Page 124 of Lost Love on 6th Street

Dogs don’t make good ring bearers, but they sure are cute.

I already have enough to be stressed out about today, and now my darn, effortlessly adorable dog is fumbling down the aisle toward me, zigzagging to get pats from the people on either side. He gets caught up with one of the guest’s kids,

who he’s enchanted by since they’re close to him in size.

I squat down as best I can in my suit pants and clap my hands at him. “Come on, Frankie!”

Frank’s body alerts and he hurries over to me, shoving himself up against me, blonde hairs attaching themselves to my black suit.

They’re right about pets being good for cortisol levels. The second I lay my hands on him, I realize how badly my hands have been shaking. My nerves settle, if only for a moment, and I focus on giving my dog all the love for the work he’s done. “Good boy, buddy.”

Sure, the weather turned out perfectly, a balmy seventy degrees, not too hot and not too cool. I shouldn’t be sweating bullets and yet I am, the nerves grinding through me without any sign of stopping. And, yes, the setting is perfect. Claire offered up the perfect patch of land at the sanctuary the second she learned Eleanor and I were engaged. A weeping willow swoons above us, serving as an almost natural altar. From time to time, you can hear the barking of dogs down the hill as they romp around in the field.

Everything is perfect with a capital P, and yet I am vibrating with the anxiety of the next moment.

I thought I’d be fine. Who cares? It’s just a wedding? Eleanor and I are basically married. We live together, our lives completely entangled in every way. This is just another day. Right?

Wrong. Dead wrong.

Frank goes in for face kisses, and I have to hold him back. “Easy, boy! I’m saving my lips for someone else!”

There’s laughter from the guests and, thankfully, Claire rushes over, navy bridesmaids dress and all, and grabs Frank by the harness. She chides him for stealing the spotlight and gives me a smile over her shoulder before returning to her place in the grouping of bridesmaids.

I pat my knees and push myself back up to standing. The second I do, the music shifts, and my stomach drops. The good kind of drop, like the kind you get on a rollercoaster.

It’s happening. It’s really happening.

All the guests rise in preparation for Eleanor’s entrance. I try to steady my breath. Is it hot out here, or is it just me?

Everyone acts like the bride is the one who is doing all the work, walking down the aisle, but I’ve been standing up here with eyes on me for what feels like hours. I’m more than ready for the star of the show.

As I wait for Eleanor to appear from the tent at the end of the aisle where she’s been hidden for far too long, I scan the faces of those who have come today to celebrate, landing on the face of my mother in the front. She’s already gone through half a box of Kleenex. Beside her is an empty seat where my father would be.

“I love you,” I mouth.

She only smiles bigger, though the tears keep coming.

Yeah, that will be me pretty soon.

The tent flaps part, and Eleanor emerges on the arm of her father. As if in a movie, a breeze washes across all of us, fluttering through her wildflower-adorned curls. I don’t know where to begin with how fantastic she looks. Her dress is simple and elegant, classically her. The sleeves are fluttering over her shoulders, lace appliques dancing down the front.

She could have worn a paper bag and still be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Eleanor and her dad walk down the aisle, thanks to the stylings of Bobby Sutton and his band. The jazziest wedding march you’ve ever heard.

From beside me, Randy holds out a handkerchief.

“Dammit, man,” I say. “I’m trying to hold it in.”

He just grins.

I snatch the handkerchief and dab at my eyes just as the tears are about the fall. I can’t stop smiling so hard it hurts, but the pain is completely irrelevant to how perfect this moment is. I never thought I’d care this much about my wedding, and now here I am.

I guess that goes to show you what it means to meet the right person.

Though I’m tired of being up here alone, I could live in this moment forever. Eleanor walks toward me, ready to join me in stepping into our future.

When Eleanor and her dad arrive at the end of the aisle, it takes everything in me not to grab her and kiss her until her glasses are foggy. But I’m a gentleman and this is our wedding day. I’ll have forever to do that.

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