"I, Jonathan, take you, Melissa, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."
"I, Melissa, take you, Jonathan, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."
The small chapel was bursting with flowers, candles, and dozens of friends and family members all infected with the hope and goodwill a wedding inspires. Tulle and bows bedecked each pew, white roses spilled from ivory vases, and the fragrance wafted through the sanctuary on the warm breeze from the open doors. Melissa was the focus of all attention as she stood next to Jonathan, the beaded embroidery of her gown's bodice giving way to a satin skirt that fell in straight lines to the floor. Her dark hair was a mass of curls held in place by seemingly invisible pins, culminating in a rhinestone tiara and fingertip veil.
Angela sat in the small chapel and watched her son – looking every part the prepared groom in his white tuxedo – begin his own family. Next to him stood her husband as best man. Though she longed to have Tony beside her, holding her hand as her baby was married, she saw and felt all she needed when their eyes met and they stared lovingly at one another, their hearts burning with the memory of their own wedding vows finally taken after so many years.
Their eyes turned back to the bride and groom just as they placed matching gold bands on the rightful finger, and the tender notes of Shubert's "Ave Maria" signaled a prayer of meditation. Angela met Tony's eyes once more, and her heart constricted with the wave of emotion that overtook her. She loved him in ways she never imagined possible, and to see him stand by her son on this most special of days was just another in a long list of reminders of how lucky she was. Yet another reminder – Charlotte – was sitting contentedly on her lap as Katie slept blissfully in her carrier beside Mona while Samantha and Hank performed their roles as bridal attendants. Next to Tony, Billy stood with the other groomsmen, proud to be sharing that title after a brief fear of being demoted to ring bearer, something the nearly twelve-year-old considered himself far too old for.
The soulful notes faded softly, giving way to a final blessing and the much-awaited presentation of Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan and Melissa Bower. Applause erupted as the minister gave Jonathan the go-ahead to kiss his bride, and less than thirty minutes after Melissa processed down the aisle on her father's arm, the new husband and wife were dashing back down to the waiting limousine. Seconds later, Tony was beside his wife wiping the tears from her cheek and laughing and crying with the whole of the congregation.
The reception followed the predictable progression from receiving line to dinner to bridal dance to cake cutting to bouquet toss. It was a whirlwind of activity that was garnished with random congratulations and endless mingling with guest after guest. Within an hour, there was a pile of high heels behind the bridal table as all the women traded in their formal shoes for the comfort of satin slippers.
In between greeting the endless parade of guests, Angela felt like the director of an elaborate Broadway production. She consulted with the DJ over the volume of the dinner music, then gave the bartenders permission to order an extra bottle each of champagne, brandy, and white wine to account for an unexpected shortfall. She caught sight of Maureen Randall talking to the caterer and checked in to make sure all was set for the dinner buffet only to learn that Melissa's grandmother had forgotten the silver, heirloom server set for the cake, in Massachusetts. Calling on a decade of friendship, she asked her right arm at work, Jack, to make an emergency run to any department store that was open to get a replacement, much to Maureen's relief. For her part, Melissa's mother was just as harried as Angela, and after giving the okay for the buffet to begin, she and Angela decided they were both in need of some of the newly-arrived Chardonnay.
From their perch in the far corner of the room, the two women surveyed the banquet hall with equal parts fascination and nostalgia. Angela caught Tony's eye as he adjusted Jonathan's boutonnière that had come loose during the hundreds of hugs he'd given and received throughout the day. They smiled at each other in that warm, comfortable way of married people, one look that said, "Oh, there you are, I was looking for you and miss you. I love you, and I'll get over to you just as soon as I can." And as quickly as that, Tony was swallowed up by a group friends come to congratulate him.
Angela looked over at Maureen and asked, "Where did Peter disappear to?"
"Oh, he's over there," she said, pointing toward the buffet line where Peter Randall stood with about six elderly women around him. "His aunts," Maureen explained. "Peter's father was the only boy among six girls, and those women still dote on Peter as if he were their own."
Angela laughed and then turned to place her empty wine glass on the bar as Maureen excused herself to save her husband from his cheek-pinching relatives.
Intending to seek out Tony, who had finally found five minutes to sit with Mrs. Rossini, Billy and Charlotte, Angela left her spot and took two steps before she caught sight of a familiar form striding toward her. Save for the hair that was now more salt than pepper and a few more lines around his eyes that somehow added to his handsome appearance, Michael Bower looked exactly as he always had. She was actually a bit surprised to detect even those subtle signs of his fifty-four years, sure that his California lifestlye would have included regular appointments with a cosmetic surgeon. But knowing Michael, he probably enjoyed the respect and confidence his more distinguished veneer afforded him.
"Hello, Angela," he said smoothly as he reached the spot where she stood watching him.
"Hello, Michael."
"Nice wedding."
"Yes, it is."
"How have you been?"
"Fine. And you?"
"Fine."
And that was it. Neither knew what else to say. They were married for nine years and shared a son, but were complete strangers. But being the consummate host, Angela pulled on her reserves of tact and diplomacy to make an effort to be friendly. After all, it was at her insistence that he was there. "Have you spoken with Jonathan?"
"Yeah, we talked for a few minutes. He's grown into quite a remarkable young man. You've done a wonderful job with him, Angela."
"Thank you. I can't believe he's grown and married already."
"I know. And I hear you're starting all over."
"Yes," she confirmed, looking over to where Tony sat with Charlotte on his knee gnawing on a cookie. "Tony and I are adopting a young boy and his cousin. Their grandmother died in June and we've had them ever since."
"What happened to their parents?" Michael asked, genuinely curious.
"Billy's parents were died several years ago. Car accident. And Charlotte's mother passed just after she was born."
"Well, Tony looks pretty comfortable in his role as a father again. Didn't his daughter just have a baby too?"
"Yes, little Katie."
"So your daughter and granddaughter are about the same age?" he asked with a raised eyebrow at the unusual situation.
Angela couldn't help but smile and nod. It certainly wasn't your average course of events. They talked a while longer, and Michael told her about his production company's new agreement with Animal Planet, and she told him about the growth of the Bower Agency. And then he surprised her with the unexpected pronouncement that he was glad to see Tony standing next to Jonathan in the church.
"Angela, I know I wasn't there for Jonathan when he was growing up, and I'm glad you were able to find someone to be a dad for him. He needed one, and I wasn't there."
Angela didn't know what to say. While she wasn't willing to offer absolution, and doubted he expected it, she could at least confirm his supposition: "Tony has been wonderful to Jonathan, and to me. We were very lucky to find him."
"Well, my best to you both on your new family. Those two kids are real lucky."
"Thank you, Michael."
He bent down to kiss her cheek, but before he could leave, a new and somewhat unfamiliar sense of goodwill had her asking if she'd see him before he went back to California.
"I'm going back Wednesday. I have some business in New York this week."
"Well, you're welcome to join us for dinner one night."
"Are you cooking," he joked, remembering her ardent but doomed attempts to produce more than boiled water.
"No. Tony doesn't let me."
"Then maybe I'll take you up on that offer. Enjoy the evening, Angela."
"You too, Michael."
She watched his back as he was swallowed up by the crowd on the dance floor to apparently give Jonathan an impromptu lesson in the Electric Slide. She smiled as the groom humored his father and joined in. Making her way to the family table, where Tony was warning Billy to stay away from the bridesmaids' spare pantyhose and makeup stashed under the bridal table, Angela collapsed in a chair and accepted the heaping plate of food from Mrs. Rossini.
"Hey beautiful, where've you been?" Tony asked.
Between forkfuls of parsley potatoes, chicken Francese, asparagus spears, and rigatoni, she filled him in on her conversation with Michael.
"It's weird Tony. I've barely spoken to him in a decade, no more than brief greetings at graduation ceremonies and a few phone conversations about Jonathan's visits to California over the years. And suddenly, it's like we've made our peace. I mean, we've always been civil – friendly even – but I could never shake the frustration and tension I always felt around him. Until tonight. Weird."
"Weddings have a funny way of bringing out the best in people."
"I guess so."
"I'm happy for you Angela. It's no secret Michael's never been my favorite person, but I'm glad you got some sense of closure, or resolution, where's he's concerned."
"Good, because he's coming to dinner next week."
"What?
But before he could press her for an explanation, the DJ announced it was time for the best man toast. Caught unaware, Tony stumbled for a few seconds before recalling the eloquent words he'd agonized over for this very special moment. When the hall quieted, he began:
"Jonathan, you've been everything I ever could have wanted in a son of my own, and I'm honored to have been allowed to play that role in your life from time to time. Melissa, I hope you know you were a member of our family long before you said those vows today. And to the both of you, always remember how much you love each other at this very moment, and you'll never have anything to worry about. You have two hundred people right here in this room who believe as much as you do that you belong together, and so we all raise our glass and wish you both the life you deserve together. To Melissa and Jonathan …"
Nary a dry eye remained, least of all Tony's, as the guests raised their glasses and toasted the newlyweds.
The cake cutting was followed by Melissa's dance with her father, which brought another round of tears. And then Angela heard her name being called to join her son on the dance floor. Later, Tony would have to remind her of what song was playing, because she wasn't able to think of anything except how handsome and grown up her son was. Then the man was gone and she was looking at a little boy with mischievous eyes that were the reflection of her own, poker-straight blond hair that needed trimming, and one crooked front tooth peeking from behind a smile that melted her heart. A blink of her eyes brought her back to the present and the grown man who would always be her little boy.
Angela wasn't ready for the DJ to bring the moment to a close and was startled when the harsh sounds of "Y-M-C-A" jarred her out of her reverie. Jonathan whispered a last, "Thank you Mom — for everything," before his groomsmen dragged him into the throng of people who had swarmed the dance floor.
It seemed that the party went on and on. By ten o'clock, every one of Angela's muscles and joints ached, and as she gingerly lowered herself into a chair, she realized she may not have the strength left to get up again. By that time, the guests had thinned significantly, and only Jonathan and Melissa's closest friends and family remained. Most of them were crowded on the dance floor copying Tony's steps as he taught a bunch of WASP-ish surbanites how to do the Tarentella, a traditional Italian wedding dance. Feet flew and hands clapped as everyone circled around Melissa, who was being spun from person to person at a dizzying speed.
Angela marveled at Tony's endurance. He hadn't stopped moving all day and looked as though he could dance another few hours. She suspected it was sheer adrenaline that had Billy keeping pace with his new father, and several members of the bridal party, including Sam and Hank, looked as though they were ready to pass out from exhaustion. Jonathan, however, could light up the room himself. Angela didn't think she'd seen him spend five seconds away from Melissa, whose expression was a mirror image of her new husband's. They looked exactly as every couple should on their wedding day, carefree, blissful, and silly in love.
Katie and Charlotte had been taken home by a doting Mrs. Rossini, who had insisted on being the designated babysitter. Angela had gratefully accepted the offer – as though she had a choice – and was now offering a small prayer of thanks that she could fall into bed without having to care for the baby.
But bed was still a ways off. Looking around the room, she noticed that the extra food had been packed up and was waiting on the buffet table, and the caterers were beginning to box up the remains of the cake and cookies. Deciding that the threat of not getting a piece of cake outweighed her sore feet, she eased herself up and limped over to the table. She barely got the fork to her mouth when the head of the history department at Ridgemont came to make his good-byes, saying Tony looked like he was having too much fun to interrupt, but he wanted to let them know what a great time he and his wife had had. Angela thanked him graciously before Sam's childhood friend Marcie — now Dr. Marcia Ferguson-Kennedy — came up to say hello and explain that her father and stepmother were vacationing in St. Tropez and couldn't make it.
A few more people stopped by on their way out, some were colleagues, some were relatives of the Randalls, and some she had never seen before. The parade of people throughout the day had been so constant that Angela felt lucky to be able to recall the face of her own mother when she appeared seconds after Angela took her second bite of the delicious banana nut confection that she'd been holding for twenty minutes.
"Way to go Angela. Great party," Mona began, looking as regal as she had that morning.
"It is, isn't it. But it's going to take me a week to recover."
"Tony looks like he's having more fun than the bride and groom. I'm fairly close to admitting he's danced me under the table."
"As I live and breathe ..." Angela said with shocked smile at her mother.
They continued chatting about the day and exchanged words of praise on each other's dresses. As tired as they were, both still looked stunning. In fact, standing next to each other, they were perfect complements, Angela in navy blue and silver, and Mona in solid, deep maroon.
The vision was not lost on Tony, who had finally left the dance floor — but not for long. The reception was quickly winding down, and Tony was going to end the evening with his wife in his arms.
Without saying a word, he walked up to Angela, took her hand, and with a nod to Mona, led her back to the dance floor. Angela's feet put up a noble fight, but her heart won the battle as Tony spun her toward him, clasped his hand low on her back, and brought her into perfect harmony with his movements.
Jonathan and Melissa shared the last dance to the soft crooning of the Righteous Brothers "Unchained Melody," as their parents and the rest of the bridal party joined in. Not a soul present could disagree with the soulful words, least of all Tony and Angela, who swayed in oblivious bliss as a roomful of envious eyes looked on.