Page 64 of How Much Wine Will Fix My Broken Heart?
‘You all right?’
‘Is this too quick? I had a feeling that maybe this was too quick. Jag always sensed my uncertainty and I think he thinks I feel uncertain about him. But it’s not. It’s getting married again, it’s the girls. It all feels so quick.’ She exhales loudly and slowly.
‘We don’t have to do this. We can tell the registrar to go and then just have a fancy well-dressed lunch,’ I suggest.
‘But…’
‘It’s all paid for…’ I say, finishing her sentence. It does feel nice to have another fiscally minded sister as part of our clan. I pull her out of the cubicle as she looks into the mirror and adjusts the wispy bits of hair around her forehead.
‘Do you love Jag?’ I ask her.
‘Very much so.’
I like how those very words bring her peace, how they fall out of her mouth with zero hesitation.
‘Then don’t waste any more time. Marry him.’
She knows where this comes from. Tom and I always said no regrets but, if I could turn back the clock, I’d have hesitated less. I’d have travelled with him, married him sooner. I’d have created more memories of him by my side.
‘Is Mum fuming? I’ve not seen Mum.’
‘She’s fuming because she’s not got a fascinator and Beth did her hair and made her look like Hillary Clinton.’
Emma giggles uncontrollably.
‘This feels different to when I married Simon,’ she says thoughtfully. I don’t like her mentioning her ex’s name today of all days. Hell, all us sisters still refer to the man as Satan for all the hurt, lies and absolute shittery he put Emma through, but I understand why he’s in her train of thought.
‘Because, deep down, you knew Simon was a cock?’
‘Perhaps. I had that big poofy fairy dress on, remember? I thought I had reached some life’s pinnacle of marrying another surgeon and that was my life done. Happily ever after.’
We both examine our reflections in the mirror. I guess we all think that at some time but life is never quite done with us. There’s always a plot twist, a sequel, a bonus chapter. Five years ago, could any of us predicted that we’d be standing here now, doing this?
‘Now, I feel a bit older, a bit wiser. Like I know what I’m letting myself in for.’
‘You did get old…’ I tell her.
She hits me playfully with her bouquet.
‘You got braver too. You’ve allowed someone into your life again, been re-educated about what love is. You don’t know how happy Jag makes us,’ I tell her. ‘If you were marrying another Simon, Lucy would be having words, you know that, right?’
‘She’d already have stabbed him. We’d be taking it in turns to visit her in prison.’
‘This is true.’
She turns to face me. She’s the tallest of the sisters so is about three inches above me. When Tom died, Emma was the sister who was there that day. She held my body up as it collapsed to the floor; she explained everything to me in plain medical terms to help my understanding of how Tom was leaving us: how he would draw his last breath, how he would have been feeling. Strangely, I needed that, to think of things in that organic sense. Even when Emma was going through the pain of her divorce, she put that all aside to offer her knowledge, her support. I hope Jag heals you, Ems. I hope this next chapter is glorious.
‘When did you get so wise, Gracie?’ she asks me.
I look at her in confusion.
‘You’rethe surgeon. I was reminded by Lucy today that she also has two degrees and a master’s so she has all the smarts too.’
‘Bull,’ Emma replies. ‘None of us went through what you did. I would take all of that away from you in a second, but look what a beautiful soul it’s made you. You know more than all of us combined.’
My eyes glaze over to hear her say that out loud. The door suddenly swings open and Beth runs in, tossing her bouquet at me.
‘This baby is literally juicing my bladder like an orange.’ She scampers into a cubicle and we hear a long stream of wee hit the loo. ‘And I don’t know what you two are doing in here but Meg is going to put Lucy in a headlock soon and I’m too pregnant to get involved in that fight. Hurry the fuck up.’
