Page 105 of The Lookback

“You’ve always known what we both need, together, and you’ve always been patient enough to wait for me to see it, too. But I think today, on the day we’re getting married, the only thing I need to say is this.” Helen pulls something out of her bodice. “You know that Abby spent four days drafting this up, and then you signed it without reading it. Now it’s my turn to do my part. I never did sign it.” Her lip curves slightly. “But today, I thought I’d do this.”

She takes what is presumably their prenuptial agreement. . .

And rips it in half.

“I don’t need contracts to keep me safe with you. I don’t need to protect my assets, however considerable they are. I had my sister Abby walk me down the aisle, because I hate the idea of my parents giving me to someone. But I love the idea that whereas before I had just her on my side, now I have you as well. I love the idea that our interests have just merged in a way that goes beyond corporations or stock values or anything else.” She drops her hand and entwines her fingers with his. “David Park, I promise that no matter how angry I get, or how scared I am, or how desperate I may be to close a deal, I will always be by your side, from now, until the end of my life.”

David cups her jaw with his hand and kisses her then, the whole audience in awe just a little.

It does feel like the lion tamer just stuck his head in the big beast’s mouth. I’m not the only one holding my breath. But he does release her, his face still intact, and then he starts talking. He never looks away from Helen, but we can still hear him, mostly.

I suppose looking away from a lion is a good way to get mauled.

“Helen Fisher, I’ve been in awe of you since you schooled Professor Sims on the production cost of her sample company on day one of Financial Accounting.” He shakes his head. “We all knew you were something special, but I had no idea quite how special.” He drops his voice. “Or that you’d ever look my way.”

“I almost didn’t,” Helen says.

“Thank goodness that idiot looked so bad that I looked good by comparison.” He runs a finger along her jawline and tucks a hair we can’t see back into the beautiful pile of curls on the top of her head. “You’ve shone like the sun since we first met, and I promise that, like the sun, I’ll always turn toward you as the center of my universe.”

When they kiss this time, it’s pretty epic.

“Get a room,” someone shouts.

It takes me a moment to realize it was their priest.

I’m not the only one laughing about that. A few moments later, when their ceremony’s finally done, Helen says, “Can I just throw the bouquet now? It’s so heavy that I don’t want to carry it for another minute.”

It’s not a shock to anyone in the room when Beth catches it, except for maybe Beth. She’s blushing so furiously that her face nearly matches the roses. Ethan’s family claps so loudly at her success that I almost feel bad for her, but I can’t. Not when she’s clearly being so warmly welcomed by a family that knows how to love outsiders.

If possible, the reception under the large tents outside is even more grandiose, and positioned so that just behind us, the Flaming Gorge is framed up in nearly every photo. With the massive heaters they’ve brought in, I’m not even cold. I’ll give Helen and David this. I know they planned this wedding in a few weeks, but it looks like they spent a year making every detail perfect. I suppose it’s no shock that two people who run resorts can plan a spectacular event.

Even the turkey, dressing, potatoes, and more pies than I could ever count are all perfect.

“I know this is usually my sister’s thing,” Helen says, as she stands in front of a stunning cake almost as tall as she is, frosted with a chocolate so dark it’s nearly black, and decorated with deep red blooms that cascade artfully down one side. “But since it’s my wedding, she says I have to do this.”

Abby’s rolling her eyes from behind the long table laden with exquisite food.

“I was going to hold this wedding a week before Thanksgiving in the hopes that my baby wouldn’t be showing yet.” Most of her business acquaintances gasp, but everyone in Manila has known for weeks. “But then I started to worry that some of you might try to stick around until Thanksgiving.”

People do laugh, which is a relief.

“But seriously, for years, almost every Thanksgiving, I would make the trek from wherever I was, to wherever Abigail and her family were. I knew I was welcome, and she always did all the heavy lifting of making this a holiday that we would enjoy. This year, since she has a baby, I thought I’d take some of the work off her plate.” She spreads her hands wide. “I’m happy all our friends and family chose to be here to celebrate and give thanks for the beautiful life David and I have chosen to make out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” David says. “And as a big thank you for all of you from the two of us, we’ve had the largest boxes we could acquire of chocolate covered cherries placed under every single dining chair.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he says it.

I remember Helen’s generous gift at Thanksgiving. . .that got everyone drunk. It’s also clear that Helen knew nothing about this part of their plan, because at first she looks a little annoyed. But when Abby starts laughing, Helen rolls her eyes.

“I’m sure there will be times I’ll regret getting married,” she says. “We regret even good things now and then—that’s human nature, to second guess. To regret. But when I do, I’ll look back on this beautiful wedding, and the joy David always brings with him to everything we do, and I’ll smile, because this year and probably every other year, being shackled to him is my greatest blessing in life.”

When he kisses her this time, everyone cheers.

And as soon as it quiets down, Gabe shouts, “Uncle David, do the cherries have beer in them this time?” The room is entirely silent, most people probably having no clue what he’s asking. “Or no?”

But as people realize that there’s a prior even the cherries are commemorating, the laughter starts, and it grows and grows.

“These are most definitelybeerfree,” David says. “And when you eat them, I hope they fill you with the same joy I have in this moment.”

And as I stuff my face with some of them later, they kind of do. But what’s even better is that when I grab a blanket and start to nurse Andrew, Althea notices. And she starts to cry. Once Andrew’s done, Will hands her to me so I can hold her up against my breast one more time, as I have done over and over without success.

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