Page 114 of Meant to Be

Joe closed his eyes and inhaled. “Yes. Candles covering the altar.”

“Yes.Fillingthe church…” I said. “And the pastor might need a flashlight, too. To read from the Bible.”

His eyes still closed, Joe said, “What’s the season? Summer?”

“Maybe,” I said, imagining a warm breeze coming through the open windows of the church, rustling my bouquet and hair. Or maybe there would be a chill in the air. I’d always loved the idea of a winter wedding with snow falling outside. I could wear a faux-fur stole and long gloves. “Any season could work.”

Joe opened his eyes. “Will there be music?”

“Yes. Of course. But nothing elaborate or loud. No organ. Maybe a vocalist or a violinist.”

“What about a harp?”

I laughed and said, “No. There won’t be room for a harp. The church is too small.”

“Will you wear white?” he asked, looking hopeful, perhaps because he’d recently overheard me telling Genevieve that I loved untraditional wedding gowns—whether short or with color.

“Yes. I’ll wear white,” I said—because it was clearly what he wanted. “But I can’t tell you anything else about my dress. It’s bad luck.”

I smiled, picturing a sheath gown and a simple veil. Maybe just a crown of flowers in my hair.

“Will I wear a tux?”

“No,” I said. “It won’t be that formal.”

“Ah, right…So just a suit?”

“Yes. A dark suit. Perfectly cut.”

“How about the one I bought from you?”

I nodded and said yes that would be perfect, along with a pale blue or silver necktie, perhaps with a hint of shimmer.

Joe stood up from the table and came around to pull me to my feet. “Tell me about our first kiss…as husband and wife,” he said, as his arms encircled my waist.

“It will be perfect,” I said, gazing up at him. “Not too short, not too long. Just right.”

“Should we practice?”

“Yes. That’s a good idea,” I said, closing my eyes. I felt his warm breath on my face and his lips brushing softly against mine.

“Like that?” he whispered.

“Mmm. That’s close,” I said. “But I think we should try again.”

He kissed me a second time, a little longer and harder. “Like that?”

“Oh. Yes,” I said. “Exactlylike that.”

—

The next coupleof months were, quite simply, the happiest of my life. It was also the first time I can ever remember truly enjoying the holidays—at least since I was a little girl, before Chip came on the scene. Joe and I put all of our planning for the future on a brief pause and went full throttle on all the romantic activities that I’d always wistfully watched other couples do.

We went to see the Christmas tree lighting at Rockefeller Center and the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall. We ice-skated at Wollman Rink and went sledding on Pilgrim Hill. We had tea at the Pierre and hot chocolate at Junior’s. We wandered the toy aisles at F.A.O. Schwarz and perused the elaborate winter wonderlands behind the department store windows, from Macy’s to Saks to Lord & Taylor—which Joe referred to as the pièce de résistance of window displays. There was something so endearing about how much he embraced it all, including activities that many denigrated as touristy. Nothing was beneath him, and I fell more in love with every passing day.

—

As we rolledinto the new year, Joe finally resigned from his job and began quietly putting together his campaign team. Meanwhile, I signed up for the GED exam, ordered college brochures, and gave my notice to Wilbur. It was a bittersweet moment. As sad as Wilbur said he was to lose me, he seemed to understand that my current role with the company was no longer feasible. He was over the moon when I told him that Joe and I were engaged.

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