Prompt #39: Summer Destination Wedding

Cursed

~oOo~

If one more damn thing goes wrong, she thinks, we are officially cursed.

Elliot hovers anxiously in the doorway, eyes trained on her for her reaction. His face is creased, the picture of concern, hands clenched in front of him. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet and looks torn between wrapping her in a huge hug and staying by the doorway so he can pretend everything's okay.

She feels so bad for him that she forces a smile onto her lips.

"Hey, El, come on. It's fine. We'll just…put up a tent or something."

"A tent?" he echoes incredulously, and she knows it's a ridiculous idea because where are they going to get a tent at this late stage? But he fixes his tone quickly, giving her a nod. "Yes. A tent. Good idea."

She almost wants to giggle. He's clearly so on edge, but the thought of upsetting her further is doing him in. "Besides, they say it's good luck."

"What's that?"

"Rain on your wedding day," she replies with a smile, and he seems to relax a moment before his brow creases worriedly again.

"Rain, yes. But Liv…this is more than a little rain."

She glances out the window, where the skies are still blue. "Tell me again what they mean by 90% chance of a monsoon?"

~oOo~

The trip had been a disaster of epic proportions, so far.

Firstly, they'd arrived at the airport to discover Lizzie's passport was expiring in three months and they wouldn't let her on the plane. Hysterical tears and wails that she was going to miss her father's wedding ensued until the airline employee managed to break through her sobs, direct her to the emergency passport website and rebook her on the flight for the following day.

Next, it was discovered that their plane had technical faults requiring urgent repair, leaving them all stuck in the airport lounge for an eight-hour delay. Noah's Switch went flat and he'd packed the charger in his checked baggage, Eli ate some bad egg-fried-rice and was locked in the bathroom for an hour, and Maureen's kids quickly grew overtired and ratty, fighting incessantly over everything from whose turn it was on the iPad to whose feet were bigger.

By the time they finally boarded, everyone was exhausted and shitty with one another, and the fact that the plane's entertainment system was down only added insult to injury. Olivia took her window seat, pulled out her book, and tried to ignore every member of her extended family for the six-hour flight.

Two of their suitcases stayed behind in New York (thankfully not the one containing Olivia's dress). The resort was overbooked and Kathleen didn't have a room. Richard quickly discovered the bartender working the pool bar was his ex-girlfriend and spent the rest of the day hiding behind whoever was closest. By the time they'd made it through cocktails and dinner, Olivia was ready to fall asleep on her feet.

They escaped back to their room – the bridal suite, at least, was beautifully decorated with stunning views over the beach – and barely even managed to undress themselves before collapsing, exhausted, into bed.

Let the wedding week begin.

~oOo~

The storm clouds roll in with surprising speed, darkening the day and dumping bucketloads of rain onto the resort.

Olivia stands at the window, hair, and makeup done, wrapped in a white silk robe, glaring at nature.

There's a knock at the door behind her, and Maureen pokes her head in with trepidation. "Hey. You okay?"

Olivia sighs. "It's not meant to be monsoon season. I checked."

Maureen slips inside. She's wearing a bathing suit with a pair of denim shorts over the top. "I know. The guys down in the restaurant are all talking about how bizarre it is to get this weather now. Lizzie's on a rant to them about climate change. Poor guys will wish they never opened their mouths." She smiles. "You look beautiful, Liv."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Olivia turns back to the window. She can see the spot on the beach where the staff had set up the arbor and chairs for their small ceremony. It's being battered with rain. "Wish I'd thought of a plan B."

"We'll figure it out. Don't worry." Maureen's calm voice soothes her, and she gives her a grateful smile.

"Your dress was in one of the lost suitcases, wasn't it?" Olivia suddenly remembers.

"Yeah." Maureen shrugs one shoulder. "Nothing of Lizzie or Kathleen's will fit me. Guess I'm wearing a gift shop sarong to your wedding."

Olivia moves across to the wardrobe, where Elliot had painstakingly hung up all her clothes when they arrived. She'd laughed at him, told him not to bother, that she could just pull things out of her suitcase when she needed them, but he ignored her, quietly sliding dresses and tops onto wooden hangers. Now she searches through them and finds what she's looking for.

Her black floral dress, the one with the sleeves that come to the elbow and the slit up the front. She'd worn it to Fin's not-wedding, had packed it at the last minute even though she wasn't sure it would be cool enough to wear it. But the temperatures have dropped significantly over the past hour, and now it seems like the perfect choice.

"Here." She hands it to Maureen, and her eyes light up. "You can wear this, if you want."

"Liv, this is beautiful. Are you sure?"

"Of course. I won't be wearing it." She grins.

"Speaking of…" Maureen glances at the open wardrobe, where Liv's dress is concealed in a white bag. "You want some help getting ready?"

"Oh, it's just a simple…I mean, I can put it on myself…" A knock on the door interrupts her protests and Kathleen and Lizzie barge in. They're each holding a bottle of champagne.

"Liv! Good, you're not dressed yet!"

"We've come to help," Lizzie announces, already picking at the gold foil around the top of her bottle. "I know you said no bridesmaids, Liv, but come on. This is all part of the fun!" She finally gets the foil off and twists off the wire. "Let's have a drink!" And she barely touches the cork before it pops enthusiastically from the bottle, hitting Olivia directly in her left temple.

~oOo~

"Dad?" Richard knocks on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, it's open." His father is standing by the window, fiddling with his shirtsleeves. Rich steps into the room, nodding at Eli and Noah where they're stretched out on their twin beds, reading. His father turns to him. "How's Liv?"

"Uh…good." He can hear the lie in his voice. "I just saw Lizzie in the hall. She's…good." Just saw Lizzie making a mad dash for the ice machine to put on Liv's injured eye, truthfully, but he's not about to tell his father about the cork incident. "How are you?"

Elliot sighs. "I forgot my shoes."

Richard can't help the snort of laughter. "What?"

"My shoes. For my suit. I must have left them behind."

"Oh, shit." His gaze falls to his father's feet. "So you're wearing…flip-flops?"

"It's all I have."

"Dad, you can't marry Liv in flip-flops."

Elliot gives a loud groan. "You don't think I know that? I've been to the gift shop, there's nothing there!"

"So wear my shoes!"

"I'll never fit into your shoes!"

"Jesus, Dad." Rich shakes his head hopelessly. "We're the same size. Have been for years now." His dad looks at his feet in surprise, and Rich laughs again. "Not a teenager anymore, remember?"

"Obviously." Elliot looks at him. "If I take your shoes, what will you wear?"

Rich grins. "Flip-flops."

~oOo~

The photographer is running late.

The florist can't get out of her shop, blocked by rising flood waters from the monsoon.

The only available indoor space to shift the wedding to is the restaurant, which is currently full of guests eating their lunch.

Olivia takes each new piece of information with grace but can't stop the feeling of dread that's rising within her each time there's a knock on the door.

Surely it shouldn't be this hard to get married?

She hadn't even wanted the wedding, of course. She'd have been happy with the courthouse. It was Elliot who insisted, Elliot who told her she deserved more than a perfunctory service in a building where they'd spent years watching rapists put away. And the more he talked about it, the more brochures he showed her and research he did, she started to get swept along and get excited. And now here she was, on a tropical island thousands of miles from home, trying to get married in the middle of a monsoon with no flowers, no photos, a black eye and…Jesus, what is Rich wearing on his feet?

He catches her looking and grins. "Don't ask." He steps closer. "Hey, that looks much better."

"Right?" Kathleen caps her bottle of concealer and holds up a mirror. "Can barely tell."

Olivia sees that she's right – the bruising from the cork is mostly covered now. Lizzie appears back in the room, dripping wet, holding an armful of frangipanis. "Liv. I'm sorry…so sorry about your eye. I picked these." She proffers the flowers. "We can put some in your hair, and the rest can be a bouquet."

The flowers are creamy-white and yellow, and utterly beautiful. Droplets of rain still cling to them but she brings them to her nose anyway, inhaling the fragrance. "Thank you, Lizzie. These are gorgeous."

Lizzie sets to work pinning some of the flowers into her hair as Maureen returns, dressed in Olivia's floral dress, looking lovely. "How's Dad?" she asks her brother. "And why are you wearing flip-flops? You know what, don't tell me. I don't need to know." She looks at Liv. "Okay, the last few tables are finishing up in the restaurant. The staff have brought the arbor inside and set up the chairs." She turns back to Rich. "Go tell Dad that we're just about good to go."

Olivia feels a flutter of excitement in her belly at Maureen's words. "Good to go," she murmurs and gives Elliot's children a wide smile. "Good to go."

~oOo~

Olivia walks down a makeshift aisle in the middle of the resort's restaurant to tinny music played from Kathleen's iPhone, because the monsoon had knocked out the sound system.

Elliot stands at the arbor, watching her come towards him. Rich's shoes pinch his toes and intermittent drops of water leak from the roof and splash onto his shoulder.

None of it matters.

She takes his hands, gazes into his eyes, and sees nothing there but pure, long-lasting, worshipful love, and feels every annoyance and inconvenience of the disastrous trip slip away.

He can't wait for the celebrant to give the declaration but instead pulls her to him for an embrace before they've even said their vows.

She promises to love him, to steady him, to guide him for the rest of his life. He vows to spend every last one of his days on this earth making her happy as she truly deserves to be.

Noah and Eli step forward, awkward in their suits, to hand over the rings. Elliot's hands are shaking so badly he nearly drops hers.

But at last, the rings are on, and the celebrant has declared them husband and wife, and Elliot has taken her in his arms and dipped her for a kiss while their children clap and cheer.

And in the end, every moment of it was perfect.