I Do, You Die

Chapter 1

Their wedding was on the most perfect day in June, a summer day so crisp and clear you couldn’t see one cloud in the sky. She couldn’t have asked for better weather. Every one of the bridesmaid’s hair had turned out perfectly; there was no humidity. It was one of those days when everything turned out right. She remembered Laura had worried about that and was pleased to see that it wouldn’t be an issue.

She smiled at the four bridesmaids in their pale pink, ivory, mauve and mint green chiffon dresses that coordinated perfectly. They giggled and hugged, taking photos with their phones, posing with arms wrapped around each other, delighting in the fact that all the details turned out as planned.

The wedding was held just outside the city, at a farmhouse converted into a small, family-run orchard where fresh apricots and ripe, juicy blackberries were made into delicious, sweet-as-honey jams. There was tractor that went back-and-forth along the property all afternoon, bringing the guests to the hill where the ceremony had taken place under sweeping willow trees. They had been surrounded by the fresh, thick, sweet fragrance of ripening fruit. From the tree branches, white tulle draped down like a canopy and fairy lights dotted the path.

Tiny jam jars with a red and white grosgrain labels and twine bows were set at every guest’s place. The ceiling of the white tent was filled with white balloons and long, curling red and white ribbons hung down, so the tallest guests could reach (or so a pretty girl could ask a tall, handsome guest to grab one); people could pull a balloon down, pop it, and read a love quote, poem or short piece of romantic advice inside. It was just one of the many thoughtful details.

All day, people pulled them down and the pop, pop, pop could be heard, mixing with excited laughter.

The air filled with the pretty clinking noise of champagne glasses, to which the pretty blonde bride would sweetly blush before kissing her husband. The tables were dressed with burlap runners, twine-wrapped ivory candles and bouquets of fresh, wild flowers in mason jars. She had really done such a good job putting it all together.

And she was perfect. Her hair had been pulled up and braided so that a crown of hair framed her face.  She wore simple make up so you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. She wore a single white peony in her hair and wrapped her thin arms around her new husband, laughing with her girlfriends, hugging her father and posing for photo after photo. Her cheeks were flushed pink all afternoon.

“Thank you so much for being there to lead our ceremony! It was lovely, ” gushed the bride, Laura Keller, earlier. “Please stay for the afternoon and enjoy yourself. We’ve put you at a fun table and we would be so happy to have you.” Laura was so gracious and sweet.

Julie nodded, excited to be invited. It had been a wonderful wedding; she admired the details so much and was glad to stay to see how the day would unfold. The bride really had thought of everything. It was picture perfect. She adjusted her glasses and smiled sweetly at her.

“Thank you. The pleasure was all mine,” she said, meaning it. “Everything is just perfect.”

Julie loved her job because she loved love. She understood how important it was to write the words for the ceremony, to be an essential part of a couple’s most special and important day - it was an honor. To stand in front of their families and friends, have them pledge themselves forever to each other was overwhelming and beautiful. It brought tears to her eyes. She sometimes couldn’t help but get choked up during a ceremony, which made her one of the most popular officiants in her company.

She was young and pretty (in a plain way, she thought, which was nice because it meant she wouldn’t take any attention from the bride; Julie really thought that was important. Be too flashy, too pretty, too old, too young, too serious and be a distraction when the attention should be focused on the couple). Julie could read the energy in a room and deliver the kind of perfect speech that would make a father cry, a brother blush and even the most cynical friend stop whispering and listen.  It was a talent.

Julie loved the buzzy feeling at a wedding, the nervousness mixed with excitement. Watching the bride walk down the aisle clutching her father’s arm and smiling nervously at her future husband. The almost-husbands usually tapped their toes or joked nervously with their friends, but got so straight and serious when the ceremony started. Julie thought it was exciting to be able to shape the afternoon and set the tone for the rest of their life with the perfect poem, quote or story. She prided herself in caring so much about her couples.

“Hello – what’s your name again?” The mother of the bride walked over unsteadily to where she sat, alone. 

“Julie.”

“Beautiful ceremony - so thoughtful and sweet! And how ever did you come up with that children’s book quote? That was her favourite story when she was a child!” squealed the bride’s mother, obviously tipsy from the champagne.

“Oh, I always research my couples, meet with them beforehand, get to know them, ask them a million questions, learn about their relationship and hear their story…it’s all so I can prepare the perfect vows. It’s so important.”

“Well, I would almost say that you were a close friend, the way you knew the exact right things to say! A sister couldn’t have done a better job,” the mother gushed on, grabbing Julie’s arm and leaning in to steady herself. Her breath was acidic with liquor.

“Thank you. That’s the nicest compliment.” Julie said graciously, easing the mother into a chair. Around them, the sky started to get darker as the sun set. The party was really starting. The groom was doing shots of vodka, his tie undone, his arm wrapped tightly around a bridesmaid, who looked at her nervously when their eyes met. The bride’s mother pointed towards her with a champagne glass.  

“That’s the bride’s sister! My other daughter! She didn’t want to lead the ceremony, even after Laura begged. Said she was too nervous. Can you believe it?”

“No – really?” Julie eyed her. The girl was pulling herself out of the groom’s grip, her eyes darting quickly around.

“If you ask me, I think something happened between the two of them…just a guess, mind you… but I have my sources.” Suddenly, the bride’s mother’s face flushed with embarrassment, realizing what she had said.

“Oh...I shouldn’t have said that! God, I’ve had too much to drink! I better be going...I think I need some water,” she mumbled, her face flushing red. She pushed herself up, splashing the rest of her drink on the table.

“You’re not going to say anything to anyone, are you? I mean, you don’t even know anyone here, it’s not like you’re someone that - ” she sneered, her face changing. She cut herself short and leaned in towards Julie aggressively. Julie shook her head, her face calm and expressionless.

“I would never…“ But by then, the woman had already gotten up unsteadily and straightened her dress, walking away.

Julie stared at the groom, her face darkening.