Chapter 49: Winter
Bury me in your quiet love
And we will blow away
I want a snowfall kind of love
The kind of love that keeps you in bed all day
608 days and some-odd minutes.
Not a bad engagement length, but after the initial proposal and months of whirlwind moving, traveling, settling, and schedule-syncing, 20 months had gone by in a flash. Both Jughead and herself had job opportunities all lined up prior to graduation that took some adjusting.
Jughead had accepted a position at a small non-profit organization in Massachusetts that produced prosthetics for military veterans and blue-collar workers. He had spent a semester working there for an internship and really enjoyed working with both the company and the tough-as-nails clientele. Betty had spent countless hours at night, listening to Jughead recount stories about sarcasm-laced pirate jokes, gruff men with their fluffy support animals, and women who could probably run faster than any athlete on the Riverdale track team.
Betty was offered a position with an online social-justice news site, dedicated to national and international events. Her first assignment right out of graduation was a three month project in Thailand, where she followed families seeking asylum from Cambodia.
The two of them had known about this ahead of time, and Jughead was quick to encourage Betty to do what she wanted. Of course, Betty was excited for the opportunity, not feeling like she was missing too much from her limited time in the U.S. Life was short and the world was vast! She had so much of it to see!
Through Skype and conference calls with realtors, they had managed to find a nice home rental within biking distance of Jughead's office, and once that was settled, Betty was off. There was almost no time to enjoy her newly minted engagement, basking in the joy of her friends and family for just a few days before taking the first flight to Bangkok.
In true Jughead fashion, her fiance had sent her off with a lovely kiss and promises to have the nest ready for her return. "Like a good future-husband," he grinned, swallowing Betty's laughter with a kiss.
And Bangkok . . . what an adventure. Days had bled together, and inconsistent working hours really took a toll on Betty's time-management skills. She met so many people, ate so many new things, sent home jars of fermented fish paste, curries, prawn crackers, and fresh herbs (much to Jughead's delight), and wrote some of the most amazing testimonials.
It felt good, knowing that her articles were reaching the masses and bringing awareness to the ongoing concerns of international refugees.
But she missed Jughead. She missed the home they were both going to live in even though she had only seen it through a computer screen.
And those three amazing months felt so much longer than the four years of university they had to endure.
After Thailand, Betty had requested local assignments, at least until the honeymoon.
The following months were spent in transition. Betty had to relearn how to live in the U.S. Relearn how to share space with someone she loved (who was a little more of a clutter-bug than herself). As she re-acclimated herself to the privileges of western civilization, Jughead had to acclimate himself to sharing their home with another person . . . which was surprisingly hard after three months of being the only living thing in the house.
Their first joint decision? A tabby cat rescue with a bite taken out of her left ear. She had a lovely collection of dark yellow spots along her legs, and Jughead had immediately dubbed her "Dijon."
"Like the mustard? I'm sensing a theme here."
"Well, it's that or 'Lil' Weiner' which doesn't seem to suit her as well. Eh, Dijon?"
Dijon refrained from responding, staring out of her pet-carrier.
It turned out that Dijon wasn't much of a people-cat. She crept from room to room, stared at people from high perches, and generally only approaching Betty or Jughead when her food bowl was empty.
They both loved her dearly.
Once Betty was completely established in Massachusetts, it was time to really plan. Spring or Winter wedding? Wedding in Riverdale or in Massachusetts? Inside or outside? Open or closed bar?
As fun as joint planning was, Jughead eventually pulled the neutrality card and left the decision-making to Betty. Which was just as well. He had planned the proposal with her brother Chic; she could plan a wedding with her sister Polly.
In the end, it was all a no-brainer. The wedding ceremony would be small, close family and friends, at a small church in Riverdale. The wedding reception would take place at Pops, where everyone with or without a wedding invitation was welcome to attend. It would take place in January, when the air smelled and tasted the cleanest, like a blank slate for Betty and Jughead to start their new relationship fresh. Polly and Gladys worked with Pops to incorporate bunches of violets, purple roses, winter jasmines, and sweet alyssums into the decor, while Betty and her mom planned the small ceremony. Jughead did his part in whittling down the guest list, insisting on making Archie his best man, and taking the initiative to ask the redhead himself.
(Archie was a sobbing mess, but of course, he said yes.)
Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and his friend Kareem did a full day of cake testing. They had already known that they were fine with a chocolate and vanilla tiered cake, but it didn't stop them from trying every flavor available. Betty had a blast watching Kareem joke around with Jughead while making grand gestures to impress Ronnie.
All in all, the planning stages were fairly simple. They weren't interested in expensive venues or grand catering events. Keeping it close to the people they loved, made it all seem too easy.
The night before, disregarding all pre-wedding customs, Jughead and Betty absconded themselves in a hotel: their hotel, relaxing in a bath covered in warm bubbles. Leaning back against Jughead's chest, Betty felt almost serene while Jughead slowly demolished a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, pineapples, and-oddly enough-potato chips.
They didn't really talk much: there was no need. Neither felt any sort of apprehension on this next bit milestone in their lives. Jughead assured her that he pretty much knew back in highschool that this was it for him. They already lived together. They shared emergency contacts, a cell phone contract, and health insurance (like real adults!).
As important as this was, it was a small step in the grand scheme of things.
"We even already have a kid."
"Dijon is not a child."
"She's our fur-baby. That is apparently a term that actual people use."
Last night was their opportunity to relax. Weddings were meant for family: the night before was for them.
And now it was time.
Taking a deep breath, Betty smoothed her hand over the soft, satin folds of her skirt. Veronica's wedding gift to her was, of course, her wedding dress. The brunette had completely scoffed at Betty's comments, insisting that Betty had complete control over what design she wanted, but price would be no issue. Which of course led to various visits to bridal boutiques where the prices were all conveniently hidden from her.
So Betty wasn't very sure what the price of her dress was, or even who the designer was. She was just as happy to pick up a dress from consignment and tailor it to her specifications . . . but as her eyes trailed along the long, lace sleeves along her arms, the modest A-line, low-cut back, and buttery-soft train tumbling behind her, Betty didn't imagine that her own design would be nearly as lovely as this. For some finishing touches, Ronnie had allowed Betty to borrow a pair of sapphire stud earrings, and a diamond pendant to pin back her waves of freshly curled hair.
Her mother kept her makeup simple: eyeliner, barely-there cobalt eyeshadow, mascara, and a dark pink lip stain.
She felt like a princess.
"You better not start crying, Betty Cooper, or I will wring your neck." Veronica marched into the room, her heels a sharp staccato in the previously silent room. Her slate blue maxi moved along her long legs like water, fully amplifying her elegance. Not a bad bridesmaid dress choice if Betty did say so herself. Veronica's dress was unique in that it was slightly darker than the others, signifying her role as maid of honor.
"I'm not crying," Betty took another deep breath. "I'm just . . ."
"You're just what? The answer better be 'not crying.'" Veronica ran her hands over Betty's hips, fixing some kind of invisible flaw until she was happy enough with the placement. "Ugh, who would have thought that out of the two of us, you'd be the first to get married."
Ooo. Betty was going to try her damnedest not to cry. "Veronica."
"And that Jughead Jones was your soul mate the entire time? Some girls have all the luck."
Betty laughed. It was so strange hearing that from one of the most successful, rich, and glamourous women in the world. "I really love you."
Veronica softened at that, straightening up to brush her hands along Betty's neck and shoulders, adjusting curls as she went. "I love you, too."
Unable to restrain herself, Betty pulled Ronnie into a hug, basking in her best friend's support. Veronica melted, immediately bringing her own arms tight around Betty's waist. "Ugh, it's going to be so weird. After today, I can't call you Betty Cooper anymore."
"Actually," Betty giggled into Veronica's shoulder. "Juggie offered to hyphenate our last names, or even take mine."
Veronica pulled back with an arched brow. "Wait. So . . . Jughead Cooper? That's . . . just as weird to get used to."
"Or Cooper-Jones or Jones-Cooper."
"Hm . . ." Ronnie seemed to seriously consider it. "My vote is for Cooper-Jones. Even Jughead Cooper-Jones sounds better than JUST Jughead Cooper."
"Would you believe that Jughead agrees with you?"
"Well, duh. Of course he does." Squeezing Betty's side, Veronica winked at her. "I mean he was able to snag you. The boy possesses some common sense."
"Excuse you, Miss Veronica Lodge. That's my husband you're talking about."
Veronica didn't respond right away, her head tilting in a way to show that the gears were really turning. Betty smiled at her, willing to wait her out.
After another few seconds, Veronica sighed. "Now, even I have to admit, that sounds right."
It took a moment for Betty to catch on, but once she did, her smile felt painfully wide.
My husband.
It felt right to say.
A light knock against the doorway, brought their attention to Betty's father, who was waiting patiently by the exit. Hal was dressed simply in a sharp black suit, steel gray tie, and a small bunch of sweet alyssums pinned to his chest. Betty nearly teared up again just looking at the pride and joy on his face.
"Pulled the short straw, so I'm the lucky one to let you guys know that it's almost time. You girls all set?"
"As well as a perfectly baked Pumpkin Pie," Betty declared, making Veronica both snort and roll her eyes.
"Yes, Mr. Cooper. The star of the show is as ready as she'll ever be." Reaching over, she carefully lifted the delicate lacing of Betty's veil. "Would you like to do the honors of the final touch?"
Clearing his throat, Hal seemed incapable of responding, but he was quick to step into the room, easily taking the veil in hand and bringing it carefully up and over Betty's hair and face. Even through the sheet of white patterns, Betty could smell her father's cologne as he adjusted the veil before offering his elbow. "You ready, little girl?"
"Yes, Daddy. I'm ready." Threading her arm through his, Betty felt grounded for the first time that day, confident that her father's strength would take her exactly where she wanted to be. Growing up, she was always conscious of how fortunate she was to have such a supportive father. Betty knew that she was definitely a handful in her younger years, fluctuating between her love for Archie and her, frankly, tomboyish tendencies. But he always supported her fleeting interests and deep-rooted hobbies. He was definitely a big part of what made her the confident woman she was today, and Betty would always, always be grateful for him.
After a quick snap with her phone, Veronica made a quick exit while Betty and her father slowly followed along, the sounds of their closest family and friends getting louder with each step.
It was hard to focus on just one thing. The echos of their steps, the surreal brightness of the sun amplified by white snow, the incense soaked into the walls of the chapel, and the buzzing excitement of the bridesmaids and their escorts. Betty's heart felt full to burst, and it was almost too much when her father pressed one lasting kiss against her temple before the doors into the chapel opened.
Without thought, Betty's eyes focused ahead, by the altar where Jughead stood, Archie and Kareem by his side. She immediately laughed, spotting Jughead's long-absent whoopie cap placed artfully over his carefully combed hair.
Jughead's face immediately eased into a smile, color high on his cheeks as soon as she was in sight. Dressed in a black suit, lavender bow tie, with a single purple rose pinned to his chest, he was impossible to look away from, and Betty found herself grateful that her father was leading the way.
Surely, if she were tasked with walking down the aisle herself, she would simply fail to function. Was it possible to be this happy?
Jughead's shoulders seemed to straighten with each step Betty took towards him, barely shifting when Archie threw a few solid pats into his back. The intensity of his gaze, along with everyone else's suddenly began to register, a blush beginning to burn at Betty's cheeks.
They were nearly to the altar, just a few more steps to go, before Jughead broke rank, taking the steps in a long leap before stopping before Betty and Hal. Betty could feel her father's laugther along her arm, as he shook Jughead's hand and formally relinquished Betty to her husband-to-be.
"You take good care of my daughter, Jughead. I'm counting on you."
"We'll take good care of each other, sir." Jughead promised, nodding at Hal before gently sliding his arm around Betty's shoulders.
Betty nearly melted against him as he pressed himself along her right side, taking her right hand into his, and leaving her left hand to gather her skirts for the few steps up.
At the top, they finally met with the patiently waiting preacher, his smile warm as they reoriented themselves. Jughead's fingers twitched at the ends of her veil, leaning forward almost unconsciously. "You look beautiful, Betty."
"Thank you," she beamed. "You look amazing."
They seemed compelled to lean closer together, which was just a little embarrassing when Kareem literally had to reach out to yank Jughead back into a standing position, a safe distance from the kissing zone. The audience rang out with laughter, while Betty struggled to manage her embarrassed smile.
Clearing his throat, the priest motioned everyone to calm down. After a moment, he clasped his hands together, bible tucked under his arm. "We gather here to unite these two people in marriage-"
Betty felt Jughead's fingers cradle her hands. Flexing her own hands, she quietly laced them together.
And in slow increments, everyone else faded away.
It was just them.
Betty and Jughead.
Wife and Husband.
Forever and ever.
[Word Count: 2,582]
AN: One more chapter to go!
Betty's Wedding Dress: /G45Xu6
Bridesmaid Dresses: /ghysWg
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