Page 68 of The Problem with Falling
We all headed to the front of the archway I’d made, covered in flowers that Jensen decorated for the ceremony. Willow stood on Grandma’s right as Peter and I stood on PaPa’s left.
Peter’s father was the officiant for the celebration, and when it came time for my grandparents’ vows, I was almost certain there wasn’t a dry eye in all of Westin Lake.
Grandma requested a wooden chair to sit on, so when she spoke her vows, she’d be at eye level with PaPa.
At that moment, they were transported back to their youth. They weren’t facing their current issues. They weren’t worried about tomorrow or what would come.No.They were just two dumb kids falling in love for the first time, promising one another forever.
Grandma reached out and took PaPa’s hands in hers.
Her vows came first. “My Harry, my love, my friend. The past sixty years have not only been the most colorful years of my life but they have also been the most joyful times. Before you, I was convinced I was too much. Too loud. Too wild. Too unpredictable. Too bright. Just too much. Then I met you on the back of my father’s fishing dock, and you said I was just the perfect dose of everything. You never asked me to change; you never requested that I dull my color. You found me wild and still left me free. If I could tell anyone a love story, it would begin and end with you. My life was empty before you stepped into it. And you brought me the greatest days of my life. My heart is always yours to keep. Thank you for keeping it safe. Thank you for loving my wild. And I promise you, no matter how close we come to a goodbye in this realm, I’ll find you again on the other side,” Grandma said before placing a homemade colorful bracelet around PaPa’s wrist, the sign of her renewed vows.
That got me slightly choked up.
Then it was PaPa’s turn. “My favorite artist, my greatest love. Molly Rae Langford, my world was a blank canvas before you spun into it. And spun, you did. If I remember correctly, I was on that dock, saving you from almost falling in. When I caught your arm, you told me you were too busy counting the stars.” At that moment, I understood why Grandma and Willow were friends—they were both obsessed with the night sky, almost injuring themselves from looking up toward the moon and stars. PaPa continued, “Ever since then, you’ve made everything brighter. Before you, my world was black and white. Your presence has enhanced my entire existence. Because of you, I see the world in a different way. I am more in touch with myself because you’ve taught me what it means to be unselfishly oneself. Over these past sixty years, you have been my rainbow. It has been my greatest privilege to be loved by you, and my greatest honor has been to love you back. And even as we get older, just know I stillmean what I said on our wedding day many moons ago: Forever, Molly Rae. In this lifetime and the next, forever. I’ll always meet you on the dock.”
I was choking on a sob that I swallowed down from PaPa’s vows. As I looked up, I caught Willow’s eyes on me. Tears streamed down her face because it was my Weeping Willow. The girl who cried over any and everything. She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Lately, she’d been dragging those out of me.
Wait, rewind.
What did I think before?
MyWeeping Willow?
I meant myfriendWeeping Willow.
We were friends.
Nothing more, nothing less.
She bashfully looked away, and I missed her stare the moment she stole it from me.
I’d have to lie to myself and pretend I hadn’t, though.
“Everyone’s having a great time.”Willow beamed as she sat down at the table I’d been stationed at since dinner was served. There were people scattered all around my property, some laughing by the dock, others signing the colorful souvenir bench that Grandma would place in the middle of her garden as a memory piece. Yet most people were on the dance floor, moving as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
I turned toward Willow, then looked back out at the crowd. It was hard for me to stare at her for long periods of time. My mind became too jumbled. “People love my grandparents.”
“They are very lovable.”
I could feel her smile. My hands grew sweaty, and I rubbed them against my legs. “Shouldn’t you be on the dance floor yourself?”
“I’ll need a dance partner first.”
At the hopeful stare in her eyes, I parted my mouth to tell her how there was no chance in hell she’d see me on that dance floor tonight, but another voice spoke on my behalf before I could get one syllable out.
“My cousin doesn’t dance,” Peter said, walking over with a glass of whiskey. It was clear he’d been drinking and was plastered out of his mind. I wasn’t trying to judge him as most people at the party were drunk off their asses. But Peter became fifty times more annoying whenever he drank. His already unfiltered mouth only became more absurd.
Peter held his hand out toward Willow. “But I do. Besides, I think I owe you an apology still.”
Willow shifted slightly in her seat; her discomfort was apparent.
I swallowed hard, choking down some of my own pride, then stood. I held my hand out toward Willow. “Shall we?”
Her doe eyes widened with surprise. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, almost as if asking if I was serious.
I nodded.
It was funny how we could communicate without words.
