Forty-Two

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There was only one thought in my mind when my bare feet hit the wooden dock: Senior prom. It was ludicrous that was what I was thinking of, but there it was. Noah Steele had dumped me one week before prom night, and I was devastated. I had my emerald green ball gown bought and altered, tickets, everything. And that douche dumped me for Lisa Swann.

Andrew swooped in and saved the day; he hadn't wanted to go to prom at all (I suspect now because he couldn't go with me), but as soon as I found him between the band room and the gym and told him what Noah had done, he made a big production of asking me to be his date.

Why that memory popped in my head at this moment was a mystery to me until I met my Uncle Jeff at the edge of the sand and took his arm: I was barefoot the entire night at our senior prom. Andrew had stepped on my feet countless times and had even given me a foot rub in the limo on the way home. I laughed to myself, and Jeff looked down at me quizzically.

"I'm just really, really happy," I whispered, hugging him.

He squeezed me. "Proud of you, my sweet niece. Now let's go get you married."

I nodded, blinking tears away, and we made our way down the shore toward where Andrew, Julia, our officiant, and our families were gathered. Everyone was standing since it was going to be a brief ceremony, but they all looked happy to be there, the gulf breeze sweeping through their hair. But then my eyes landed on Andrew, and I couldn't look at anything else.

He was wearing a lightweight blue suit, barefoot, with his chestnut hair sticking up in the wind, reminding me of Christmas Eve in downtown Nashville when he asked me to marry him. His blue eyes were bright, and by the time I got close enough to touch him, I noticed tears streaming down his cheeks. I smiled, feeling my happiness radiate off me like sunbeams. The waves were crashing on the sand, creating a rhythm that made the lack of music a non-issue.

"You're beautiful," Andrew mouthed to me as Jeff and I stood in front of Andrew and the officiant.

"I love you," I mouthed back.

The officiant spoke then, in a loud, clear voice we could hear over the waves. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

Jeff motioned for Aunt Rose to join him, and when she stepped up, she kissed me on the cheek and he said. "Her aunt and I do, on behalf of her mother and father," he added, and more tears fell from my cheeks, the rest of the ceremony passing in an ethereal, magical daze.

It wasn't until I heard the words "you may kiss the bride" and felt Andrew's hands on my cheeks did I realize that all of this was really happening. We'd made it. I was married—to the love of my life, my best friend. His lips closed over mine, and amidst the cheers of our families and Julia, my life felt complete.

After the wedding, we took a few photos and exchanged hugs, then our families went ahead to the restaurant where we planned to have our post-wedding festivities.

After our families left,Andrew excused himself to take care of paying the officiant. The beach had emptied, and we were the only ones around. Julia and I were standing on the shore, my dress spread out behind me on the sand, the rising tide splashing our feet. The quiet was blissful.

I crossed my arms over my chest, the cool evening air giving me a slight chill. Julia stepped to my left, digging her toes into the sand. I looked down at her and smiled. I bumped her with my hip, and she looked at me, grinning.

"Thank you for being here, Julia. Seriously. Now that the wedding is over, I know it wouldn't have been the same without you."

She put her arm around me and hugged me. "Absolutely. I wouldn't have missed it. I'd have been creeping around behind the sand dunes if you hadn't wanted me here," she said, laughing. I knew she was only half kidding. She stomped her foot suddenly, like she was remembering something. "Shit! I have Andrew's wallet! He didn't want it in his pocket during the wedding, so I stuck it in my purse. I'll be right back!" she exclaimed, grabbing her bag and running up toward the street.

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