Page 121 of The Lottery

I nod. “Billionaire vodka. The last bottle. Ridiculous. Overpriced. But the best vodka on any planet.”

I pour three glasses and hand them out, then raise my glass as my daughter raises a fist in the air and gurgles. It fills me with joy knowing Tilly–named after Azalea’s grandmother–will have such a doting family to grow up in..

“Za nashu druzhby,” I say. “To our friendship.”

* * *

ZAE

The day is chilly but sunny for our wedding by the ocean. The sun is high in the clear blue sky.

The community came together to set up a space where we could exchange vows and celebrate, and I’m awed by how beautiful it all looks.

Vines and flowers made of silk are draped, lattice-like, around a wooden arch on the beach. Candles are placed down three aisles.

Mismatched chairs decorated with more silk flowers are lined in four rows.

Marek and I decided to both walk down the aisle, from different directions, and meet in the center where Elspeth will marry us.

We wanted to create a new tradition–the something new–for our new life here.

I take a moment to find the cherry tree Marek and I planted a year ago. It’s still such a small thing, sprouting the tiniest of leaves, but the roots are strong, bearing the hopes and dreams of generations. I carve a notch into the trunk, marking the occasion, and whisper a small prayer to grandma, imagining her watching over me and my family.

A violin begins to play.

It is time.

Lana and Astrid stand at the arch.

I walk down the aisle, and when I see Marek, walking across from me, wearing dark slacks and a charcoal shirt, his dimpled chin deepens with his brilliant smile.

My pace quickens along with my pulse.

I force myself to slow down, to match my walk with the music.

But all I can think about is him.

Being with him.

Being his forever.

We reach the center and Marek takes my hands.

My eyes lock with his as Elspeth begins to speak.

* * *

MAREK

She is everything I could ever want, all I desire. A vision of ethereal beauty walking toward me.

When we are close enough, I take her hands in mine, needing to feel her, to touch her.

I cannot look away from her brilliant blue eyes.

Elspeth begins to talk… about how Azalea and I found love in the most inexplicable of conditions. About how we are a light–a beacon of hope–for what life can be like here.

Her words are powerful. They are our story. But it is hard to focus on anything but Azalea.

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