THE EVERWOOD INN at springtime was a riot of color. Red, pink, and yellow tulips flourished, bordering the walkway to the front door, while fuchsia rhododendrons and wildflowers encircled the backyard where a gauzy tent laced with fairy lights arched under the oaks.
Iris felt herself exhale as she walked into Claire and Delilah’s wedding space—underneath the tent, it was golden and green, candles already lit on the ten circular wooden tables. The event would be small, but perfect, Iris had no doubt, as Astrid Parker stood near the center of the tent with her iPad, dressed in a black tea dress, ruling the world.
Iris watched her for a second, this first in-person glimpse of her friend since she moved to Brooklyn four months ago like a cooling sip of water on a July afternoon.
“She looks good,” Stevie said, her fingers tangled with Iris’s.
Iris smiled. “She always does.”
“Don’t you want to say hi?”
Iris nodded but didn’t move. In all honesty, her heart felt huge in her chest, her eyes stinging slightly. God, she’d missed Astrid. She’d missed them all, but she knew that was part of the deal when she decided to move across the country to be with Stevie. It was the right choice. Iris loved New York, loved Brooklyn in particular, and there was nothing like waking up next to Stevie Scott every morning, kissing her to sleep every night.
Iris was happy, hard at work on her third novel, partnered with the most beautiful person in the world.
But god, it was nice to be home.
“You okay?” Stevie asked, sliding a hand down Iris’s hair.
Iris nodded, pressed her nose to her girlfriend’s neck. Even six months after their reconciliation outside of Stevie’s apartment in Brooklyn, after the long discussion they had afterward about next steps, after two arduous months where they did long distance before Iris moved to New York, she still couldn’t believe she got to kiss this woman every day. Touch her, hold hands while walking down the street. Even more, she couldn’t believe how much she loved doing it—all the relationship things she’d convinced herself for too long she wasn’t built for, didn’t want.
Turned out, Stevie Scott had transformed Iris into a partner, and Iris was grateful for every second.
“Just happy to be here,” Iris said against Stevie’s skin. Stevie’s arm circled her waist, pulled her close, and they stood like that for a second, Iris mentally preparing herself for this wedding. About two months ago, Claire and Delilah had set up a Zoom call with Astrid and Iris to go over some wedding details, at the end of which the brides had requested that Iris and Astrid walk them down the aisle, all four of them at once. Iris had been floored, honored beyond measure, and then spent the rest of the evening in tears with her head in Stevie’s lap, missing her friends so much there was a physical ache in her chest.
“Me too,” Stevie said now into Iris’s hair. “Why don’t we go say—”
“Iris!”
Claire’s voice cut Stevie off, as bride number one strolled into the tent, her hair already done up in a gorgeous twist, her makeup perfect. She wore a button-down and denim shorts, and she looked beautiful.
Iris’s eyes welled—she couldn’t help it, they filled on their own, tears already tracking down her cheeks as Stevie released her and she made her way toward her best friend. They collided, arms and hands and laughter, trying to squeeze four months’ worth of hugs into a single embrace.
“Claire, don’t you dare cry,” Astrid said as she headed their way.
Iris pulled back, but only so she could gulp Astrid into her arms as well.
“Iris is!” Claire said, laughing.
“Yeah, but I’m not a blushing bride,” Iris said, still holding on to Astrid while she reached out and wiped gently at Claire’s cheeks, then cupped her face. “You look fucking hot.”
Claire smiled. “Thank you. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” Iris said. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
“I barely noticed you were gone,” Delilah said as she strolled into the tent, her hair loose and wild. She had on her customary black tank top and dark gray jeans, all of her tattoos on display.
“Bitch, who could miss this much attitude?” Iris said, but she grinned and yanked Delilah into her arms. Delilah laughed and held her close, kissing Iris on the side of the head. Iris leaned into her, one arm wrapped around her waist, when she noticed three birds inked onto Delilah’s chest, right above her heart.
“What is this?” Iris said, grabbing Delilah’s arm and pulling her closer. “New ink?”
Delilah met Claire’s eyes. Smiled. “Very new. Just got it a few weeks ago.” She pulled her tank strap down a little, revealing the full art. Three birds—swallows, Iris thought—faced one another in a triangle shape, all of their wings in different positions.
“If you tell me these beautiful birds on your skin represent you, Claire, and Ruby,” Iris said, “I’m going to faint right here. Might literally die.”
Delilah shrugged. “Okay, I won’t tell you that, but only because I’d rather your violent death not mar my wedding to the love of my life.”
Claire laughed, laced her fingers with Delilah’s before tangling her other hand with Iris’s. Iris reached out to take Astrid’s hand, her chest opening up at their little foursome. It was nearly three years ago that Delilah walked into their lives, a tangled mess, rough and sarcastic, and now Iris couldn’t imagine her life without her. Didn’t want to.
Iris had always adored her friends, but these past few months without them, she’d realized just how much she needed them, how vital they were to her well-being and happiness, just as vital as Stevie herself.
If not more so.
She looked at Astrid and Claire, her ride or die since they were ten years old, and her eyes welled up again.
“Jesus,” Delilah said, wiping Iris’s tears away with her thumb. “You’re a fucking mess.”
Iris laughed. “Here for all your chaotic needs.”
“Don’t know what I’d do without all the chaos, to be honest,” Delilah said, winking at her.
Iris winked back.
And then she started crying again.
TWO HOURS LATER, Iris stood on the Everwood’s back patio, the green backyard dappled with white folding chairs now filled with Claire and Delilah’s closest friends and family. Down front, Josh Foster—Claire’s ex, friend, and co-parent—stood in a gray suit underneath an arch of wildflowers, awaiting the brides, to join them together. Iris also spotted Isabel Parker-Green, Astrid’s mother, sitting next to Brianne, Claire’s pink-haired manager for River Wild, deep in conversation about Iris couldn’t even imagine what. Isabel’s hair was cut into a new shorter style, the color definitely veering more silver these days as opposed to her ritualistic dyed blond.
Most importantly, Stevie and Jordan sat together with Simon, the three of them talking and laughing. Iris watched them for a while, the sheer happiness of seeing Stevie getting along so well with all of her favorite people like a drug she never wanted to stop taking.
Iris forced herself to suck up all of her overwhelming emotions and turned back to face the wedding party, where Claire and Delilah were already whispering sweet nothings to each other before they even walked down the aisle. Ruby stood with Katherine, Claire’s mother, adorable in her baby queer black suit and light pink dress shirt, which complemented Delilah’s ivory suit nearly perfectly. Claire’s dress was vintage, lacey and off-white, falling to just below her knees and showing off her strappy heels. Astrid and Iris were both dressed in their own choices—Astrid in a black bandage dress, Iris in a dove-gray maxi.
Everyone looked perfect.
“Okay, you two,” Astrid said, tapping Claire on the shoulder to get her and her future wife to stop making out. “It’s showtime.”
Claire nodded, kissed Delilah once more before turning to her daughter. They hugged, Claire pressing a kiss to the top of the girl’s head, and then Delilah joined their embrace before Katherine and Ruby walked down the aisle to soft guitar music.
Now it was just the four of them, Claire and Delilah in the middle, Iris and Astrid on either side of them.
“Are we ready for this?” Astrid asked.