Page 64 of Let It Breathe
Reese ran a finger over the frames, wondering what it would be like to collect a lifetime of memories with the person you knew with absolute certainty had been put on the Earth just for you.
“We’re in the family room, honey,” her mom called, and Reese tore her gaze off the photos.
She moved toward the back of the house where the scent of fresh popcorn and citrus furniture polish was heavy in the air. Stumbling over something in the hall, she looked down to see her old tricycle there. She toed the front wheel, remembering her parents walking hand in hand behind her as she pedaled as fast as her chubby legs could go trying to keep up with Axl on his motorcycle.
She stepped around the trike and halted in the doorway to the family room. Her parents were curled up on Axl’s old sofa, a shared blanket and a bowl of popcorn between them. The flicker of the TV drew her attention to a grainy video that was all too familiar.
“Look, sweetie,” her mom said, smiling up at her from the couch. “It’s our wedding video. Have you seen this since we had the old film reels digitized?”
Reese leaned against the doorframe and smiled back. “Only about two hundred times, but I think it’s been a few months.”
“Smart aleck,” her mom replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at her. “Want some of this?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Reese held out the folder she’d brought with her, and her mom reached out to take it. “We’ve got a printout of the e-newsletter, a direct-mail postcard, and a second press release about the Memorial Day event.”
June flipped open the cover of the folder and whistled low between her teeth. “Wow, this looks nice. I like the font you used here.”
“That’s all Larissa. Did she tell you she’s been cold-calling women’s wine groups around the country, encouraging them to pre-book girls’ getaways for next year?”
“That’s exciting,” June said. “Any takers?”
“A few. Larissa offered discounts for anyone who booked a year in advance.” Dread churned in her stomach. “We just need to make sure our lodging gets done in time.”
“It’ll happen, honey. Have faith.” June went back to reading the newsletter, so Reese let her gaze drift to her dad.
He sat riveted to the television, smiling like he hadn’t seen this wedding video a million times, so Reese turned her attention back to the screen. She watched as her youthful father lifted her mom’s veil and kissed her with an intensity that made Reese want to look away.
She didn’t, though. She might have seen this a million times, but she could never stop staring, or stop wondering about a union with such absolute certainty, such devotion, such love.
“My favorite part is coming up,” her father said.
Reese bit her lip, disgusted with herself for feeling envious of her own parents. “You mean the part where Axl uses the unity candle to light farts at the reception?”
Her dad laughed. “No, that’s not for a few more minutes. It’s the part where your mom sees the inscription on her wedding band for the first time.”
Reese nodded, picturing the words in her mind and remembering the way she used to trace her finger over them as a little girl.
I call dibs.
Her parents’ private joke. On their very first date, June had called dibs on the cherry on Jed’s banana split. Jed had spooned up the cherry, offering it in exchange for dibs on June’s evening plans the next night. And the night after that.
They’d laid claim to each other again and again, drifting into the blissful ease of knowing they belonged to one another. With each shared breath, they radiated it. I am yours and you are mine for as long as we both live.
Reese watched the screen as her young mother’s gaze swept over her ring, then filled with tears. As Reese looked on, newlywed June looked up at her new husband with an adoration that took Reese’s breath away.
They make it look so easy, she thought as she gripped the back of the sofa. Then and now.
Her mom patted her hand, and Reese looked down to see June watching the screen, her finger resting on the newsletter to hold her place. “Aren’t you a handsome thing!” June exclaimed, moving her hand from the page to squeeze her husband’s knee. “Honey, isn’t your father a handsome thing?”
“My father is a handsome thing,” Reese parroted, earning herself a good-natured swat from her mom. She kept her gaze on the TV, watching as the scene shifted to the reception and to her father dropping to one knee and hitching up the hem of her mom’s wedding dress.
“I still have that garter in my cedar chest somewhere,” June mused. “The guy who caught it gave it back to me after the reception. Said he felt awkward about having it.”
Reese snorted. “What could possibly be awkward about pocketing the undergarments of another man’s new wife?”
“Oh, stop,” June said, laughing. “You never were very sentimental.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m divorced, huh?” Reese said, struggling to keep her tone light. “I never got schmoopy over garters.”
