An hour before my wedding, my fifteen-year-old daughter refused to be my bridesmaid and begged me not to marry Marcus. I thought she'd finally overcome her grief, until she told me what he'd said to her when he'd been alone with her the night before.
I almost married a man who had already paid to have my daughter kicked out before he even asked me to be his wife.
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I discovered it fifty-eight minutes before the ceremony, when I was still wearing my wedding dress and my daughter, Lily, was sitting on the floor of the bridal suite, shaking too much to breathe properly.
I had been widowed at forty-two, and for four years it had just been Lily and me. Four years of raising children alone, nighttime fevers, and empty chairs.
Then Marcus came into our lives.
I coached Lily's debate team at the community center. She remembered my coffee order. She called Lily "girl" and told me more than once, "You and Lily are a package deal, Julia. I know."
Then Marcus came into our lives.
I believed him because I wanted to believe that healing could open the door for us.
***
The wedding was small. Just family, close friends, and a dinner in a converted barn. Lily had chosen her own sage-green bridesmaid dress.
She said it made her look like "a forest fairy with student loans."
In the bridal suite, my sister Janine fastened my veil while Lily stood behind me, twisting the silver moon-shaped bracelet that her father had given her when she was ten years old.
“Stop moving, Jules,” Janine said. “I can’t make your mother look graceful if she keeps squirming.”
The wedding was small.
Lily smiled, but quickly disappeared.
I looked into her eyes in the mirror. "Are you okay, honey?"
"I'm fine".
But every mother knows that those two words can mean anything but good.
Janine lowered the hairspray. “Are you nervous about walking down the aisle, little one?”
Lily shook her head. “No. That’s not it.”
"Are you okay, honey?"
“So what is it?” I asked.
She looked toward the door. “I need my silver shoes.”
“They’re in your garment bag, honey,” Janine said.
My daughter swallowed. “Then I need air.”
Before I could stand up, he slipped away.
The door closed with a click.
Janine looked at me in the mirror. “Something’s wrong.”
“I need air.”
CONTINUE READING...>>
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