“Yeah it is,” Quentin says amiably. He grabs Russ’s shoulder and squeezes, hard. “It is the end of it, Russel.”
Russ shakes loose. “I’m not scared of you.”
Quentin laughs. “Right. Come on, ladies. Let’s go home.”
Kelly cheers and runs in circles once we’re outside, walking down the sidewalk to the parking lot. Karen is walking on air, almost skipping.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Quentin announces loudly.
He had Kelly at “eat”; I’m hungry and I’m sure Karen is, too. We all climb in the Impala and Quentin drives to a little diner not far from the college. I’ve driven by it my whole life but never eaten there, oddly enough.
The waitress seems to know him. We get a booth in the corner. Kelly gets a ridiculous breakfast meal with eggs, sausage, bacon, French toast, pancakes, and a waffle. It takes up two plates. Quentin orders a burger and Kelly and I just have what he’s having.
He eats one-handed, keeping the other resting on my shoulders.
“Did you say something to the judge?” I ask him, keeping my voice low.
“I said several things. You might say I filed a friend-of-the-court brief. He found my arguments pointed and weighty.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do things like that.”
He laughs and swipes at his chin with a napkin. “No you don’t.”
“So when is it?” Karen demands. “When are you getting married?”
I never pictured myself wearing a wedding dress again. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I can’t believe I’m looking at my own image. I had my hair done last night at the finest salon in Castlebrook, Kate’s Coiffure. I went to a boutique in Philadelphia for this dress, a creamy lace number that feels too revealing. I opted to show some cleavage and I’m regretting it.
I can’t wait to see the look on Quentin’s face, though. Especially when he sees what I’m wearing under it.
Karen is my maid of honor and Kelly will be the flower girl. They both look adorable in their matching dresses. I invited everyone I could think of to this thing: classmates, professors, I even invited Russ just to rub his nose in it. Hopefully he won’t make an ass out of himself during the ceremony.
We’re having a Catholic wedding. I haven’t been to church in years and years but my mother and father are serious about it and insisted. My mother almost lost it when I suggested I might have a judge perform the ceremony.
My last wedding was grandiose. This will be a bit smaller. Just a ceremony, a reception at the fire hall, and then the girls are spending the next week with Grandma and Grandpa in Ohio while Quentin and I take our honeymoon.
I’ve never been so nervous in my life. The church is packed; I asked a few people to fill out the groom’s side. I don’t think Quentin even has anybody to invite.
This is actually happening. The organist is playing the wedding march. Karen gives me a little push when I don’t start moving right away and I almost stumble out between the pews and start walking.
Quentin’s face lights up when he sees me. He stares openly and hungrily as my father walks me down the aisle and steps aside as I move up to Quentin.
“You look magnificent,” he whispers.
I feel a flutter in my stomach. He cuts a fine figure himself. My throat is dry as a bone. I hope I can manage to squeak out the words.
It’s a long ceremony. Karen almost looks annoyed that it’s taking so much time. Finally we get to the vows. Quentin slips the ring on my finger and I bite my lip, forcing back the tears welling in my eyes. I stopped wearing my old wedding band after I learned about Russ’s infidelity. It feels strange to have a new one on my finger. I make a fist, as if I’m afraid it’ll slip off, and Quentin clutches my hand.
When it’s my turn I croak out an, “I do,” and he grabs me and kisses me hard, passionately, and when he finally lets go of me I’m red as a beet and turn redder when I see the look on Karen’s face.
The reception is a blur. Toasts are made, cake is eaten, dances are had. I feel silly in my ridiculous dress, and it itches. I can’t wait to get out of it, mostly for other reasons.
Kelly is a little annoyed that she has to go home with her grandparents, but Karen mostly seems amused.
“Are you guys going to be okay without me?”
“We’ll be fine,” Quentin says, smirking. “Go on.”
The limo is ready to pick us up. We’ll be spending the night at the Hilton in Philadelphia before catching a flight to Hawaii. I can’t believe I’m actually going. None of this feels real.
Once we’re in the limo, Quentin raises the privacy screen without saying a word and pulls me to him.
“Ever since I saw you in that dress I wanted to rip it off you,” he growls in my ear.
“You’d better not,” I say, playfully thumping his chest. “It wasn’t cheap.”
He laughs. “Are you wearing anything under it?”
“Yes,” I say, smirking. I slip my hands inside his jacket and hug him. I love how warm he feels.
“Why are you always so cold?”