Epilogue
Chanel
“You’re not about to throw up, are you?”
I side-eyed Gabby, who looked at me suspiciously. “I knew I shoulda made you wear that ugly pink taffeta dress as my maid of honor,” I hissed at her.
She waved me off as she strutted to me in her short, light pink robe, her hair in rollers. “You wouldn’t have done that since you don’t want your wedding photos to come out hideous. You’re not that petty. But why are you looking so despondent? Look, if you wanna pull a runaway bride, just tell me, and we can blow this joint. Or do you want to wait until you’re walking down the aisle and then pull a dramatic exit?”
I laughed at her jokes. “I’d never do that.”
“Good, ’cause I’m sure your future husband has this place pretty secured. That man hired the damn top-flight security to make sure he locks you down.”
Another round of giggles spilled from my mouth. Gabby could always make me feel better. No matter the circumstances—like, say you’re only a few hours from walking down the aisle to get married, and you still haven’t finished writing your wedding vows.
“Good. You look more relaxed. I thought you were about to have a round of throwing up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t remind me,” I stated, placing my hand over my swollen belly and sitting on the bed in the room we’d rented for my bridesmaids and me to get ready.
Our wedding and reception was being held at Ashton Gardens. For weeks after I first found out I was pregnant, I continued to throw up constantly, having to be sent home from work. I finally told my dad and Jason the reason why I was so sick. Surprisingly, they both were ecstatic. I think the multi-karat ring on my finger and Xavier’s promise to make me his wife before these children were born aided their excitement.
Thankfully, they agreed to a work-from-home schedule until I felt better. A couple of times my sickness got so bad, I had to be taken to the E.R. and intravenously given fluids due to dehydration. That’s when I was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum. When the symptoms persisted past my first trimester, my doctor recommended a few diet alterations, but nothing helped until she prescribed what I called a wonder drug. Gabby, thanks to her doula classes, had heard of it and told me about the medicine, and I brought it up to Dr. Simmons, who said it was a last resort, but we tried it. I had to take it every night at the same time, but thank God it worked. I was in my sixth month and had regained the twelve pounds I’d initially lost.
“I haven’t finished writing my vows,” I confessed.
“What!?” Gabby shrieked. “You’re getting married in three hours. Why haven’t you finished your vows?”
“I don’t know. I have some sort of mental block. Everything’s been happening so fast and between being sick, trying to regain my energy, planning a wedding from bed, working, and being excited over the babies… I just forgot about my vows—well, not forgot, but kept pushing it off.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down,” Gabby stood in front of me, taking my hands into hers. “Deep inhale. Hold it. And release.”
I did as she instructed, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. Gabby meditated regularly and had always tried to get me into it.
“This is good practice for when you give birth too.”
I groaned.
“Okay, we’ll discuss that at another time. Take another deep breath. Now, think about how much you love Xavier, what do you feel? Don’t answer out loud, just think. Why are you excited to share your life with this man? The many months you’ve been with him, what have you learned? What do you want to continue to learn? Begin your vows there. Open your eyes.”
Slowly, I blinked my eyes open.
“Now, go write your vows. I’m going to give you a few minutes. Tori and Marjorie will be here soon.”
I watched Gabby exit through the door, then went and grabbed a piece of notepaper from the nightstand in between the beds. I wrote down the words as they came to mind, no thinking, just writing. When I finished, I read over my vows, smiling at one of my favorite quotes from Toni Morrison. I began to feel the calmest I’d felt all day.
The next couple of hours were a blur of makeup, hairstyling, talking, and laughing with the women in my life. I remember the day I told Tori I was having twins like her, and she laughed, saying they must run in the family. When she asked what they were, I told her I didn’t know because I wanted to wait until I had them to find out their sexes. My husband-to-be wasn’t having that, so he knew the sexes of the babies, but he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, including Jason or me. He’d been good about it, but we still had over three months to go. Gabby swore it was a boy and a girl. All I knew from the ultrasound was that the twins were fraternal.
“You look so beautiful,” Marjorie smiled through teary eyes.
I stood in the mirror, gazing at myself in my cream-colored Vera Wang, off-the-shoulder wedding gown. The top half of the bodice was corset style, but the bottom half flared out, accompanied by layers of lace and silk. My hair was pulled back into a low bun, pinned at the nape of my neck with a few tendrils framing my face. A long veil was pinned at the crown of my head and fell all the way down to the floor.
“Thank you,” I answered.
“Your father wanted to give you something. He’s outside.” She inclined her head towards the hotel room door.
I looked at her before moving to the door. When I opened it, there stood my handsome father in his three-piece black and white tuxedo that matched the one Xavier and his groomsmen were wearing. His eyes watered as he looked at me from head to toe. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.
“You look so much like your mother. You’re stunning.”
“My makeup artist is going to be pissed,” I laughed, wiping a tear from my cheek.
“I wanted to give these to you.”
I looked down to find a pair of pearl earrings in his outstretched hand.
“These were your mother’s. She made me promise not to give them to you until you were married.”
My head popped up to stare at him.
“She wrote it out in her will a few months before she died,” he answered my unasked question.
“I-I have to change the earrings.” That was all I could think to say. Shakily, my hands rose to change the diamond earrings I had on for my mother’s. Thankfully, I’d brought my mother’s pearl necklace as an option to wear. I asked my father to hold on while I went and retrieved the necklace.
“Can you put this on me?”
“Absolutely.”
I turned, letting him secure the necklace around my neck, before turning back to him. Tears glistened in his eyes.
“Let’s get you married.”
I nodded at my father. “Let’s.”
****
Xavier
A vision.
My knees almost buckled as the doors of the venue opened, and I saw Chanel in her wedding dress for the first time, on the arm of her father. There were no words to describe how I felt. Happy? Content? Whole? All of them felt too shallow to describe the pure joy I felt watching the three most important people in my world walking towards me: my wife and the two baby boys she was carrying.
Yup, we’re having two boys. There was absolutely no way I was going to wait until they were born to find out what we were having. I was going to be the father of two boys, who I’d raise to become men , with my wife at my side.
Chanel’s eyes locked on me as she took her first steps down the aisle. I stood up even straighter, puffed my chest out a little more , and when she got close enough, I held out my hand to take hers from Elliott.
“Who gives this woman away?”
Elliott looked to Chanel. “I do.”
He looked at me and nodded before placing Chanel’s hand in mine. I remembered the argument Chanel and I had at the mention of this part of the ceremony. She’d insisted it was a sexist tradition. I conceded that part, but finally got her to cave in when I told her how much Elliott wanted to be part of the day.
When she came to stand in front of me, no one else existed. We both recited the words of the pastor, and then came the part where we shared our handwritten vows. I went first.
“Chanel, I’m not often big on words, mostly gestures. So, I won’t take up too much of our ceremony with my ramblings on how I love you and dedicate my life to you and our children,” I paused to place my hand on her belly. A collective sigh went around the room. “I will say that I promise to protect you and your heart in every way until my last breath. I promise to give you the world on a platter, or at least bust my ass trying. Sorry, pastor.” I gave him a sideways smile.
Our guests laughed.
“Thank you for agreeing to be my wife and the mother of my children. I love you with everything in me.” I leaned down to kiss her lips.
“We haven’t reached that part yet,” the pastor interjected.
I gave him another sideways glance, but this one was less friendly.
Chanel cleared her throat.
“Chanel, your turn.”
“Thank you.” She turned to me. “Xavier, I remember the first time I met you when I was just twelve years old, and you were seventeen. You were larger than life, even then. Anyone who was around you for any period couldn’t help but recognize you were going to take over the world someday. What I didn’t know is that you’d take over my heart with the same fervor and tenacity as you did everything else. I almost let my fears and insecurities run off the best thing that ever happened to me, but you knew better. You were so much braver than I was, even when you had to confront your own fears. Thank you for loving me past everything. Thank you for challenging me to be a better woman. Thank you for taking care of my heart.” She paused.
I reached out to wipe the tears away from her cheeks.
“I once told my best friend that falling in love and being swept off your feet was dangerous because it placed you in the perfect position to be dropped on your ass. Sorry, pastor.” Her eyes darted to the pastor.
Another round of laughter.
“But I was wrong. To quote my favorite author, Toni Morrison, I didn’t fall in love, I rose in it. I am better because of you. I will be a better mother because of you. I promise to protect your heart and our children with just as much fervor as you do.”
“I told you all, she’s better with words than I am,” I said out to the crowd of family and friends.
A round of sighs and awws sounded off this time.
I pulled Chanel into me, smushing the bouquet of white lilies she held.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Our lips pressed together to seal the deal.
“Congratulations, Mr. Grant.”
“Right back at you, Mrs. Grant.”
Another kiss just because, and then we turned toward the people who’d come to celebrate our nuptials, hands clasped, holding them up in celebration. I held onto Chanel’s hand as we made our way down the aisle to start our new life.
The End