by Sofie Kelly
“I really don’t need to hear this,” Ami exclaimed, clamping her hands over her ears.
We all laughed.
“My turn,” I said. I felt the unexpected prickle of tears as I gave Rebecca my package. “This is something new.”
Rebecca undid the paper and the ribbons and opened the small jewelry box. “Oh my word, these are lovely.”
I’d gotten her tiny silver heart earrings as close to a match as I could find to Ami’s locket.
“Thank you, my dear,” she said as she wrapped me in a hug. “This day wouldn’t be happening without you,” she whispered.
“Just be happy,” I whispered back.
Rebecca pulled out of the hug and turned to the mirror to put on the earrings. They looked as good as I’d hoped they would when I bought them.
“Thank you,” she said. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I wasn’t expecting this tradition.” She smiled at Ami. “But isn’t it something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue? Unless you were thinking I’m the old.”
“You are not old,” Ami said firmly. She glanced at Roma and me, and with exquisite timing there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Rebecca called.
The door swung open and a man about my age stood in the doorway. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a blue shirt and a blue-and-gray tie. He had blue eyes, shaggy salt-and-pepper hair and Rebecca’s smile. “Was someone looking for something old?” he asked.
“Matthew!” Rebecca exclaimed.
He covered the space between the door and his mother and lifted her up into a hug.
“How? How?” Rebecca said as she touched his face and ran a hand through his hair.
Matthew Nixon smiled at his mother. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Everett Henderson doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”
“He wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams,” I said.
“Oh, I am,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her son again.
Ami looked at me and grinned. I saw Roma surreptitiously wipe away a tear. I had to blink back a couple myself.
It was the most beautiful wedding I’d ever been to. Rebecca’s favorite people were my favorite people, too—Roma, Maggie, Harry Taylor Senior and Junior, Marcus, Brady Chapman, Mary and her husband. And Oren Kenyon played the piano.
Rebecca’s brother, Stephen, the best man, walked with the maid of honor, Ami. He was a taller version of his sister with kind gray eyes. Harrison Taylor escorted Roma, and I walked in with Burtis Chapman.
“Thank you for everything you did for my boys,” Burtis said as we waited for our cue to start walking.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Thank you for helping save my life.”
He smiled. “Anytime, girl,” he said.
And after so many years of waiting to be together, Rebecca and Everett were finally married, fittingly, it seemed to me, in the place where they had fallen in love more than fifty years before.
After we’d toasted the happy couple, Rebecca walked over to Marcus and me. She handed me the bouquet of daisies that she’d carried.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“Tradition—and Ami—says I should throw this, but I’m not because I want you to have it.” She looked at Marcus. “Don’t wait too long for your happily ever after,” she said. Then she turned and walked back to her new husband.
“They’re pretty,” Marcus said, gesturing to the flowers. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “And I like the sound of happily ever after.”
I smiled up at him. I liked the sound of it, too.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sofie Kelly is an author and mixed-media artist who lives on the East Coast with her husband and daughter. In her spare time she practices Wu-style tai chi and likes to prowl around thrift stores. And she admits to having a small crush on Matt Lauer.
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