You wouldn't think working at a hardware store would dominate your life but guess what, it does. Thanks for being so patient, thanks for being so supportive and encouraging. You guys are the best reviewers ever.
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She smoothes the fabric of her navy blue dress down again and looks around anxiously. She is standing partially hidden by a tree but can still see the multitude of people already gathered in front of the gazebo, sitting in the carefully aligned white rows.
She closes her eyes and lets out a small pant of breath, willing herself to calm down. She has walked down an aisle before, has walked down a flight of stairs in front of over a hundred people, and has made speeches in front of her graduating class. She doesn't know why but right now she is terrified, nervous even, and it isn't even her wedding.
But it's her mothers and her mother has wished for this day for so long, with every fiber of her being, and she is just so terrified of messing it up, even in the most miniscule way. With a misplaced step or a tripping bridesmaid.
She opens her eyes again and her arm is dangling loosely by her side, the bouquet of flowers Sookie put together the night before bright in contrast to her dark dress. Almost all the chairs are full and she can feel her heart pumping in her chest. She knows the moment is soon. The moment she has to walk down the aisle and carefully take her place behind her mother.
She closes her eyes again and forces herself to be rational. It is just a twenty foot walk down the aisle. And heels aren't that difficult to walk in, especially when those heels aren't more than an inch off the ground. For Pete's sake, running in two inch heels to catch a last minute cab in the rainy New York streets takes more skill than this.
She thinks she just may throw up or faint or curl up in a ball and die when she feels a hand on the small of her back and a familiar voice in her ear.
"You know, you look real enthusiastic."
She opens her eyes and lets out a deep breath, her shoulders slouching as she looks at him. He is smirking at her slightly, his hands shoved deep in his suit pockets. She squints at him and tilts her head.
She doesn't think she has ever seen him look like this. Not only is he wearing a nice suit with his normally out of control hair combed back neatly, but there is a glint in his eye and he just looks happy. Happy because Luke is happy. Happy because everyone around him is happy.
Except her. Because she feels like she is going to die. Collapse and die in anticipation of her ultimate failure of tripping at her mothers dream wedding and landing in a heap, most likely with her dress above her head, in front of everyone she has ever known. Ever.
Her eyes are wide and pleading as his eyes search her face. He almost nods to himself (barely a jerk of the head) and stands right next to her, offering up his arm. She looks down at his arm and then back up to his face where he is looking at her expectantly, eyebrows (both this time) raised.
"But you are supposed to be standing next to Luke."
"It's not like I'll be walking you to Chicago. We just happen to be going to the same place." He nudges her with his elbow. "Come on, I'll be right here."
She smiles because he understands. He understands why she is so nervous and terrified right now. She lets some of her apprehension melt away and slides her arm through his, straightening a bit as the music starts up front close to where Luke stands. He gently squeezes her hand as they take the first step.
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She can feel his gaze on her. She always could, even when they first met. She can feel the hum in the air conducting his intense concentration. She looks up and meets his eyes across the table and raises an eyebrow. He smiles softly and tilts his head to the side, in the direction of something. She follows the tilt and looks back at him, actual shock on her features, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He rolls his eyes slightly and she giggles, causing some of their tablemates to glance in concern. She sobers and stands. He follows.
One hand loosely rests on her hip and the other takes her hand. She is still giggling and he lets out a small sigh.
"I do not see what is so funny."
She tries to stop as she rests her hand on the lapel of his jacket but it only causes her to giggle a little louder. He gives her a look and she smiles brightly at him.
"I've just never seen you dance, let alone offer to."
"What can I say? I'm a changed man." He is smiling but she can see it falter slightly and his eyes darken a bit. She can tell he is remembering what he was, who he used to be. She nods a little and smiles at him (reassuring him) and he holds her gaze, returning the soft smile, his hand gently squeezing hers.
It's a moment of reconciliation, a moment of forgiveness, a moment of healing. Finally, something between them acknowledging the past and how they were both hurt, both had scars just barely healed across their hearts. It is silence, but it is a look, a smile, a squeezed hand. They never needed words.
They sway to the music, her fingers tracing imaginary patters on his jacket. She feels his hand tighten slightly on her hip and she leans closer to him, where she can feel the warmth of his skin and his breath on her neck. She lets her forehead fall forward until it is resting gently against his and her eyes close on their own accord.
"I'm glad you saw me when I was sitting on the pavement clutching an orange."
She feels the shift in the air that accompanies his smile. "I'm glad too."