well,” Maddie says, stepping up beside me on the edge of the path leading to the pool cloister.
“Yes. You should be proud. Thank you for everything.”
She reaches up and rubs my back. “Are you okay?”
I only came downstairs twice last night to check on things. Once during dinner and the second time when I heard our guests heading upstairs to bed. I figured Maddie knew something was going on between you and me.
I shake my head, not able to talk about it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I can tell you’re upset. If you want to talk, I’m here.”
I manage a shaky smile. “Thanks.”
The last thing I want to do is involve her and MJ in our problems. If things end between us… MJ’s yours and Maddie with him.
I’ll have nothing.
The island is mine, but without you I don’t want it.
It’s nothing without you.
Tears prickle my eyes and I turn before Maddie sees them. “I’m going to check on the gazebo.” I’m sure she’s already been there twenty times and has everything set up for the ceremony, but she doesn’t say anything as I quickly make my way down the path.
The sun’s a bright orange ball, not quite directly overhead, making slanted, jagged shadows of palm trees and birds of paradise flowers. The island seems harsh today. Harsh and beautiful, like it could swallow me whole while smiling.
I’m not surprised when I spot a gator lying in the tall grass sunning itself. Fortunately, it’s far enough away to avoid, and the children are all back at the hotel. I’ll make sure Riley and Jesse search the area on four-wheelers before the ceremony this afternoon. The loud whine of the engines will run any gators off.
At the end of the path, the gazebo stands flowing in white gossamer and flowers like a bride itself. Behind it, the water on the river sparkles like diamonds in the sun. The sky is clear and bright blue. It’s the perfect day for a Turtle Tear wedding.
The tears come and I let them. I deserve them and won’t hold them back. I want to stand here with you in this beautiful place we built together and vow to love you forever, but I don’t know if that will ever happen now.
We don’t communicate, and if we can’t talk to each other, then we have no foundation to build a relationship on.
*
The sight of Beck in a tux is shocking. His hair is slicked back and tidy, he’s clean shaven, and without the cello resting between his knees, I would’ve never recognized him.
He closes his eyes to the gentle push and pull of the bow across the strings. His fingers press and release deftly on each chord. He’s making the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It echoes across the island unchallenged by birdsong. Even the cranes cease their whooping cries while he plays and Mrs. Nelson is escorted down the aisle by her oldest son.
One of the bride and groom’s grandsons is a minister. From where we sit, in the very last row of chairs, his voice rings true and clear.
“… and do you, Grandma, take Grandpa to love and to cherish, for better and for worse…”
I love the familiarity of it, how they thought it would sound odd for their grandson to call them by their names instead of Grandma and Grandpa, because that’s who they are to everyone seated before them. The heads of this big family. The two who began it all.
I long to take your hand in mine. It’s right there, resting on your thigh. All I have to do is reach out and take it. You wouldn’t pull away, would you?
“I do,” the bride says, her smile beaming, wisps of her white hair blowing in the warm, gentle breeze coming off the water.
MJ sits with his arm around Maddie’s shoulders. She holds his hand and leans into him. I want to be there when they get married. I want to see Mr. Simcoe walk her down the aisle. I want to see your proud expression as your son takes his wife.
I turn to look at you and let my eyes wander the side of your face, your wide lips and prominent nose, the line of your brow over your intense,
“Yes. You should be proud. Thank you for everything.”
She reaches up and rubs my back. “Are you okay?”
I only came downstairs twice last night to check on things. Once during dinner and the second time when I heard our guests heading upstairs to bed. I figured Maddie knew something was going on between you and me.
I shake my head, not able to talk about it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I can tell you’re upset. If you want to talk, I’m here.”
I manage a shaky smile. “Thanks.”
The last thing I want to do is involve her and MJ in our problems. If things end between us… MJ’s yours and Maddie with him.
I’ll have nothing.
The island is mine, but without you I don’t want it.
It’s nothing without you.
Tears prickle my eyes and I turn before Maddie sees them. “I’m going to check on the gazebo.” I’m sure she’s already been there twenty times and has everything set up for the ceremony, but she doesn’t say anything as I quickly make my way down the path.
The sun’s a bright orange ball, not quite directly overhead, making slanted, jagged shadows of palm trees and birds of paradise flowers. The island seems harsh today. Harsh and beautiful, like it could swallow me whole while smiling.
I’m not surprised when I spot a gator lying in the tall grass sunning itself. Fortunately, it’s far enough away to avoid, and the children are all back at the hotel. I’ll make sure Riley and Jesse search the area on four-wheelers before the ceremony this afternoon. The loud whine of the engines will run any gators off.
At the end of the path, the gazebo stands flowing in white gossamer and flowers like a bride itself. Behind it, the water on the river sparkles like diamonds in the sun. The sky is clear and bright blue. It’s the perfect day for a Turtle Tear wedding.
The tears come and I let them. I deserve them and won’t hold them back. I want to stand here with you in this beautiful place we built together and vow to love you forever, but I don’t know if that will ever happen now.
We don’t communicate, and if we can’t talk to each other, then we have no foundation to build a relationship on.
*
The sight of Beck in a tux is shocking. His hair is slicked back and tidy, he’s clean shaven, and without the cello resting between his knees, I would’ve never recognized him.
He closes his eyes to the gentle push and pull of the bow across the strings. His fingers press and release deftly on each chord. He’s making the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It echoes across the island unchallenged by birdsong. Even the cranes cease their whooping cries while he plays and Mrs. Nelson is escorted down the aisle by her oldest son.
One of the bride and groom’s grandsons is a minister. From where we sit, in the very last row of chairs, his voice rings true and clear.
“… and do you, Grandma, take Grandpa to love and to cherish, for better and for worse…”
I love the familiarity of it, how they thought it would sound odd for their grandson to call them by their names instead of Grandma and Grandpa, because that’s who they are to everyone seated before them. The heads of this big family. The two who began it all.
I long to take your hand in mine. It’s right there, resting on your thigh. All I have to do is reach out and take it. You wouldn’t pull away, would you?
“I do,” the bride says, her smile beaming, wisps of her white hair blowing in the warm, gentle breeze coming off the water.
MJ sits with his arm around Maddie’s shoulders. She holds his hand and leans into him. I want to be there when they get married. I want to see Mr. Simcoe walk her down the aisle. I want to see your proud expression as your son takes his wife.
I turn to look at you and let my eyes wander the side of your face, your wide lips and prominent nose, the line of your brow over your intense,
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