was rediscovering who Jamie O’Connor really was.
Tight, searing pain blocked Flannery’s throat. Tears stung her eyes. Bright white dots danced in her peripheral vision. She needed to sit down.
“Bend your knees just a little, or you’re going to pass out.” Caylor’s whisper almost vanished in the whoosh and rustle of more than five hundred people rising as the small string-and-brass ensemble transitioned from Handel’s “Water Music Suite” to join the pipe organ in playing “The Prince of Denmark’s March” trumpet voluntary.
Flannery unlocked her knees. Immediately the dizziness and dancing lights went away. But the pain in her throat grew worse when the doors at the rear of the sanctuary opened. Carrying a cascading bouquet of white flowers—roses, lily of the valley, white lilacs, and orange blossoms—and on her grandfather’s arm, Zarah moved slowly down the central aisle of the fan-shaped sanctuary, her eyes fixed on the front of the church.
Blinking to clear her vision, Flannery glanced at Bobby. His large, square jaw worked back and forth—making the muscles in his cheek appear to be twitching. He blinked, and a tear ran down his face.
Quickly, Flannery looked away, taking shallow breaths so she didn’t dissolve into the threatening sobs. She always got choked up at weddings—but this was different. This was her best friend’s wedding, one of them, anyway. Yet it wasn’t for Zarah that the emotion nearly overwhelmed her—not entirely.
Though Caylor and Dylan hadn’t set a date yet, they, too, would be getting married soon. Flannery had other unmarried friends, sure, but no one as close as these two. And in a short time, she would be absolutely and utterly alone.
And she’d discovered her greatest fear last night—while tossing and turning from her emotional encounter with her best friends after the bachelorette party. More than anything else in life, she feared growing old and dying alone. She feared going through life not sharing it with someone else in more than just friendship.
She looked past Zarah to the now-closed doors. Standing beside them, hands clasped fig-leaf style in front of him, was Jamie O’Connor.
Did she fear dying alone enough to put up with someone like him?
A manic laugh bubbled in her chest, and she nearly choked trying to keep it from escaping. She might be afraid, but she wasn’t desperate. Not yet, anyway.
Somehow, she remembered all of her responsibilities during the ceremony and—after shocking herself back into the present with the wild thought about Jamie O’Connor—managed to push everything else aside, get over her own selfishness, and truly experience Zarah’s happiness. She did allow herself the weakness of a few tears when Bobby’s voice trembled and then cracked completely when reciting his portion of the vows. Zarah, on the other hand, hadn’t been this calm, cool, and confident since…well, ever, in the time Flannery had known her.
Since most of the photos had been taken before the ceremony—except for those with Zarah and Bobby together—it didn’t take long before the wedding party and close family of the bride and groom were herded onto a bus for the trek out to the Opryland Hotel.
Flannery tried to join in the chatter amongst the crowd, but it seemed no matter where she turned or with whom she spoke, Jamie O’Connor’s voice and laughter drowned out everyone else’s.
“I knew you had a thing for him.” Jack Colby dropped into the seat beside Flannery.
“What are you talking about?” Flannery crossed her arms—and uncrossed them to keep from creasing the front of the black silk gown.
Jack raised his chin, indicating Jamie, who stood in the aisle and leaned over the seats where Stacy and Patrick sat.
“You should have seen this guy.” Jamie rested his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. Flannery couldn’t see Stacy over the high seat back, but she was certain Patrick’s fiancée had a slightly punch-drunk expression on
Tight, searing pain blocked Flannery’s throat. Tears stung her eyes. Bright white dots danced in her peripheral vision. She needed to sit down.
“Bend your knees just a little, or you’re going to pass out.” Caylor’s whisper almost vanished in the whoosh and rustle of more than five hundred people rising as the small string-and-brass ensemble transitioned from Handel’s “Water Music Suite” to join the pipe organ in playing “The Prince of Denmark’s March” trumpet voluntary.
Flannery unlocked her knees. Immediately the dizziness and dancing lights went away. But the pain in her throat grew worse when the doors at the rear of the sanctuary opened. Carrying a cascading bouquet of white flowers—roses, lily of the valley, white lilacs, and orange blossoms—and on her grandfather’s arm, Zarah moved slowly down the central aisle of the fan-shaped sanctuary, her eyes fixed on the front of the church.
Blinking to clear her vision, Flannery glanced at Bobby. His large, square jaw worked back and forth—making the muscles in his cheek appear to be twitching. He blinked, and a tear ran down his face.
Quickly, Flannery looked away, taking shallow breaths so she didn’t dissolve into the threatening sobs. She always got choked up at weddings—but this was different. This was her best friend’s wedding, one of them, anyway. Yet it wasn’t for Zarah that the emotion nearly overwhelmed her—not entirely.
Though Caylor and Dylan hadn’t set a date yet, they, too, would be getting married soon. Flannery had other unmarried friends, sure, but no one as close as these two. And in a short time, she would be absolutely and utterly alone.
And she’d discovered her greatest fear last night—while tossing and turning from her emotional encounter with her best friends after the bachelorette party. More than anything else in life, she feared growing old and dying alone. She feared going through life not sharing it with someone else in more than just friendship.
She looked past Zarah to the now-closed doors. Standing beside them, hands clasped fig-leaf style in front of him, was Jamie O’Connor.
Did she fear dying alone enough to put up with someone like him?
A manic laugh bubbled in her chest, and she nearly choked trying to keep it from escaping. She might be afraid, but she wasn’t desperate. Not yet, anyway.
Somehow, she remembered all of her responsibilities during the ceremony and—after shocking herself back into the present with the wild thought about Jamie O’Connor—managed to push everything else aside, get over her own selfishness, and truly experience Zarah’s happiness. She did allow herself the weakness of a few tears when Bobby’s voice trembled and then cracked completely when reciting his portion of the vows. Zarah, on the other hand, hadn’t been this calm, cool, and confident since…well, ever, in the time Flannery had known her.
Since most of the photos had been taken before the ceremony—except for those with Zarah and Bobby together—it didn’t take long before the wedding party and close family of the bride and groom were herded onto a bus for the trek out to the Opryland Hotel.
Flannery tried to join in the chatter amongst the crowd, but it seemed no matter where she turned or with whom she spoke, Jamie O’Connor’s voice and laughter drowned out everyone else’s.
“I knew you had a thing for him.” Jack Colby dropped into the seat beside Flannery.
“What are you talking about?” Flannery crossed her arms—and uncrossed them to keep from creasing the front of the black silk gown.
Jack raised his chin, indicating Jamie, who stood in the aisle and leaned over the seats where Stacy and Patrick sat.
“You should have seen this guy.” Jamie rested his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. Flannery couldn’t see Stacy over the high seat back, but she was certain Patrick’s fiancée had a slightly punch-drunk expression on
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