My cousin brought over a travel-sized bottle of Fireball whiskey. "If you ask me,” Maggie said, “this is better than Xanax. You’re relaxed without feeling sedated.”
I grabbed it from her hands, twisted the lid open, and looked up at Deb.
She shrugged. “If you’re going to drink that, I’m next.”
I took a large gulp and then handed the rest to Deb, who finished it off.
After a few minutes, I began to feel more relaxed.
Aunt Ellen stood. “You look like you’re feeling better, but I’m not a nurse. Deb?”
“I feel better, so I’m going to go ahead and take a guess that she does, too.”
I inhaled deeply. “Much. Thank you. You’re that aunt with literally everything in her purse.”
She patted her oversize Louis Vuitton saddlebag. “A lesson taught to me by your great-grandmother Celeste: a lady is always prepared, whether it’s a broken nail or a Saturday Night Special.”
Deb narrowed her eyes. “Ellen, do you really have a gun in your purse?”
Aunt Ellen simply winked.
Zane sighed, annoyed with his mother. “Mom, she’s gonna be late. Family reunion later, okay?”
I stood and hugged my cousins before walking out into the sunshine and across Myers Park. In the center of the expansive field was a large tree looming very close to where Josh had taken me on one of our stranger dates.
To help me overcome my hatred for coconuts, Josh had had Quinn help him secure a kiddie pool and an oversize sandbox. As I walked across the courtyard with my family, I suppressed a giggle, remembering my soon-to-be husband in a frighteningly high-cut yellow speedo, lounging next to a small plastic pool. He’d said that the date doubled for my hatred for overripe bananas, for obvious reasons.
It had turned out to be a surprisingly romantic getaway that we’d both needed during a time when vacationing would have been impossible.
Bouquet in hand, I felt my heart pounding, knowing at any moment, I would see Josh. I slipped away to the memory of our coconut date, relaxing to music and working on our tans. It had been worth being scolded by a police officer who couldn’t keep from staring at Josh’s banana hammock.
A laugh escaped me, and Deb bumped her shoulder against mine, sharing in my quiet happiness.
My mind flashed again to the hospital, and I blinked. “What the hell?” I said under my breath.
“Headache?” she asked. “I’ll get you more water. Maybe ibuprofen will help.”
“No. It’s not a headache. I’m seeing things, Deb.”
“You’re hallucinating?”
“No. Just when I close my eyes.”
Deb watched, mildly worried while the officiant came into view, standing under the center tree. White lights hung from the branches, and even though it was daylight, they shimmered and twinkled under the canopy of leaves, reminding me of Christmas when he’d proposed. A faint dusting of white along the base of the large tree that trailed down between some potted plants gave the illusion of a magical path in a forest.
It all felt like a dream I never wanted to wake from. I was aware of the ridiculous grin on my face as I saw the tree, the candles, the flowers, and our families, and then my gaze settled on Josh. He stood by the officiant, wearing dark-wash denim with a black button-up shirt and black blazer I had helped him purchase a few weeks before.
His brows pulled in, his eyes glossed over, and he mouthed one simple word: beautiful.
In the distance, the sound of children’s laughter filtered through the chatter of our friends and family. Just like Josh had promised, our wedding was perfect. I positioned myself at the end of the makeshift aisle, nodding to the officiant that I was ready to begin.