Page 16 of The Ties that Bind

“Yes. She’s playing. It’s time! Come on, my beautiful daughter.”

Together, we walked to the back door. My dad took the handle in his free right hand and opened it wide, letting the soaring notes of the wedding march reach out and carry us into our first steps down the petal-covered white linen runner.

The weather was glorious; warm and sunny with just a few clouds, but not too hot. Just right!

To the right and left, a wave ran through my family and friends as they stood and turned to face me. Everywhere I looked, I could see smiles, joy and love. I knew every face. My mother, my two brothers, my grandma, Zoe’s parents, Abigail’s parents, her two sisters, the Vaporized band members, Al, Aiden, Marty’s parents and his brother… Everyone was here. Everyone had found the time to come together and be here for Marty and me.

Marty. Of course, Marty was here too… I hadn’t seen him at first because every part of me felt him there, waiting for me at the end of the aisle. I didn’t need to look for him. I knew he would always be there.

Now that I had found his gaze, though, I couldn’t look away. Every note of the wedding march beautifully played by Abigail brought me closer to him and my new life. I had to watch my feet, measure every step because if I didn’t, I would pick up my skirt, run to him in my wedding gown and kiss him before it was time.

Finally, we reached the end of the runner and stepped up into the gazebo with Marty on my right and the chaplain from Tulane University in front of me facing the audience. The music faded away, and Abigail stood gracefully. Arranging her skirt, she stepped across the grass to stand beside Zoe inside the gazebo.

The chaplain gestured to Marty, and he stepped forward to stand on the other side of Daddy. Then the chaplain began to speak. He spoke of the beauty of the bride and the groom, the beauty of this place upon our green Earth and the reverence and integrity with which all in attendance should look upon our union that God had brought together. His strong voice carried to every man and woman in attendance. I listened to him and felt the truth of his words in my heart.

“Please be seated,” he ended, and a rustling of fabric met my ears as everyone did so. “Pray with me.”

The prayer was short and said without a single hitch in the chaplain’s words - maybe he didn’t even breathe. But its brevity didn’t lessen the beauty of the prayer, nor its heartfelt delivery. And then, suddenly, it was time. Holding open his pastoral book, the chaplain turned to my father, and asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

“Her mother and me,” Daddy’s voice quivered a bit before he stepped back, removing himself from the space between Marty and me and letting my hand slip from his arm to my beloved’s. I gave his arm one last squeeze before he stepped away to be seated next to Momma.

From his book, the chaplain shared a brief passage of Scripture that spoke of love. I had read it before, but unlike many, many passages, I had never connected spiritually with this one.

I did now. It applied to us all, whether we all realized it or not.

Then, finally, the chaplain spoke directly to Marty. He asked those questions, the ones about loving me, wanting to be with me and sharing his life with me. He asked if Marty would do those things, as long as we both should live.

Abigail took my bouquet before Marty began slipping the beautiful wedding ring that matched my engagement ring on my finger, answering, “I do.” From the lips of the man I loved came those two words, so simple, yet so filled with meaning.

Then it was my turn and Zoe handed me Marty’s gold wedding ring. I listened to the same questions and I had to stop myself from nodding my head. Of course, I would do all these things. That was what love meant, and I loved Marty with everything I had. “I do.” My eyes misted over, just a hint of happy tears, but I blinked them away. Now it was time to recite the personal vows we had created for each other.

I raised my voice so everyone could hear, my lungs strong and sure, not a quiver in my voice. I told Marty how I had felt when I met him. How he had stood above any other man. I recounted the sadness I had felt when I moved away and the joy that had replaced that sadness when we reconnected. I told him everything I loved about him, and then I had to pause to collect myself, so I could tell him how strong he was and how brave he had been in the face of cancer.

I could see quelled tears in his eyes, and it was his turn. I had to fight even harder to keep mine down as he told me how much I meant to him and how others in his past had led him to struggle with believing in love. I had reawakened that belief in him and he loved me all the more for bringing him back on the right path. Then, finally, in a deep voice as strong as the man himself, Marty spoke about fate. Fate had brought us together in high school, separated us to learn lessons of life, and then God had pulled us back together when the time was right.

I was actually crying now, but not any normal kind of crying. Tears ran down my cheeks but I beamed like I never had before, and my eyes were as bright as the sunny day. I could see everything so clearly. The life ahead of me, Marty’s love for me, and my love for him…

The chaplain cleared his throat gently, closed his book and announced, “I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.”

Marty lifted my veil then caressed my face gently in his hands as I closed the remaining inches between us, and we brought our lips together in the most important kiss of our lives.

Clapping broke out from the approving, loving hands of our family and friends. We both knew it was time for Marty to offer me his arm and take me back down the aisle created by the runner between the chairs as a married couple, but we shared one more, then two more kisses, lost in each other, our hearts thundering above the applause.

Music rose above the dozens of hands as we finally broke our kiss. The members of Vaporized had jumped up quickly and headed to their instruments set up to one side of the yard, where the grass was greenest, flattest and perfect for dancing. The guests all stood up. “My beautiful, wonderful wife.” Marty kissed my hand, opting to cut the cake later. “May I have this first dance?”

“Of course.” I resisted the urge to kiss him again. There would be more than enough time for that later. For now, Abigail had gone to join her band and Al had taken the mic and hoisted his guitar, and we needed to go kick off a wonderful evening of dancing and fun.

The guests circled around the soft green of the natural dance floor to watch and munch on the food. The song took Marty and me, pulling us along and keeping us perfectly in step, and when it ended, everyone clapped again. In twos and threes, others joined us under the lanterns strung over the grass.

The next song, of course, I danced with my father. I spotted Marty and my mother dancing on the other side of Zoe and Aiden, and my heart fluttered to see two people I loved more than anything celebrating together.

Then the song ended and another began, but I stepped off the dance floor. I smiled widely as Marty’s brother asked one of Abigail’s sisters to dance, leading her into the midst of the other dancers.

“They would make a cute couple,” I commented to Abigail.

“Maybe, but she’s kind of a tease. Hasn’t found anyone she wants to keep more than a couple of months.” Zoe, Abigail and I giggled at Abigail’s words. Of course, we were all spoken for now.

“Maggie, we have to do this again,” Zoe said suddenly. “I don’t mean this exact occasion… Although, I hope that will happen for both of us too, of course. I just mean us three. Together. Having a good time.”

“Then let’s do this every year,” I decided suddenly. The light from the lanterns glimmered in the faces of my two best friends. “Let’s have a reunion every year, in June, right here in this house. We weren’t just fated to find Marty, Al and Aiden. We were also fated to be best friends.”

“We can celebrate the ties that bind us every year in New Orleans,” Abigail agreed, and we all joined hands.

“Sorry to interrupt, but might I steal my beautiful wife for another dance?” Marty asked, coming up to us. The jazz band was playing now, and Al stood next to Marty, extending a hand to Abigail as well.

I let Marty take my hand. He held it high, leading me to the dance floor with an impromptu spin. My eyes met Zoe’s and Abigail’s, and we smiled secret, best-friend smiles, knowing that we might lead different lives and move to new places, but we would never forget our ties here in New Orleans, Louisiana.