Poughkeepsie (58 page)

Kyle gave him a pretend glare.

Livia patted her sister’s shoulder. “It’s true. You’re being a bitch.”

Kyle threw the floral catalog at her as she headed downstairs.

47

Kyle’s Joy

T
HE
M
ORNING
O
F
T
HE
W
EDDING
was a cold January Wednesday, which made no sense to anyone except those in the wedding party. Midnight mass would be even more special this week. The residents of the retirement community were deep into the preparations and had turned out to be wonderful coordinators. Many of them had sons, daughters, and grandchildren who were willing to provide services or help out.

Kyle still had not shown a single soul her wedding dress, and Livia was a little worried. Would fashion-forward Kyle strike a pose in some crazed, super sexy version of a runway gown? Offering no clue at all, Kyle did her makeup and hair at home wearing a baggy sweatsuit. Livia was also coiffed—and dressed—long before the sunset. Kyle insisted on doing Livia’s hair early, and it looked wonderful, but the curls were crispy to the touch. After dinner, the girls and their contrasting ensembles piled into Livia’s Escort for the ride to the church. Kyle had at least said she was planning to change into her dress there.

When Livia parked in the church lot, the slow-moving caterpillar of angels from next door was already swinging and rocking the way forward to the church. Livia and Kyle blew kisses and curtseyed to the clapping that ensued when the seniors spotted them. Wednesday night seemed to be celebrating its unconventional use for a wedding. The stars blinked like Christmas lights and wintry air smelled of crisp snow—although thankfully the weather had stayed clear, eliminating the need for a whole lot of shoveling. The trees were stark and bare now, outlined against the night sky.

Loaded down with cardboard boxes of flowers and a garment bag holding Kyle’s dress, the girls made their way inside. Once they’d deposited their goods, Kyle requested to dress in private, so Livia led her sister to the “crying room” at the back of the sanctuary. Livia closed the curtain over the wide glass window that separated the room from the rest of the congregation, then closed the door quietly behind her. Her sister would don her mysterious dress in a space that usually kept noisy babies from disrupting a worshiping crowd.

With Kyle tucked away, Livia began her inspection. The pews had little bouquets of lilies tied with gossamer slips of fabric that connected each one to the other—like a train, Livia instantly thought. The candles flickered, and the wood shone from the Pew Crew’s tireless ministrations.

Blake pushed open the door by the altar. His rented tuxedo was crisp, the bow tie perfectly straight. Livia stopped and let the sight of him evaporate her common sense.

When his eyes found hers, he placed a hand over his heart, as if it might stop again. “You are so lovely,” he said.

Livia wrinkled her nose and blew him a kiss. Cole poked his head through the door as well and ruffled his brother’s hair.

When he spotted Livia, he hollered, “Is she here?”

Livia nodded but kept her eyes on Blake. Cole, usually calm, now seemed to be bouncing like a rabbit and dragged Blake back through the door. The guests had started to trickle in, and Livia knew it was time to help Kyle. She knocked on the door that sequestered her sister. She waited and knocked again. Nothing.

“Kyle, enough with the secrecy. I’m coming in.” Livia opened the door, entered the room, and shut the door in one spinning motion so no one else would see in.

Livia turned to face her sister, who was admiring her reflection in a framed full-length mirror. Kyle smoothed a short blue dress.

“It’s time to get dressed. Can I help? Is the dress very complicated?” Livia stepped forward so she too was reflected in the mirror.

Kyle bit her lip and looked at Livia in the mirror. “This is my wedding dress.”

Livia raised her eyebrow and waited for some explanation. This was the dress Kyle had picked for
her
to wear on the night of the revenge partying. It seemed an odd choice.

“I was going to wear this dress when Mom came back,” Kyle finally said. She ironed the material again with her hands.

“Kyle, Mom’s not coming back. She’s not going to show up here today. I’m sorry.” Livia rested a tentative hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“I know. I know she’s not coming. But I’m going to wear this dress to start my life with Cole. I’m this person now.” Kyle clenched her fists.

“Wait. What?” Livia turned her sister to face her. “The dress doesn’t change who you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride, but you’ve always been this person. It’s not that you didn’t earn a mother, it’s that Mom didn’t earn you.” Livia waited until Kyle looked her in the eyes. “Do you understand that?”

Kyle nodded. “Thanks, Liv. You look great too.”

Livia smiled and busied herself with the bridal accessories. “Well, that dress gets a lot of things out of the way.” She lifted Kyle’s headdress of fresh flowers from its box. There was no veil.

Kyle gave her a questioning look as she clipped the blossoms in place.

“Something old: the dress. Something new: your attitude. Something borrowed: I’m pretty sure you got those earrings from my jewelry box.”

Kyle rolled her eyes.

“Something blue: the dress again. The last thing we need is this.” Livia slipped off her shoe and turned it upside down until a penny fell in her hand. “This bad larry comes pre-warmed.”

Kyle kicked off her high heel, and Livia dropped the copper piece into the shoe. There was loud knock on the door.

“Ladies, I believe I have a job to do.”

Their father’s gruff voice made them smile. “Come in,” they said in stereo, like they had when they were kids.

Livia watched her father’s policeman’s entrance, as if a room that held chirping girls was harder to face than an armed robber. He gave each of them a nervous smile and said nothing about Kyle’s unconventional dress. Perhaps her delicate beauty or the emotion of his little girl getting married blinded him, but Livia had a feeling her dad just knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Livia patted his shoulder. “It’s time.”

The bells in the steeple began to reverberate through the very foundation of the church. They wouldn’t normally ring them so late at night, not wanting to disturb the neighborhood, but tonight was special. Twelve full-bodied tones notified the town that something spectacular was about to happen.

Livia dared to peek out of the crying room and into the foyer of the church. It was empty. She nodded at her sister and waved her little family out of the room. Her father waited with an awkward arm crooked for Kyle’s hand.

The first strains of organ music filled the church.

Blake.
His playing brought Livia a wide, warm smile. The music was supposed to be reverent. It was supposed to slow the world down for prayer. But Blake infused hope in his music. Love was the only song he knew how to play.

Livia faced the crowd. She commenced her slow, practiced step-together-step march. She felt like she was onstage without knowing her lines. All eyes were on her, and really, she just wanted to crane her neck to see Blake’s hands on the organ.

She focused on smiling at the guests as she passed. Dear Bea gave her a wink, and Eve stood on Ted’s right, looking effortlessly exquisite in a black A-line gown. She seemed to tip her sparkling hummingbird brooch toward Livia as she passed. And there was Nurse Susan, looking beautiful in a silvery dress, rather than her usual scrubs.

As Livia finally completed her journey, Blake switched to Mendelssohn’s traditional wedding march. Cole came through the altar door and assumed his spot next to Father Callahan. He nodded at Livia and watched the door where Kyle was about to make her appearance.

The door swung open, and Kyle and her father stepped into the archway. Livia heard a gasp from the crowd. In the middle of a classic church wedding, Kyle’s blue dress was shocking, simple, and entirely casual. But one look at the bride’s face should have obliterated any other considerations. Her smile was unadulterated joy. She almost hopped between steps. Her father looked pained and proud as he walked her down the aisle.

When Kyle was finally firmly in front of the groom, John held out his hand. As Cole shook it, the men had the most important conversation in the world without saying a word.

John stooped to give Kyle a kiss on the cheek. Kyle held her hand out to Cole, and for a brief moment their hands didn’t touch. The tiny sliver of air between their palms seemed to contain the energy of an entire universe. But when his hand eclipsed hers, instead of an explosion, there was only calm. Only peace.

Livia set down her flowers and scurried over to the spiral staircase and up to the organ. As Blake put the finishing touches on the march, Livia lifted her long skirt and ascended the stairs. Blake nodded at the newly appointed, and seemingly rather nervous, church organist and motioned to the bench for the changing of the guard.

With his shaky replacement in position and continuing to produce sound from the organ, Blake turned to descend the stairs and join the wedding. His eyes widened when he found Livia waiting, still holding her dress out of the way of her feet. She motioned for him to join her as she began walking backward down the stairs. Blake had been doing well for the past month, but he still became winded and a bit dizzy at times. Livia was taking no chances.

He looked amused as he placed his shiny dress shoes on each stair as she vacated it. The church organist slammed her way into a little improv, providing some filler so Blake could get to the altar. Livia looked at Blake and tried not to burst out laughing.

“What exactly, my love, do you think you’re doing?” Blake looked down at her.

“These stairs make me nervous. I just wanted to make sure you got down them okay.” Livia felt silly now. He was obviously fine. Their slow spiraling dance actually made her a little dizzy instead.

“And if I trip like the delicate flower that I am?” Blake asked, drawing near.

“I was hoping I would break your fall, if you fell…which you won’t.” Livia stepped backward again. The edge of her train caught under her heel, and her careful steps stuttered.

Blake reacted swiftly, grabbing her around the waist and righting her balance in one smooth swoop. He held her close and used the railing to keep them steady.

“Oh. Damn.” Livia pressed against his chest as she caught her breath. Instead of keeping him safe she was about to break both their necks. The organist decided to drop some vocals on the captive crowd.

Blake stilled even though they should have been rushing at this point; everyone was waiting. “Livia, I’m going to be okay. You have to believe it.”

The nape of his neck was just inches from her lips. The only things stopping her from tasting it were red lipstick and one hundred pairs of eyes.

“I’ve always believed it.” Livia tilted her head so she could see him.

Blake held his lips close to hers. They were lost in each other until Kyle had enough.

“Get the hell down here!” the bride shouted. “You’re stealing my thunder.”

Livia could hear Bea’s distinct laugh over the organist’s shrill rendition of “Closer My God to Thee.” Blake transported Livia back to her spot next to Kyle, and Kyle slapped Blake’s shoulder in greeting. Cole and Blake executed a subtle tattoo touch.

The wedding proceeded, and the ceremony never veered from the time-honored, familiar words. The well-practiced clergyman rarely consulted his prayer book. His homily was filled wonderful advice about patience and listening to one another. When it was time for the promises in front of God, Cole repeated his vows in a voice well-practiced at filling the whole room. Kyle’s words were quiet, small, and for his ears alone. They exchanged shiny new wedding bands.

Communion took forever, and the guests chatted quietly as everyone was served the sacrament. Cole and Kyle looked anxious and wildly in love.

Blake held out a hand to Livia, who felt like she was cheating on an exam as she took it.

“I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered. “The candlelight, the dress, the curls.” He pressed a reverent kiss on her forehead.

Livia inhaled his cologne. Maybe he’d borrowed Cole’s, and the warm scent made Blake a present begging to be opened.

By the time Father Callahan had concluded his work, he had to hold up a hand to quiet the crowd. “I do believe we have a bit more business to attend to.”

After a gentle round of snickers, quiet blanketed the church.

The crowd knew what was next, and although there was no sound, the anticipation itself was shouting.

“I present Mr. and Mrs. Cole Bridge. You may kiss the bride.” Father Callahan gave Cole a nod of approval.

Cole faced Kyle and wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her off her feet and closer to his face. Livia and Blake were the only ones close enough to hear Cole’s private vows.

He kissed her once, gently and almost chastely. “For our past.”