Page 108 of The Accidental Honeymoon

Leaving the house on Wildflower Lane, we walk side by side for the four blocks to the clerk’s office. As we hit the tiled courthouse floors, I’m grateful for my Converse sneakers. Today’s pair is cream, with little chartreuse hearts that match my bouquet.

The clerk, a no-nonsense older woman with glasses perched on the end of her nose, types something into her computer. She looks up and smiles. “May I help you?”

“We’re here to file the paperwork to change my name to Calanthe Rustin.” I make a face. “It’s kind of a long story, but we actually already married. Today, we’re having the official ceremony.”

“Congratulations, you two. This is abig step.”

“Thanks.” Jay slides me a look and takes my hand. “It’s been a long time coming.”

The clerk accepts the paperwork that Jay hands her, then spends the next couple of minutes making sure everything is complete. Then she hands me a piece of paper and a pen. “Just need your signature, Mrs. Rustin.”

Mrs. Rustin. I’m really, officially, going to be Mrs. Rustin. I squeeze Jay’s hand. He bites his lip and gives me an encouraging nod.

I sign the paper with a flourish. It’s funny. For the first time, I really wish that the Alto & Ash camera crew were on hand to film this moment. It feels like a scene directly ripped from a movie.

The clerk takes the paper back and stamps the form. “You’re all set. Have a wonderful life together.”

We step out into the open. It’s blinding out here after the florescent dimness of the courthouse interior. I squint and shade my eyes with the bouquet.

“We did it, Mrs. Rustin.” Jay’s smile is as bright as the afternoon sun. “You’re all mine now. No takebacks.”

“Come here.” I grip his collar and press a kiss to my new husband’s lips. “Itfeelsofficial.”

“It’s forever.” He offers me his arm.

I don’t hesitate before taking it and leaning against his body. I wasn’t part of planning this part of the wedding, so I have only the faintest idea what I’m going to see.

We start walking toward the gazebo. Our footsteps are in sync, as if we’ve done this a thousand times before. Maybe we have, in other lifetimes or other timelines. I like to think that I’d find Jay, or he’d find me, no matter what.

As we draw closer, I see the gazebo is draped in white chiffon. Sunlight filters through the trees and castssoft shadows on the pathway. The whole scene feels delicate, like it might shatter if I breathe too hard.

“Oh Jay.” I touch my heart, staring at the place we woke up as husband and wife. “It looks beautiful.”

He leads me to the center of the gazebo, where a small crowd of friends and family has gathered. Phones are at the ready to capture every moment. I let go of his arm and circle one of the wooden pillars. The chiffon flutters in a gentle breeze.

This isn’t the wedding I would have planned for myself. In fact, I doubt I would’ve insisted on a ceremony at all.

But Jay did this for us. And I absolutely adore it. I also hope that one of the Alto & Ash camera crew is capturing this moment from afar. It’s something I want to remember and cherish over and over again.

It’s odd. I never thought I’d be standing here as the bride. I mean, before I woke up here as the bride. But now that it’s really happening, it seems sort of unreal.

The chaplain asks, “Do you, Jay, take this woman, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” He looks into my eyes and smiles. “I promise to love you until my dying breath. It’ll be my honor.”

“And do you Calla, take this man, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do. I—” I choke up at this point. “I choose you, Jay. Today and always.”

He squeezes my hands, then pulls me into his arms for a passionate kiss before the chaplain can say anything more. A cheer goes up from our gathered family and friends.

“—kiss the bride.”

With the vows complete, the crowd erupts into applause. Jay pulls me into a spontaneous twirl. Our laughter mingles with the cheers. A brass band starts playing the familiar notes of “When the Saints Go Marching In” and several gold-suited dancers begin leading us in a procession arounds the town square. Jay hands me a white silk umbrella and I open it with a grin.

“Ready?” Jay looks at me mischievously. He opens his matching umbrella. All the guests walk behind us, waving white handkerchiefs. We bebop to the beat of the band.

I’m not familiar with the Louisiana-style second line tradition. But Jay is so joyful as we follow the procession that I can’t help but enjoy myself. We are really celebrating getting married this time.

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