My dad’s and Sherry’s wedding reception has been a big hit. The food is delicious and the drinks are flowing.
“And now we have a very special dance,” the DJ announces. “It’s a father- daughter dance, between the groom and his daughter Chelsea.”
The spotlight is on Dad and me now, and all of his and Sherry’s wedding guests cheer. My brother is here, which is great because I haven’t seen him in quite a while.
The entire football team is also in attendance, including Wesley of course. Last season the Wildcats were football conference champions and this season is already shaping up to be even better than last year.
As Dad and I dance to “Butterfly Kisses,” I swear I see tears well up in his eyes. That’s a rare thing, because he almost never cries.
“It was a beautiful wedding ceremony, Dad,” I tell him, not mentioning his tears. “Everything was absolutely perfect. And now this reception is rocking. Good job.”
“Thank you for your support,” he says. “I know it was hard to get used to the idea of Sherry and me being together, and I would never want to replace your mother…”
“I know,” I tell him, squeezing his shoulder.
And it’s true. I was filled with joy at the wedding, seeing him happier than he’d been since my mom was here with us. “
“And I know that mom would be glad that you’re happy, just like I am,” I tell him.
I adjust the boutonniere he’s wearing. It’s a daisy, my mom’s favorite flower, in her honor. There’s one in my hair, too. And I read a Pablo Neruda poem during the ceremony.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
It felt like an homage to the way the relationship started out between my dad and Taylor’s mom. And also the way that my relationship with Wesley started out. Now we can all have public relationships, but they began as something to be cherished privately.
As dad and I dance, I think about how happy I am that everything has turned out even better than I could possibly hope for. When the song ends, the DJ clears his throat.
“And now the groom’s daughter and the bride’s daughter would like to pay tribute to their parents,” he says. “So they’ve prepared a surprise.”
“What?” My dad asks, his mouth open.
“Come on,” I say, leading him over to a chair beside Sherry.
Taylor is already walking over to the DJ’s booth to collect the pom-poms we had hidden there prior to the reception starting. “
“You know that Taylor and I have a flair for the dramatic,” I tell him. “You had to be expecting this.”
“Ya’all ready for this?” blasts over the speakers, and Taylor and I begin the routine I’d choreographed, which is an Evolution of Dance sequence that goes through songs reminiscent of my dad and Sherry.
Taylor and I start with “My Girl,” and then our entire squad joins in for “Hooked on a Feeling,” “Treasure” and “The Way You Look Tonight.”
They do a fantastic job, but I’d expect nothing less. We ended up winning Nationals, and this year with a strong crop of new cheerleaders joining us— and the return of Mandy, who successfully completed physical therapy and rehab— we’re an even better squad that will undoubtedly win again.
Everyone was very supportive during Christian’s trial, and he’ll be locked up for a very long time. Testifying was difficult because it forced me to remember and re-live that awful day but I’m glad that all of that ended before my dad’s wedding, so that now I can just relax and enjoy it.
Finally, Taylor and I finish up with rewritten words to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air song that we rap while the rest of our squad members dance. At the end, we do the victory cheer we always perform after the Wildcats win, which is also switched up to be personalized for my dad and Sherry.
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
He’s Coach Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And she’s Sherry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to marry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We’ll go to their wedding
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
They’ll live happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Mr. and Mrs. Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Go on your honeymoon
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And to your happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We kick our legs and throw our pom poms in the air, and Mandy does a back flip for the grand finale.
“Thank you, Sweetheart!” My dad says, as all the wedding guests join us in clapping.
“That was lovely,” Sherry agrees.
Later, after a fun night full of lots of dancing, toasting and celebrating, it’s indeed time for the newly married couple to leave for their honeymoon in the Caribbean.
“Wait,” says Sherry. “I have to throw my bouquet first!”
The DJ starts playing “All the Single Ladies,” and a bunch of us dutifully line up behind her.
“One, two, three…” she says, and then tosses it over her head.
As it arches perfectly straight in my direction, I know it’s meant to be, but I still feel rather nervous and embarrassed.
“Chelsea! You’re next!” Sherry says, as she turns around and doesn’t seem surprised at all that I caught it. She winks at me.
“No pressure,” she tells Wesley.
“Have a great honeymoon!” I tell her and my dad one last time, to change the subject.
Taylor says the same thing, and then my dad and Sherry run off to their limo.
“I still can’t believe your dad and my mom got married,” Taylor says, scrunching up her face in mock disgust, and looking like the little girl I knew when I was eight years old.
“Me neither,” I tell her. “But I love you. And I guess we really are sisters now.”
“I love you too,” she says, and hugs me.
Wesley’s standing beside me, still looking shell shocked by the fact that I caught the bouquet, I guess.
“How mortifying,” I tell Wesley. “Don’t worry. It’s just a silly wedding tradition.”
But then he’s down on one knee, looking up at me with an excited grin and I realize what his expression had been about.
He looks even more nervous and excited than right before we rode The Beast for the first time. We’ve been there quite a few times in the year we’ve been together since then.
“What?” I ask, but everyone around me begins to clap.
He pulls out a small box and opens it up.
It’s my mom’s engagement ring, which my dad had given her. I’d recognize it anywhere, as she’d worn it ever since I can remember and then I used to go into her top dresser drawer and look at it after she had passed away.
“If you want something different, of your own…” Wesley starts to say, as he sees me looking down at it.
“No, it’s perfect,” I tell him.
I bend down and hug him, not caring who can see me cry.
“Thank you!” I tell him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“So I guess that’s a yes?” he says, sincerely looking relieved.
“You haven’t even asked her yet, you moron,” one of the other football players shouts from the crowd, and everyone laughs.
“Oops.”
His brown eyes stare straight at me.
This is the bad boy I thought would never be mine.
Down on one knee, looking up at me.
“Chelsea Thompson, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. We kiss and kiss and kiss, until his teammates and my squad members are all groaning and telling us “Enough, already.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I repeat. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Chelsea. So fucking much. I’m so glad I’ll get to ride this ride called Life with you forever.”
THE END.
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