Page 49 of One Little Chance
DECEMBER 21ST, 2023
I’d attended a few of the Silks’ Annual Christmas parties back when we were dating. It was a big deal that I got invited back then since it was a big tradition for Jordan’s cousins and aunts and uncles, and his dad’s cousins and aunts and uncles, and some oftheircousins and aunts and uncles. Honestly, for most of the parties, I was just trying to remember people’s names and how they were related to Jordan.
Every December 21, all the extended relatives come to a big Christmas reunion party. It was a big deal if someone brought a date. It was an even bigger deal to attend the day before our wedding. Especially our last-minute wedding that we’d invited people to only six days ago.
This big party always took place at Uncle Andy’s house. He was a cotton farmer with a big farmhouse with more than enough room to fit everyone. He had a patio perfectly styled for entertaining, a tennis court that people danced on and where kids played Red Rover, and a pool that the teenagers were always daring each other to dive into. Jordan dove in once when he was twelve and wound up with a cold that Christmas.
We walked inside, and before we’d taken two steps into the entryway, his Aunt Belinda squealed, “There’s the bride-to-be!” immediately scooping me into a hug.
“White Christmas” crooned through the speaker system, there were ten-foot trees plopped around the house with shiny red and green bulbs, garland looped over the windows, and people were lined up at tables full of potluck dishes. Kids raced around underfoot.
“You hungry, Rogers?” Jordan asked over the hum of Christmas music and chatter.
“Always.” I pointed toward the line for food.
In line, we were asked about the wedding. Then over heaping plates of brisket and baked mac and cheese, we retold the story of how we got back together a few times to a few different people. We were really perfecting how to tell it, and throughout the day, people who couldn’t make the wedding were slipping us congratulatory cards.
Near the end of the party, everyone congregated around the shiny black piano in the family room with tall windows and even taller ceilings, to sing Christmas carols. My back was against Jordan’s torso with his arms crossed over my chest. We were belting out “The First Noel,” and I had to repress a chuckle because this was like something out of a Christmas movie, this tradition of theirs.
But then, I realized it wasmytradition now, too. This wasmyChristmas party now. I’d be invited every year. Today, I was getting a glimpse into the loud, delicious, slightly rambunctious, cheesy future. My kids—our kids—would one day spill hot chocolate on Uncle Andy’s couch and wrap Aunt Melinda up in a big hug as she breathed in their sweet toddler smell and help me carry in trays of Christmas cookies I’d made for the potluck.
I nestled in deeper against him, and he let out a grumbly hum I could feel through his chest.
“You ready to go?” he whispered.
“Let’s stay for one more song.”
Chapter 24
DECEMBER 23RD, 2023
Aunt Sue
Snow??
Aunt Frances
Is this weather okay with your outdoor wedding???
Me
It’s more than okay!
Better than if I planned it myself.
Iwoke up the morning of my wedding to a rare December snowfall in Sweet River, Texas. The grass and trees outside were blanketed in fresh, glistening snow. Like a wedding gift from God himself.
Our impromptu wedding was supposed to be small and intimate, but we both kept inviting people we ran into throughout the week, especially during the Silk Christmas party. I peeked out my mini blinds into the snow-laden park across the street. It was bursting with over half of Sweet River.
The park where last spring Coach Jordan asked Miss Sophia to have coffee with him was now filling with our friends and family to watch us sayI doas the sun set low in the sky.
Chairs were looped with twinkle lights. The aisle was lined with flickering lanterns and a trail of white rose petals that led to Jordan. Our childhood pastor stood at the end of the aisle. Half of his laugh lines were caused by our childhood antics. An old friend strummed a guitar as people took their seats, and the first of the wedding party gathered at the end of the aisle.
As I looked out at the wedding waiting across the street, my breath hitched in my throat. In minutes, I’d be walking across those petals to Jordan. I let the blinds snap closed, placing my hand against my heart to steady myself.
“Sophie girl, are you ready?” my dad asked, appearing in the doorway to my bedroom. “We’re almost up.”
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I said, “I’msoready.” I could run down that aisle.
