, to find a way back to us.
I lost myself in the darkness of trying to protect you, but you’re my light. In the worst time of my life, your true colors shined through, and you demonstrated how deep your love is. You saved me.
Thank you for being my life. Thank you for giving me a son. I dedicate myself to loving you, to your happiness, and to never letting you feel in the dark.
My love.
My life.
My family.
I’ll be the one down front waiting to make you mine.
Love,
Derek
(Or should I say “Mr. Alexander”?)
I sniff a laugh, and it’s way too late for tissues. My makeup is ruined. “Oh, Derek,” I whisper. “You are full of surprises.”
“What’s going on?” Elaine is back, and when she rounds the screen, she squeals. “Oh no! We have to redo your eyes!”
“Just forget it,” I say, waving my hand. “I’ll put on some lipstick and go with it.”
“Your veil doesn’t cover your face!”
“It’s okay. He’ll know why I’m crying.” My eyes drift to the window, and I share a secret smile. “It’ll make him happy.”
Elaine shakes her head as she smooths my hair back. “I’m not sure you’re going to be happy with these wedding photos in a year.”
“I’m already happier than I can ever say.”
* * *
At the front of our line, Kenny holds Slayde’s arm. He’s in a dark blue suit that makes his eyes glow silver. Behind them, Mariska holds Stuart’s arm. He’s in his dress whites, which I now know means white pants, belt, and hat. The coat is the traditional deep navy with red piping. He looks amazing, and my breath catches in my throat imagining how my Marine will look.
Behind them, Elaine absolutely glows in her sparkling dress. Patrick is more formal than I’ve ever seen him in his Guard uniform. Navy coat and pants, gold stripes down the legs, gold crest on his sleeves and hat. Gorgeous.
Edward Merritt, my best friend’s dad, takes my arm. “Your father would be very proud,” he says, and I glance up at his salt and pepper hair, remembering a time when everyone imagined I’d be with Marcus.
“I appreciate you doing this,” I say softly. “I can’t imagine anyone else escorting me.”
He gives me a warm smile that crinkles the corners of his green eyes. Elaine looks so much like him. “You’re a beautiful, accomplished woman, Melissa. I’m proud to represent your father.”
Squeezing his arm, I put my head briefly against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
My cousin Ryan appears in a navy suit to escort Mom to her place in the front. He’s a cute college guy with messy blonde hair. Mom takes his arm and kisses his cheek before the two head out toward the front.
The strains of Pachelbel’s Canon drift to us, and it’s time to move. Kenny and Slayde begin the procession, and my chest clenches. Mariska and Stuart are next. I don’t miss the warm look that passes between them, and the idea they have a secret only briefly enters my mind before Elaine and Patrick start walking. Butterflies fill my stomach, and I feel like I’ll laugh and cry at the same time.
The music gradually builds, but I can’t see him yet. Our witnesses all stand by their small white chairs arranged in two sections on the sand. Friends and relatives smile as I pass. A few cover their mouths, and some dab their eyes.
Damn this flat sand. I grip Edward’s arm, trying to see him when the procession opens before me. Dex is the first one I see in his little navy suit. He points at once and shouts, “May!” which makes everyone laugh. He starts to run to me, but Mom catches him in her arms. I blow him a little kiss before looking up again.
In a flash, I pan across the groomsmen—Slayde looking like a rockstar, Patrick looking like a model, of course he gives me a wink. Stuart is completely intimidating, but his eyes are on the beautiful girl in ocean-blue chiffon standing with my bridesmaids.
When at last I see Derek, my breath catches. Under the black brim of his white cap, his steel-grey eyes fix on mine. It’s as if he s
ees all the way to my soul, and I feel it catch fire inside me. My vision tunnels. I don’t even hear the words of Edward giving me away. I only know I’m drawn to this man watching me with such intensity.
A flash of timidity tightens my stomach as I reach out to take his white-gloved hand, but the moment he pulls me close, all fear melts away. We’re facing each other, and I can only gaze at him with all the love expanding in my chest.
The minister leads us through our vows. Everything is very traditional.
For better or worse...
For richer or poorer...
In sickness and in health...
The words are a promise from the bottom of my heart. Derek removes his glove as we exchange rings. Shining, thick gold bands for each of us. Finally we’ve made it to the part I’ve been waiting for.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the man says. “You may kiss the bride.”
My lip catches in my teeth, and Derek reaches up to touch it with his thumb. “That’s for me to do,” he whispers before sliding his hand behind my neck and covering my mouth with his.
Of all the times we’ve kissed each other, this kiss outshines every one. His warm lips move mine apart, and with the gentle taste of his tongue, my head grows light. I’m afraid I’ll faint, but his strong arms hold me. It’s amazing and passionate, and I never want to let him go. Until I realize our friends are clapping and a loud whistle slices the air.
He smiles against my mouth and lifts his head a fraction. “It seems we have an audience.”
My dazed eyes open and I laugh, cupping his cheek. “I almost forgot.”
We turn as the minister calls over the noise, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Derek Alexander.”
The applause grows louder, and Stuart steps forward, giving a low command. He and their fellow Marines form a line of crossed swords, and we pass under the gleaming arch. Mom releases Dex, and he baby-runs to us. Derek catches him, lifting him on his arm. I turn and face my guys, and in that moment everything in my life is complete.
* * *
The hotel ballroom sparkles with white twinkle lights and dim lamps. At each table are bottles of champagne and small containers of bubbles. I haven’t stopped dancing with Derek since we arrived.
“We should probably eat something.” His low voice in my ear is a warm massage to my insides.
“I don’t want to be out of your arms,” I say, resting my temple against his cheek. I feel him smile.
“You never have to worry about that.”
Glancing up, I kiss his lips briefly before letting him lead me off the dance floor to where our friends sit at a round table covered in white linens. Close by is the wedding cake, and Aunt Bea outdid herself making a four-layer round cake covered in white fondant. Each layer has a navy bow around its base, and the Marines emblem decorates them all the way to the cake topper—a Marine in dress whites holding a bride in his arms. I smile and rest my cheek against Derek’s shoulder.
“Getting tired?” Elaine says to me, from where she’s sitting on Patrick’s lap.
I shake my head no just as Sylvia joins our group. “Derek,” she steps around and gives him a brief squeeze. “The wedding was lovely, but I’m afraid it’s late for me. Has anyone seen Amy?”
“We reserved a block of rooms if you’d like to spend the night here,” he says, holding her hand.
“We have one at this lovely B&B in town,” she says with a smile. “We already unpacked, or I’d stay. Now if I can just find my child.”
“Hey, Mom,” Stuart rounds the table to where Sylvia is standing. Mariska is right behind him, holding his hand. “Since most everyone is here, we figured it’s time to announce it.”
“Announce what?” Kenny perks up, her dark brows clutched.
My eyes widen in anticipation. I had a feeling this was coming.
“Mariska has agreed to marry me.”
“What!” Her friend is out of her seat and going to them fast. “When did this happen?”
Mariska beams as Kenny takes her hand. “I actually agreed about a month ago, but then he changed his mind.”
Kenny’s face snaps up, but Stuart grabs Mariska around the waist, pulling her to him and kissing her neck before nipping her ear.
She squeals a laugh. “I was teasing!”
“Mom had to bring me the ring,” he corrects her. “It was our grandmother’s.”
“Oh! Let me see.” We all crowd around to examine the delicate white-gold engagement ring. It’s in the shape of a flower lying on its side with a large round diamond in the center.
“It’s beautiful,” I say with a smile, looking up at Stuart.
“I wanted it to be bigger—”
“That would’ve ruined the design!” Mariska argues.
“It’s perfect for you,” Elaine says, giving her a hug. “And now we’ll be sisters.”
“Speaking of sisters,” Sylvia interjects. “If you see your other one, tell her I’m looking for her. Congratulations,” She stretches up and kisses Stuart’s cheek. Then she puts an arm around Mariska’s shoulders. “Best wishes, although you don’t need it. You are one impressive young lady.”
“Thank you,” Mariska laughs.
Stuart gives her another squeeze before answering Sylvia. “I spoke to Amy at the bar a few minutes ago. I’ll try and find her if you want.”
“Oh, I can wait a little longer,” his mother pats his arm. “I’m glad to see my children so happy.”
Derek’s arms are around me again, and I can’t help agreeing with her. So much has happened to get us here. Breakups, secrets, heartbreaking discoveries that turned into blessings or paths to forgiveness, and now the most resistant member of the group has found a home.
“This day couldn’t get any better,” I sigh, leaning my head back against his shoulder.
His lips touch the side of my neck, sending tingles through my stomach. “It’s only the beginning.”
I know he’s right. We’ve each made it through the dark times, and we’ve found the one to hold, keep, love, and save. Another wedding to plan, more babies will arrive...
I’m so lucky to be with this man. He’s risked his life for me again and again, and all I want to do is make that risk worth taking. When I see the love in his eyes and feel the love in my heart, I know it is. The future is wide open, and our love is strong. I can’t wait to see what’s next for all of us.
The end.
Epilogue: Runaway
Amy
Returning from Paris, the last thing I’m in the mood for is a wedding. Still, Derek Alexander is the closest thing I have to a third brother. He’s also my favorite of Stuart’s friends—and Patrick’s, I guess. Anyone who can get those two to put down their arms and stop fighting is a master in my book. Also, Mom insists I go with her so she doesn’t have to go alone. I suspect she’s hoping I’ll meet someone as always. The woman is living for more grandchildren these days.
I’ve only been to Wilmington once, but it’s a precious little beach community. Sylvia, being the way she is, has found an exclusively plush bed and breakfast for us to stay in. It would be the perfect girls’ getaway, and I love spending time with my mother—except for the wedding part.
“Melissa is the dearest thing,” she says as she unpacks her black and white-patterned Vera Bradley luggage. “She’s in marketing, so if you have a chance, let her know that’s what you do.”
“I doubt she’ll want to discuss work on her wedding day.” I watch as she fiddles with the navy and red-patterned silk scarf tied neatly at her throat.
She steps back and runs her hands down her sandy-blonde bob. For her age, Mom is still a beautiful woman. It helps that she’s Coco Chanel-elegant in all things, the result of her upbringing. She survived the same elite childhood as my brothers and I. The nice thing is she’s not cold-hearted, passive-aggressive, or a materialistic bitch like so many of my friends have for mothers. We had dear old Dad to fill that role.
“How much time before the weddin
g?” I assess my long blonde hair and decide I won’t need to wash it. I would, however, like to freshen up.
“It starts at six, so we should probably leave in a half hour.”
“I’ll be ready.”
I step into the large bathroom and close the door. I haven’t had any time to come down from my sudden departure from Europe. I haven’t even given myself a moment to consider what Armand is thinking. I honestly don’t care to know.
Sinking into the warm bath, I close my eyes and allow the lavender-scented water to relax me. Armand made the fuck-up. I was always completely honest with him. It’s probably the reason he hasn’t called since I walked out, not that I really care for that to happen either. No, he knew before he even said the words how I would respond. Now here we are, and I’m not looking back.
Promptly half an hour later, I’m dressed and applying red lipstick as Sylvia fastens a chunky strand of pearls at her neck. She’s dressed in a beige, sleeveless shift with black accents at the shoulders and hips. Classic Coco. I on the other hand, am wearing a long slip-dress with high slits above each leg. It’s white with black leather accents, and I top it with a fluffy mohair vest. Very Valentino.
“You look fresh off the Paris catwalk,” Mom says with a smile.
I shrug. “Not much point living in Paris if you don’t indulge in the fashions.”
We’re out the door and headed to the beach in less than five.
* * *
The wedding is a stunning showcase of our nation’s finest. I still can’t believe both my older brothers are veterans. Patrick most of all. Stuart was always fighting his natural tendency to be exactly like our father, but my favorite brother is so playful and fun. It’s still hard to imagine him carrying a rifle, much less actually using it to kill someone. Of course, I’m pretty sure his stint in the Guard was intended to satisfy our father’s chauvinistic requirements while avoiding deployment. Poor darling. Talk about backfires.
“Looks like you came back from Europe a woman.” The familiar male voice surprises me with its cheerfulness. I turn to see my oldest brother actually smiling for the first time in my life.