Page 123 of Tulips and Lost Time

Jack only snickers like a kid in a candy store, hopped up on sugar and ready to set shit on fire. “You’re super tense, bro. You okay?”

“Shush!” Kit snarls. “Have some respect.”

The organs continue to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The music is slow and sweet, which is the very opposite of everything we, collectively, are. But Britt wears a beaming grin, swaying her hips and radiant in a strapless gown of midnight black that goes all the way to the floor. Her usually straight hair is done half up, half down, with expertly ironed curls that give her extra height. Her lips glisten bright red, and her eyes sparkle a blinding blue. She’s stunning in her happiness. Playful in the way she almost dances along the aisle. Then she turns right instead of left, sneaking a kiss with her husband before she goes the way she’s supposed to and takes up her position on my right.

Pachelbel continues and Laine steps into the doorway, and right beside her, Jess follows, slipping her arm in our sister’s and creating a united front.

They could have walked separately. They could have each had their moment, gliding along the aisle and drawing my torture out as long as possible. But they choose togetherness. Ever since Laine’s run in with her ex, they now choose unity.

And for that, I’m both relieved and thankful.

Nothing good ever comes when they’re apart.

Kane and Ang practically vibrate. Their eyes hanging out of their heads and their smiles giddy and, frankly, gross. But while the girls walk and the guys ogle, I take a moment to prepare myself. To take a deep breath and fill my lungs. To clear my eyes and firm my jaw.

Because fuck me, it quivers a little bit.

Finally, the twins reach our end of the aisle and go to their men first. Completely against protocol, and yet, there isn’t a single part of me that begrudges them for their happiness. They exchange kisses and sweet words, then the girls step away, passing me with smirky grins and trouble in their eyes.

The organs stop, suddenly, shockingly, almost like the power has been cut. But then a recording plays over the speakers instead. The strum of a guitar I would recognize anywhere. The soft melody of a piano. And then Scotch’s deep, gritty singer’s voice.

They’ve taken Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time and slowed it right down, until emotion clogs in my throat and my heart gives a final, painful splat that could be the end of me if not for the beautiful woman who steps through the doors and glows hotter than the sun itself.

“Oh shit.” I press a hand to my thundering heart and groan. “Fuck, Bear.”

“Don’t say fuck in church,” Marc chuckles. Then he claps my shoulder and breaks away from his place on my left. He dashes along the aisle, literally runs, and makes an entire fucking scene I expect to draw a vicious blush to Kari’s cheeks. But when he takes her arm in his instead, she just… she allows it.

“We lied to you about a few shifts at work,” Scotch murmurs, nudging closer now that Marc is missing. “Kari wanted this song, and she wanted us to play it for her.”

I lick my dry lips and watch as the brother-sister duo make their way along the aisle.

“We could have set up our gear and played the set while she walked, but she didn’t want you to be alone up here either. She wanted this day to be as special for you as you want it to be for her, so she had us practice this song and record it for today. So we could still be with you, and so Marc could give her away.”

“She asked Marc to give her away?” I turn my head, breaking my view of her smiling face for just a beat, and meet Scotch’s eyes. “She wanted that?”

“She asked him to give her to you,” Ang inserts. “This isn’t about ownership or giving her up to any random dude. She wanted him to give her to you. No one else will do.”

I bring my hand up and wipe it over my mouth, scratching along the stubble I never truly get rid of, and pray I don’t cry like a bitch on my wedding day. “Wow. That’s…” I draw a heady breath and look back at Kari. Finally, she’s close enough I can actually see her eyes. The pink swelling that says she’s been crying, and the wide grin that assures me she’s okay. “That’s a big deal,” I finish. “I thought she was gonna walk alone.”

“She’s a proud woman,” Kane finishes. “But she’s not so proud as to give all of herself to you.”

“Stop talking,” Marcus snarls from six feet away. “Focus!”

Kari giggles. It’s watery and silly. But it’s happy, and that’s all I ever ask of her.

To be happy.

“You asked for this song?” I step forward, though I’m not sure I’m supposed to, and extend my hand in expectation. “Bear? You wanted them to play this for us?”

“Because I choose you.” She drags her lip between her teeth and releases Marcus’ hand. Taking mine instead, she steps in and stops only when her chest touches mine and my free hand comes up to cup her neck. “I will always choose you. Time after time.”

“Alright!” Jay Bishop clears his throat and increases the volume of his voice until everyone can hear him. Even the fucking cow sitting out at Marc’s house right now. He lifts his arms, like Moses himself parting the red seas, and wears a robe I’m certain he stole from a real priest. Then he looks at me and smirks. “We are all gathered here today to sign some lifetime binding contracts.”

40

LUC

THE AFTERPARTY IS ALWAYS WAY MORE FUN THAN THE ACTUAL WEDDING

---