We greet all 200-ish guests, then stand by the wedding party under the oak tree for photos. This is the part of other people's weddings that I hate: the part where you have to wait an hour at the reception for everyone to finish taking pictures and get over there so you can start the buffet. It's not much more fun being photographed, but I've gotta admit Scott and I look sharp as knives. I worked out the shoe situation with Candice, and she also put me in touch with this 900-year-old seamstress named Harriet who still works with a mechanical sewing machine and is, by all accounts, the greatest tailor alive. She didn't ask us what we wanted; she just took our measurements and sent us away. Somehow she already knew.
Photos: not as boring as expected. I maybe cry a little when Kevin, Avi, Kirstie, Scott, and I all stand together for a group picture. My husband pulls out his phone when the photographer's done and takes a classic Scott Hoying selfie of the five of us. Reception: gorgeous. It's turning to dusk, and the tables are all lit with candles. Speeches: Kevin makes us laugh, Avi makes us cry, and Kirstie wraps up with a bit of both. Cake: gorgeous. Full of gluten, but pretty enough to eat the frosting and feed the rest to Scott. First dance: wow, Tori can sing. And I don't think I want to look anywhere but Scott's eyes ever again. After all the traditional dances, though, I get caught talking to Baz, who wants me to introduce him to Val. I'm delighted to oblige, and she's delighted to meet him, and he's delighted to meet her, and it's all around a very delightful experience.
I scan the crowd for a tall handsome blond man in a black suit. I find two. Well, I still haven't decided if Alex's hair is blond or brunet, or whether his eyes are blue or hazel, but is a bit unsettling how similar the two of them are, and it's even more unsettling seeing them talking. I can't hear them from this distance, but Scott's head is bowed a little, and I think his hands are clasped behind his back. Alex is nodding, head tilted, listening. He shakes his head and puts a hand on Scott's shoulder. He waits until Scott looks up before speaking. Scott responds, Alex answers, they go back and forth for a while, and my sister and brother-in-law step into my line of view. Not now, people!
While I catch up on her job and his projects and their kid, I steal glances at Scott and Alex. It seems to be getting kind of intense. I might need to intervene soon. They don't look mad, though, and Jake is close enough to step in if it goes south. I don't doubt that it's thanks to Jake that Alex invited us to their wedding. I'm not sure I'm taking it the right way, but as well as I can understand it, Alex telling me to take care of Scott means he still cares about Scott, and he's actually willing to admit it. If that's thanks to Jake, he's been better for Alex than I ever was.
"So where's the honeymoon?"
"Huh? Uh, I dunno." I can't quite believe what I'm seeing. Alex is smiling.
"You don't know?"
Scott's smiling too now. "He hasn't told me." I have my suspicions, though.
"Very mysterious! Ha, I wouldn't put up with that from my hubby for one second. For starters, what would I pack?"
"He'll pack for me."
"What if he packs something unfashionable?!?" Jess teases.
"I'll figure something out." I always have my birthday suit on hand.
"Well, have a fantastic time, and best wishes for you both. It's about time."
Oh, I know. Here comes the I told you so. Scott is back by my side by the time it's over. It's kind of difficult rolling my eyes at Jess while radiating my approval to Scott for making up with Alex, but I think I do a pretty good job.
Scott and I retreat to the head table once Jess and company move along. "How did you pull that off?"I ask.
"Huh?"
"You hugged Alex! What happened? What did you do?"
"What you would have." Details, Scott, details! "I apologized, I accepted his apologies, and we forgave each other."
"That can't have been easy." For either of them. I could burst with pride right about now. "How do you feel about it?"
"Weird. Floaty. Good, I think. He's changed."
"You too."
"You're a good influence."
"And you're a sweetheart. Honey, I can't tell you how happy I am. It sucked being in the middle of that. More than that, I'm happy for you. I think it'll make things easier, not holding on to that anymore."
"Can't afford to. My hands are full, now you're mine to have and to hold."
"You gonna be this cheesy all week?"
"All your life, baby. Maybe I should have warned you before you were stuck with me. But hey, I'm not half as cheesy as you are."
"But I actually mean it!"
"So do I, Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi-Hoying."
"Shut up. Are you trying to make me cry?"
"Weep your heart out. They've already taken photos. Dance with me again?"
"If you ask nicely."
We're interrupted, though, by the sound of clinking glass. "Make 'em work for it," I mumble to Scott. We pretend to ignore it until the whole room is participating, whereupon we kiss briefly. Ten minutes later, they're back to tapping their glasses again. Seriously? I guess there are worse fates than kissing Scott. Our guests are relentless, though. Six kisses later, we just kind of ignore it. At least, that's what I think we're doing until Scott literally sweeps me off my feet. We close our eyes and kiss like our lives depend on it, and when we pull apart, we lean right back in for more. They asked for it. They aren't complaining, either. There's actual applause.
Once Scott and I have danced our fill and socialized as much as is required, we gravitate back to Pentatonix. We haven't all been in a room together since 2019, and we have a lot of catching up to do. I don't really want to leave. I'm exhausted, though, and I understand we have a plane to catch at 11:55 tonight.
"I'm glad that's over," Scott sighs once we're safely tucked away in the back of a limo. My head rests on his shoulder, and his thumb is idly twirling my ring around my finger.
"The party? I thought it was fun."
"The part of my life where I wasn't married to you."
"Mmmm. Me too. I love you."
"Even if I tell you it's a twelve hour flight with two layovers?"
"Oh, I know exactly where you're taking me."
"No way."
"Whatever you say, darling. Wake me up when we're in Reykjavik."
