Page 73 of Shy Girl
In other words, he was the ugliest bride ever.
Ahead waited Grady, his back to us. A sleek tuxedo fitted all the way to his wrists and made his shoulders as wide as a refrigerator. The photographer had been talking to Grady, but she stopped and stared at us as we approached. Her lips rolled together to school a laugh. After Grady said something to her, I thought I heard her say, “Oh, don't worry. You willneverforget this moment.”
Grady expected to see lovely Helene, dolled up with all the thousands of dollars that her father could throw at a team, waiting for him.
And he'd getus.
Vikram slowed, half-turned to give us a thumbs up, and faced Grady again. The photographer swallowed hard as she turned to Grady, camera up and at the ready. Her lips twitched.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
A body moved behind the photographer, phone raised to record as a video. Tyrone, Grady's cousin. He kept his expression even, but the hilarity already rang in his eyes. Grady opened and closed his hands at his sides, a sure sign he was nervous.
“Can I turn around now?” he asked quietly.
The photographer nodded. “See your . . . bride.”
The word came out a garbled, poorly suppressed giggle. Grady whirled around, expression eager, and then stopped. Vikram held out his arms, a cheap bouquet of twigs and grasses in his hands, and cried, “I do!”
Grady's face fell into a mixture of horror and astonishment. Bastian and I fell to the sand, howling.
“What the hell?” Grady cried.
Vikram threw his arms around Grady's neck and tried to get Grady to carry him. “Marry me, lover boy!”
The photographer snapped away, tears streaming down her face as she laughed. Bastian doubled over while I tried to catch my breath. The expression on Grady's face slipped away from confusion and into a wary amusement.
“Grady, man.” I wiped tears off my cheeks. “Your face.”
A slow smile worked through his terror at seeing Vikram half-naked, his hairy legs sticking out of the skirt which was a foot too short. Grady started to laugh and the rolling, reverberating sound didn't stop. It grew in intensity until he struggled to stay upright.
Bastian hooted. “That was worth the entire trip alone. I can't believe that was so worth it. Grady. You're a mess.”
“So dumb,” Grady cried, but slapped Vikram on the shoulder as he wiped tears out of his eyes. “So dumb.”
Movement shuffled behind Grady, but he was too distracted to hear the whispers of sound. I struggled back to my feet, my sides aching, and clapped Grady on the shoulder to keep his attention on me. While a vision in white appeared from around a fence, I kept my hand on him and sobered.
“You got this, my friend.” I gave him a big smile. “She was made for you.”
Grady's smile dropped into question, then his lips rounded into an O. I motioned with a nod behind him, where Helene now stood in an ivory-colored gown, her shiny hair swept away from her face and lips bright red.
“She's there?” he murmured.
I nodded. “Good luck, brother.”
Grady hesitated, gave me a nod, then turned. The photographer crouched down, then snapped a picture the moment Grady's face went slack and he registered Helene standing there. Her dress cascaded to the sand in a waterfall of white, brightening tanned skin and eyes that sparkled with tears.
Grady's lips dropped open, his brow grew heavy, and his eyes began to shine. He lifted a hand to his eyes.
“That's my wife,” he whispered.
Helene beamed, one hand held out. A sparkling, diamond bracelet clasped her wrist.
“That's your wife.” I shoved him toward her. “Now go get her, you Merry Idiot, before I take her away.”
A text chimed on my phone half an hour later as I walked through the hotel foyer, my part of the wedding photos finished. One hour until the official ceremony, and I still had to finish my Best Man speech. That would come. I'd figure out something on the fly.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, then grinned as I read the message.
