Rookie Playing For Keeps #Wattys2015 #NewAdult

Chapter 4 Part 2

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April 2013

            I stand in front of the mirror trying to dry my tears so the make-up artist can freshen up what I have just destroyed. I'm wearing my mother's wedding dress and I can feel her with me. The tenderly cared for fabric clings to my body, hugging me as my mother would if she were here. The crisp white color is still bright, only the faint darkening at the edge of the lace giving away its age. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

            The heart-shaped bodice is adorned with beads, with a sheer, delicate band of lace rising up toward my neck and clipping at the back. The front dips just low enough that I can wear the shooting-star necklace Jackson gave me. Intricate lacework reaches to the tips of my shoulders, leaving my arms bare, and there is a large oval cutout in the back. Tiny white pearls adorn the lace flowers and I know from family stories that my grandmother, as a gift to my mom, added each of these pearls for her wedding day. 

            The gown hugs my curves and opens up into a flowing skirt at my hips, creating the most classically beautiful vision of silk and lace that any bride has ever worn. As I tie the ribbon at the base of my back, I imagine my mother's hands having done the same thing many years ago.

            When I turn around I find Abby, her own make-up smudged with the tears she's been fighting. "You look amazing!" she croaks, emotion causing the words to sound tight. "I bet your mom would have loved this on you." Her arms reach for me and pull me against her as I close my eyes and remember the last happy image I have of my mother. She was standing in the doorway of my room a short time before her diagnosis. I was brushing my hair and she smiled at me, taking the brush and sitting beside me so she could help smooth out the strands.

            "Twenty minutes," my wedding planner reminds us and Abby and I loosen our hold on each other and grin. The make-up artist quickly goes to work, telling me that the waterproof mascara needs a chance to set before I start crying again or it will never stay put. In just twenty minutes I'm going to be Mrs. Jackson Rider and that thought helps to dry the tears.

            My father meets me just outside the door of the bridal suite, his eyes shining as he takes in the sight of his only daughter in the dress worn by his own bride.  "You look just as beautiful as your mother did. Isabel would be so proud of you." His finger touches a small pearl on my shoulder and I watch his face, knowing he is lost in his own memories. He clears his throat, offering me his arm.

            Abby straightens my train from behind before stepping in front of me, getting into position for our entrance. She leans close to my ear and whispers, "I love those heels. They're perfect." She turns around, knowing that if she looks at me too long we will both lose our composure. My shoes are a deep blue, and while they are completely covered by my dress, Abby has spotted the small charms with my mother's picture hanging from the back of each heel. I'll be damned if I'm not going to have my mother help walk me down the aisle. 

            I know a lot of women do the 'first look' photos, so that the moment the bride and groom see each other can be perfectly caught on film, but I want the first time Jackson sees me in this dress to be when I'm on my way to taking him as my husband. I'm not disappointed. His eyes sweep over mine for the briefest of seconds and then down over the dress that means so much to me. His expression is brimming over with love and respect. That might be a drop of moisture he wipes from his eyes, but I don't recommend anyone calling him on it. He knows firsthand what it feels like to be missing a parent on this big day, and we are both battling a little sadness on the edge of all this joy.

            I can't take my eyes off of him as he stands at the end of the aisle, his tux showcasing his every asset. He, too, is wearing a special item, tucked into the front pocket of his jacket. The worn white handkerchief has so much meaning to his family I would have insisted he wear it if he hadn't already thought of it himself. His father was baptized wearing the handkerchief with his initials lovingly embroidered on the edge, and Jackson's mother carried it in her bridal gown and used it to dry her eyes when she married him many years later. Today it is carefully folded and held close to Jackson's heart. 

            It's hard to describe what it feels like when my father gives my hand to Jackson. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room and yet a wave of heat and life has been breathed directly into my lungs. I know that this is right, that everything has happened the way it was meant to. Jackson takes my hand and leans in, whispering, "This is enough. If the world ends tomorrow, this moment with you right here is enough to make it all worth it. I'm so in love with you, Rookie."

            I didn't think there was any more of my heart left to give him, but I feel it go when he says those words. When we turn to face the preacher, I catch a glimpse of my three brothers standing alongside us as Jackson's groomsmen. There isn't a dry eye in the house. I lift the hem of my dress ever so slightly to show them my shoes. Ben's eyes find our mom's image and his hand immediately rises to his chest. "Thank you," he mouths.

            Jackson reaches for me and I hold on tight to the hand that will guide me into my future. The preacher tells us about the importance of marriage and our commitment to each other, but he could have saved himself the trouble because we already know. I steal glances at Jackson and catch him doing the same. When it is finally time to face each other I let out a breath, anxious to say the words that will bind us together in front of God and everyone here. 

            Under the glow of the setting sun, surrounded by our family and friends, I vow to love Jackson until the end of time, through this life and the next. Then I look into his eyes as he vows to love me through good and bad, to honor and cherish me, to respect and care for me until the end of our days. Before the preacher can move on to pronouncing us man and wife, Jackson adds a line of his own, softly enough for only those close by to hear. "I promise that this isn't where our fairytale ends. It's just getting started. I will live each day making sure that your dreams come true and that I'm right beside you when they do." With a nod and a reassuring smile, the preacher pronounces us man and wife, and destiny and fate collide, raining happiness down on us both. Okay, maybe that happens in my own head, but it is my special day and I'm allowed to remember it the way I choose.

 ***HOPE YOU LOVED THE WEDDING! PLEASE REMEMBER TO VOTE AND COMMENT!*****