The Wedding Day

“You look so handsome,” my mom says, tears threatening to stream from her eyes, making her mascara run. She reaches up, adjusting my fancy tie, brushing down the lapel of my coat. “I never thought I’d see this day. You, getting married. Your own family. I’m so happy for you.”

My sister Kathi smiles, standing back while Mom fawns over me. Kathi is all decked out in a matching morning suit, looking dapper as my twin. It’s quite the change from her usual dress of mud caked jeans, flannel shirt, and barnyard scented Wellingtons. She’s my best woman, and so far, she’s doing a good job of keeping me focused, on-time, and calm. Now I’m ten minutes from walking down the aisle, and the nerves are finally hitting me.

“I shouldn’t have had that third cup of coffee at breakfast,” I say, checking myself in the mirror. My hands are trembling.

“You’ll be okay,” Kathi promises, patting me on the back. “Just remember to breathe and you’ll get through it.”

“Where’s Jack?!” I hear a gruff, husky voice call from outside the room, down the corridor. A moment later a familiar figure pops inside the door, peering inside.

Uncle Charlie hardly looks like himself. He’s gotten a haircut, trimmed his beard, and he’s wearing a suit instead of his usual crusty denim overalls. He looks downright civilized.

“There he is!” Charlie says, clapping his big hand across my shoulders. “Son, you look like you just swallowed Grandma’s canary. Relax. You ain’t in trouble. You’re just getting married, that’s all.”

Easy for him to say. I think the entire town of Abingdon is outside on the grounds, gathering in their seats to see Dillon and me stand up together. I hope I remember my lines. I’m so nervous, I can hardly recall my own name. I’ve got cotton mouth and am working on a headache.

Charlie reaches into his suit pocket, producing a shiny silver flask.

“Have a taste, son,” he says, pushing it in my direction. “It’ll take the edge off and put some iron in your back.”

I recall the potent, burning brew I sampled from Charlie’s still last year. The idea of a drink right about now comes as a welcome thought, but what kind of groom has to drink to buck-up for his own wedding?

“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Dillon already hit on it, so you ain’t drinkin’ alone.”

“Since you put it that way,” I say, taking the flask from his outstretched hand, pressing it to my lips, rolling back a generous swig, swallowing fast before the wave of fire sears my lungs.

“That’s my city boy!” Charlie laughs, slapping me on my back while I cough. “You’ll be alright. Now get on out there and get cracking. I’m only here for the reception!”

A few minutes later I’m feeling improved with a welcome glow burning my cheeks. I peek out the window to have a look at the crowd gathered on the lawn of the Martha Washington Hotel and am astonished at just how many people have come. Judging by the faces I see in attendance, I hope there are no robberies, no fires, and no heart attacks in town for the next few hours. I think every fireman, cop, and EMT in the county is here, but then so is almost everyone else. All of Manning Holler is seated on Dillon’s side of the tent. By the looks of it, they’ve already gotten the party started. My side is filled with EMTs and all of Kathi and Griff’s friends, rounded out by Kendall Vincent and most of the members of my yoga classes.

“It’s time,” Kathi says, slipping up behind me, placing her hand on my shoulder. My heart skips a beat.

I look at her with wide eyes, take a deep breath, then pull my shirt cuffs down, straightening my jacket.

“You look great,” she says. “Best looking groom I’ve seen all day.”

Dillon and I meet the wedding party at the back of the tent. He looks so sharp filling out his suit like a movie star. He grins ear-to-ear, taking my arm, his blue eyes flashing.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, his expression loaded with mischief.

I nod, unable to conceal my nerves. I’m already starting to tear up. “Yeah,” I reply, choking back emotion. “Ready.”

Chrissy, who is the most beautifully stunning flower girl I’ve ever beheld, leads us down the aisle between our guests. She litters the grass beneath our feet with fragrant gardenia petals, the whole space quickly filling with the sweet summertime scent as we pass. Arm in arm, Dillon and I make our way forward, halting before a Justice of the Peace who’s to read the ceremony for us.

Gil stands beside Dillon, while Kathi stands up for me. Jordan and Joey act as spare groomsmen; one for each of us. Out in the audience, I hear my mother blow her nose. She may be even happier in this moment than I am; although that seems difficult to believe.

Like Mom, I never really allowed myself to even hope I’d find myself here, standing hand-in-hand before the man I love, the two of us surrounded by a whole community of family and friends who care about us, and who want to partake in this celebration of our commitment to one another.

There’s so much warm sentiment for me and Dillon—not to mention for our kids—collected under this tent, that it’s almost palpable. So many people in attendance today helped make this moment possible. So many helped us overcome the obstacles we put in front of ourselves and overcome those thrown at us by an adversarial world. There’s no way we could have gotten here alone.

Dillon and I speak our vows, exchanging matching platinum rings, solemnizing our promises and our aspirations for one another and our family. When we’re done, once the blessing of our union is rendered, the Justice pronounces us husbands—at long last.

Dillon, who hasn’t let go of my hand even once, turns to me with a massively happy smile, then leans in and kisses me hard, cupping my chin in his hand the way he does when we’re alone and about to take it to the next level.

My knees go weak. My breath fails me. I melt into his arms, pouring myself into his kiss—into my husband’s deep, soulful, consuming kiss—and for a long, dizzying moment, I’m lost. Everyone and everything else melts away.

“Hey boys! Get a room!” someone shouts from the crowd, breaking our moment, causing everyone to laugh and applaud.

Dillon breaks our kiss, still holding me close. He looks deep into my tear-filled eyes and without pausing for breath, he whispers, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and now your ass is mine—forever.”

I can’t help but laugh between streaming tears. I hug him tight, holding him close.

“Don’t you forget it,” I whisper in his ear. “I love you more than ice cream, or waffles, or kittens.”

A moment later we’re engulfed in hugs, beginning with Joey, Chrissy, and Jordan, followed by Kathi and Griff, my mom, Ginny, Carrie, our baby sitter Gretchen, and even Gil, Nikki Rippon and Fox Lee. The whole town throws in with so many people patting us on the back, shaking our hands, wrapping us in bear hugs, I’m overwhelmed with the love they shower upon us.

I realize, surrounded by this clan, that I didn’t just marry Dillon Manning. I married his family as well as this entire town. This is what it is to belong to other people. This is what it is to have a real family.

I’m in love with them all.