THIRTY-THREE
Nikki
Two Months Later
“You are the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes glistening, Trace wraps me in a tight hug. “You’re like a nineteen forties Hollywood goddess.”
“Thanks.” We exchange cheek kisses. “You’re next, skater girl.”
“We’ll see.” The mischievous gleam in her eyes tells me this isn’t the first time the subject of her and Dak getting married has come up. “I’m beyond happy for you guys, Nik. And Chloe is so perfect and beautiful. By the way, I totally knew she was Dalt’s when I saw your drawings. She’s like his Mini Me.”
“Is that so? And yet you didn’t say one word. It’s not like the Tracey I know to keep her opinions to herself, especially when she knows she’s right.” I smirk at my sweet best friend.
“Okay, I didn’t know.” She shrugs and flips a piece of my waved hair behind my shoulder. “But my little Godbaby is still the most beautiful baby on the planet.”
When Dalt and I asked Dak and Tracey to be Chloe’s Godparents, I don’t think Tracey stopped squealing in glee for a full week.
Trace walks behind me and bends to straighten the train of my fitted Vera Wang wedding dress. Standing, she primps the draped silk piece which wraps around my hips and gathers at the bottom of the deep cut out opening at the base of my spine.
She sighs. “You’re perfect.”
I had no intention of buying the ridiculously expensive vintage gown when I found it online. I was merely trying to find someone who could match the style in a knockoff version of the V-neck trumpet silhouette silk dress. I knew the antique beaded straps were going to be impossible to copy but I figured I could find something to make it work.
I made the mistake of letting Dalt come with me to the dressmaker. When he realized what I was trying to do, he insisted the only dress I should have was the original. He made some panty melting remark like, “You’re my one of a kind, totally original, beautiful girl and you should have a one of a kind original dress.” When I pointed out the absurd price, he reiterated the money is no object speech. Two days later the dress showed up on my doorstep, Fed Ex delivery. Seriously. Is he the perfect man or what? Now here I am, all Vera Wanged out in my figure hugging white silk gown.
There’s barely any limp to my gait as I walk holding onto Matt’s arm toward the gazebo set on the banks of our lake. Chloe, Tracey, and Alex are in front of us. Chloe looks like a living doll in her A-line, tea length, mini Vera Wang, peach color dress. It has a satin scoop neck top with a matching sash tied around the waist into a large bow, and of course several layers of full tulle on the bottom. Tracey has to bend down every few steps and remind Chloe to keep throwing rose petals from her basket because Chloe is too busy spinning in her new ballerina dress to remember.
Tracey is exquisite in her peach Vera Wang strapless, chiffon column dress; not vintage but every bit as stunning. My mom made me promise I wouldn’t pick any “atrocious Goth color like purple or black for a maid of honor dress.” Her exact words. I had no intention of picking a so-called Goth color for the dress, but I love her like crazy so I let her believe the peach chiffon was her idea.
The day couldn’t be more picture-perfect. The sky is the color blue an artist would use to paint a crystal-clear horizon on a June day. In fact, as I gaze across the setting in front of me, I’d say the whole scene might have been the inspiration for a Monet painting if he lived in Maine: pink water lilies floating on the lake, purple and yellow irises along the bank, and summer wildflowers popping up throughout the fields. The warm breeze blowing across the grassy fields is a comfortable seventy-five degrees. The cooing of the white winged doves in the trees is a hymn added to the romantic harp and violin version of “Perfect” being played as we walk toward the gazebo on the edge of the lake. It’s the same song Dalt and I danced to the night we knew we belonged together. Even the swans in the pond, swimming in pairs in and out of the water cascading from the newly added center fountain, are demonstrating their lifelong commitment to one partner. It’s their contribution to complete the picturesque setting of a day filled with promises of forever, a day of giving our hearts surrounded by a setting which truly speaks to our hearts.
I’m exceedingly grateful for everything Dalt has done to make this day a beautiful beginning to the rest of our lives. I still don’t know how he managed to get a crew of men to spend mere weeks to renovate the thirty by forty-foot barn on our farm and transform it into something right off the pages of Architectural Digest. The barn hadn’t been used for decades. But since I was still going through rehab and wasn’t able to travel, Dalt saw the antique structure and somehow envisioned it into what it is now.
After talking it over with my mom and Matt, the construction began. Dalt filmed the progression of steps it required to take the barn apart, clean the antique white oak wood, and put the mortise and tenons back together in an elegant configuration perfect for weddings or parties. The architect Dalt hired succeeded in keeping the rustic quality of a classic New England barn, complete with hand hewn timbers and rustic railings running the length of the balconies on either side of the thirty-foot-high building. The old wood plank floors were refinished to a high gloss shine. Hanging down the center of the expanse are four three-foot wide crystal chandeliers. On each vertical timber lining either side of the room, electrified double candle sconces glow. Overhead, tiny twinkling white lights covering the exposed beams give the ambience of a wedding space fit for a fairy woodland prince and princess.
When construction was complete, Dalt made me close my eyes as he walked me through the doors of the barn for the first time. When I opened my eyes, I gasped at the breathtaking transformation. I could feel the history of the building, but even more than that I could feel the passion and artistry Dalt and the crew working on the building had put into it.
Later, when they were ready to set up for the wedding, Dalt left the interior decorating of table settings and flowers up to Tracey and Alex. The long tables with crisp white linens mixed with touches of peach and the giant arrangements of wildflowers down the centers of the tables completes the perfect backdrop for a perfect wedding.
Needless to say, when Dalt posted pictures of the completed project on social media, inquiries came flooding in for people wanting to rent the venue for their event. Apparently, Dalt, Matt, and my mom have embarked on a new business together. Matt and Dalt have excitedly been planning the other additions they want to make to create the complete wedding venue package. I’m happy to say this new venture with Dalt eventually being an absent but financial backer has brought him and Matt closer. Matt doesn’t growl anymore when he sees Dalt, which is a good thing.
Gazing around at the picturesque setting in front of me, seeing our family and friends beaming with love and happiness for us, the whole day is like a beautiful dream. But it’s not. It’s real. I’m here.
I walk toward the flower-covered gazebo where Dalt is waiting for me. Garrett and Dak are next to him. Although they’re all handsome in their black tail coat three-piece morning suits with peach color vests and ties, Dalt is easily the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in his perfectly tailored suit. Garrett leans in and whispers something to Dalt. When he looks up and sees me, his ear to ear smile lights up his face. And when his beautiful blue eyes lock with mine, my heart beats in double-time. I can’t believe he’s mine. I can’t believe I get to marry him.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode. I return his smile and think about how much our connection to each other has changed in the few years we’ve been together. Prior to his father’s meddling our relationship had been lighthearted and youthful, everything young love should be. Enjoying each other without a care in the world other than studying together for our next big test, wrapped in each other’s arms. Or training together to be in shape for our respective teams. Things are different now. We aren’t much older, but in those few years we’ve matured, and our relationship has done the same, ripened into something…more. We’re in love. Truly, deeply in love.
My smile widens when I think about Dalt getting down on one knee during one of my physical therapy sessions to ask me to marry him. Only Dalt could make the sterile setting the most romantic place in the world for a proposal.
He looked up at me from his kneeling position and said, “Nik, I knew you were my soulmate the first day I laid eyes on you covered in mud, running up and down the soccer field. I knew it the night you jumped off a table into my arms and sang out of tune to me in the car. I knew it every time you managed to trick me into moving in the wrong direction to dive for the soccer ball. I knew it every time I heard you yell at me from the stands for doing something stupid on the ice or cheer louder than anyone else in the arena when I did good. Every time you used one of your crazy nicknames for a certain one of my body parts, I knew you were the only woman who could keep me smiling for the rest of my life. And when I found out you gave me Chloe, the greatest gift of my life, I may not have told you right away but I knew the only thing I wanted was for all of us to be together, forever. I know I’ve been a dumbass more times than I can count and I know I don’t deserve you, but please marry me, Nik. You’re the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You’re the love of my life.”
It couldn’t have been more romantic than if we were sailing in a gondola down the canals of Venice or standing in a flower garden in Paris. When he reached up to offer me the open velvet box holding a ring with a diamond the size of a mini soccer ball, I managed to slowly bend my leg to drop to my knees, kiss him with every ounce of love I had in me, and tell him, “You had me at ‘soulmate.’”
Now, as I stand next to him, in front of Father Morley, Dalt leans in and whispers, “I’m the luckiest man alive. You look like an angel. But as beautiful as that dress is, I can’t wait to see it on the floor around your ankles.” He waggles his brow. My face warms to the color of Dalt’s vest when I glance up and see Father Morley flipping through pages of his bible, trying his best to pretend he didn’t hear what Dalt said.
Before I can respond Dalt scoops Chloe up in his arms and tells her how much he loves her.
She strokes his face and says, “Butterfy tis, Dada.”
When Dalt tickles her cheek with butterfly kisses and she giggles, I know the truth. I’m the lucky one.