Page 81 of Heavens To Betsy

She sashays into the room, her mother-of-the-bride satin dress making a swishing noise with each step. “Sure I can’t talkyou out of this marriage thing, B? Not too late to make a run for it, you know.”

I put my hands on her shoulders and take a deep breath for patience. She sees the world a certain way because of her beliefs and choices in life. I see it a different way. I see possibility and companionship in a marriage. A beautiful friendship that blossoms into a lifelong partnership.

“I’m so happy to be marrying Silas, Mom, and I hope you can be happy for me. I don’t need you to agree. I just need you to support me in my choice.”

Mom sniffs, her nose lifting in the air, but she gives me a head nod of agreement. “Fine. Do what you want. No judgement here.”

She gives Nana side-eye and I know the “no judgement” comment was a dig at her and their strained relationship. I try not to let it bother me. Mom doesn’t seem to want to change and that’s her right. I can’t make her into someone she isn’t.

“Heavens to Betsy, Chantilly. How ’bout you have your come-apart somewhere else and let the bride be?” Nana’s voice brooks no argument. I hate to see her so worked up. I’m sure it’s not good for her heart at this age.

“How about you and Damon go ahead and get seated,” I suggest, turning Mom toward the door. “It’s about to start and I put you right at the front so you see everything.”

Mom pulls me into a hug, and for a brief second, it feels like she really does want the best for me. Then she releases me, heads for the door with her head held high, snags an open bottle of champagne that was for my bridesmaids, and leaves.

With the threat gone, my friends all spread out and do some last-minute touch-ups of their makeup. Nana comes up to me, a rock-steady firmness in the steadiness of her gaze.

“We can’t choose our family, Betsy Mae, but even if you weren’t my granddaughter, I’d choose you every single day.”

My ribs feel it first, then my throat, and then that warm bubbling feeling hits my eyeballs. “Nana,” I croak. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

She just smiles up at me, her age-spotted hands patting my waist. “Sometimes you just need to hear the truth, darlin’.”

The wedding coordinator pokes her head back in the door. “Ready, everyone?”

I suck in the deepest breath I can, telling my nerves to cut it out. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about except for maybe tripping in these heels. I kiss Nana on the cheek and thank her for being the best grandmother a girl could ask for. She stays by my side as each of my friends gives me a hug and walks out the door. When it’s just us, I settle her hand in the crook of my elbow, grab my bouquet of black and white roses, and head out the door together.

No one I’d rather walk me down the aisle than Nana.

It’s warm out, even midmorning in early May, but the mosquitos thankfully haven’t descended yet and the sun is out, turning all the flowers in the Square vibrant colors. Spring has sprung in the South, making it a perfect time to get married.

Silas is waiting for me in the middle of the pavilion, looking gorgeous in a dark blue suit, brown shoes, and a boutonniere of black roses and white baby’s breath. I try to take in the moment, memorize the faces of all my friends, family, and townsfolk in the white chairs set up on the lawn, but all I can see is Silas.

The man I get to marry. The man I get to live the rest of my life with. I’m sure there’ll be fights. Guaranteed, actually. I’m not exactly easy to live with, I know. But I trust him to love me through it all. And I trust my love for him will encourage me to try to be a better person.

I make sure Nana gets seated safely by Mom, and then I turn back to Silas. He comes to the edge of the pavilion to take my hand and walk me to the minister waiting to marry us. MaryLondon snatches the bouquet out of my hands, which is great, because I did not remember to hand it to her like we practiced.

“You look stunning, storm cloud,” Silas whispers.

“You look pretty good yourself. Not a frat boy any longer,” I whisper back.

Silas leans in. “I have a polo on under this silly suit. Don’t tell Deuce.”

Laughter explodes out of me and that’s how we begin our wedding ceremony.

When it’s all said and done, Silas wears a black-gold wedding band and I have a band of white and black diamonds to complement my engagement ring. More importantly, the minister announces us as husband and wife. Silas grins at me and I grin right back. I swear my cheek muscles are twitching from smiling so much.

Then he gets a look in his eye and I forget about my aching cheeks. His hand comes up to cup my jaw and then he’s tilting me over his arm, his lips claiming mine for all of Heaven, Mississippi, to witness. His kiss is hot and searing, a public claiming I’m all on board with. When he tilts me upright again and pulls his lips from mine, it’s to give me that smile that melts away everything around me but him.

“Let’s go party with our friends, wife.”

I think that might be my favorite nickname of all.