I wish I could tell her that I’m ready for her and there isn’t anything she can say that will hurt me. I know the truth, and so does she. Now Irvin has to make sure the judge realizes it.
Thirty-Four
Saylor
I have thought about my wedding day for as long as I can remember. As a young girl, I dreamed about the horse-drawn carriage and my father walking me down the aisle. My bridesmaids would be dressed in soft-pink dresses with their long hair cascading down their backs in intricate braids with flowers woven throughout. As I got older, the scene changed with the times. And there was this one moment in high school when I met a much older guy who I thought was my soul mate, and I had convinced my best friend that he was going to whisk me off into the sunset to elope in front of Elvis in a Las Vegas wedding chapel. Thankfully, I came to my senses on that last one.
One thing that I’ll miss today is my father. I always thought, like most daughters, that my father would be around to walk me down the aisle. A massive heart attack took him from me years before Lucy was born. I told both Travis and my mother that walking down the aisle in the city courtroom can easily be done alone, but both balked at the idea.
When Travis proposed, I knew it was going to be a quickie wedding. Not once did I stop and imagine a massive ceremony with all our friends and family gathering to watch us exchange vows. After I accepted, I knew my wedding would be in front of a judge, and we’d be nothing more than a number being called in a long list of people eager to get married on New Year’s Eve.
I should’ve suspected something was up when Travis was evasive about a date or when my overly eager mother sat down on my couch with a pile of bridal magazines and interrupted my self-induced pity-party movie marathon. By all accounts, I should’ve been happy. I escaped being brought back in front of a judge by my probation officer, and I was marrying Travis. A true dream come true for any romantic at heart. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to be happy about my impending nuptials. Or the fact that Elijah hadn’t called or contacted me through his lawyer. I’d like to think he hadn’t heard the news, but even I’m not that naïve.
My mother gushed over dresses, asking for my opinion. Even going so far as to ask Lucy what she thought I’d look pretty in. I sat there while the two of them marked page after page, until she abruptly left. I asked my five-year-old what that was all about, and she shrugged before she went back to coloring. I should’ve known there was a master plan to make me cry on my wedding day.
“You look beautiful,” my mother says as she stands behind me with her hands on my shoulders. I stare at myself in the mirror. The woman who stares back is someone I’m not sure I know. My makeup is flawless, and every blemish I have is somehow gone. My hair is down and loosely braided, with tendrils outlining my face, and while they look out of place, they’
re perfect. And the dress I’m wearing—the off-the-shoulder, cream A-line cut—is one that I never knew I wanted until it was taken out of the bag and I was told it was mine.
“I can’t believe all of this is happening”—this being a wedding in a church, with flowers, guests, and a minister, but it seems that my groom-to-be wanted something more than a trip to the courthouse. I imagine he’s probably tired of being in that place, and I can’t blame him.
“It is, sweetie, and you deserve it,” my mother says.
Do I? I keep questioning why all of this is happening to me. Surely he’s not in love with me, unless he is and hasn’t said anything. Here he is spending his hard-earned money to make sure I have a ceremony that I’ll remember…That’s love, right?
“I don’t know that I do, Mom. We’re getting married for all the wrong reasons.”
She sits down next to me and hands me a wad of tissues. “Saylor, sometimes the wrong reasons become the right ones. I know that Travis feels responsible for Elijah seeking custody and that he’s using marriage as an answer, but I’ve seen you guys together. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That man is smitten, and he’s not willing to let you get away from him.”
“I keep questioning whether or not he’s good for Lucy.”
“He is. I saw them together yesterday, and everything between them is natural. I know you don’t believe in fate or kismet, but I believe in my heart he is meant to be a part of her life, and a part of yours.”
She wipes the tears that have welled in my eyes and rests her forehead against mine. “Saylor, if I had any doubt about you marrying Travis, I would tell you. The anxiety you’re feeling—every woman goes through this. The only difference is that they’ve had time to adjust; you’ve had a few days. I was the same way with your father when he asked me. I second-guessed my reasons for saying yes, much like you are now, and I can easily tell you that once I said ‘I do,’ all the self-doubt I had was gone.”
“You dated him much longer than I’ve known Travis.”
My mother shrugs slightly, as if to brush off my statement. “It’s all relative. Some people meet in Vegas and marry right off, and they’re still together.”
I turn back to the mirror and stare at the bride I’ve become. Travis has gone out of his way to make this as memorable as possible. We will have a story to tell, other than saying we married in front of a justice of the peace with my mom as our witness.
I push the vanity stool back, and more of my dress comes into view. When I stepped into the gown earlier, I felt like a princess. I know it’s a cliché, but there’s a feeling that washes over you when your fairy tale is about to come true, even if it isn’t exactly how you imagined.
My hands brush down the front of my dress as I stand. I turn on my heels so I can hear the tulle underneath swish back and forth. The sound brings a smile to my face. It’s something I’ve always wanted to hear. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”
“One thing,” my mom says as she comes behind me. I feel cool metal against my skin before I can register what she’s doing. I bend my neck forward, allowing her to clasp the necklace. “This is your something old and blue,” she says as my fingers fiddle with the sapphire. “This belonged to Travis’s grandmother, and his mother has asked that you wear it today.”
My hand covers my mouth as an “Oh God” slips out. “It’s beautiful.”
“And perfect for you,” she says as she brushes her hands up and down my arms in comfort. “I know you’re scared, Saylor, but sometimes being scared means you care, and I know you care about that man who is standing at the altar, waiting for you.”
“I do.” I love him but have yet to say those words to him out of fear that he may not feel the same way.
“Don’t tell me; tell him.”
Mom hands me my bouquet of red and champagne-colored roses. It’s simple, yet elegant, and matches her corsage. She opens the door to the vestibule where I’m greeted by Lucy and Branch’s son, Shaun, who is dressed in a tux. Along with Ainsley Bailey and Daisy Davenport, who are dressed in long red dresses that match the cut of my gown.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking at my mother.