Things seem to settle down for him after a couple of months had passed, and it made me wonder how many families went through these things. I couldn’t imagine the horrors of what he saw and lived through, and tried to be patient and calm, letting him adjust. Only, just when he’d seem to be doing better, he’d have a relapse and turn inside of himself again, not wanting to socialize or talk about things.
Chapter 23
As time wore on, he seemed to settle back into a pattern, and over time we started planning the details of our wedding. We’d chosen a semi-local beach, a simple ceremony with a handful of people, and we both wanted to be dressed nicely but barefoot. We’d write our own vows and start our lives together. Austin would move in with me, and he’d let his apartment go. I had more space at my home, and we hoped to eventually get a small house together.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to wear at first. I had a picture in my mind of what I wanted, but was having trouble finding something that looked how I wanted. It was hit or miss, and finally after almost giving up hope, I stumbled on the perfect option.
I know so many little girls visualize their wedding gown, and want to be princess perfect. They want to see a look of adoration in their man’s eyes, one that says you made the perfect choice. I hoped I’d make a decision that showed he was happy I was the one he’d chosen. I longed for that look, knowing as he saw me in my wedding dress for the first time, that there was nobody in the world he wanted more as his wife. I know, it’s a silly illusion, a dress can’t do all of that, but we always hope it will.
The dress I found was a lovely antique white piece, almost offering a champagne colored tint. It was strapless and tea length with tulle beneath the skirt. The satin bustier portion of the dress fit me perfectly, and there would be little to take in or let out. It wasn’t traditional, but it was perfect and similar to what I was looking for. Getting married barefoot in the sand, I didn’t want a gown length wedding dress.
His parents agreed to come willingly, but I wasn’t holding my breath that his mom would behave. At this point, I just avoid her as much as possible. Austin’s younger sister was there too, giving me a chance to finally meet her. You’d think we’d have made the effort beforehand, but Austin said he wasn’t super close to her, since they were easily 8 years apart in age. He loved her, but they didn’t share a lot in common, other than parents.
Maggie looked a lot like her mother, but was a little warmer – only a little. I wouldn’t say we’d be best friends, but at least she didn’t bite my head off the moment I met her. I could see that Austin adored his younger sister, and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when he saw her. I bet if they were closer in age, they would have been great friends growing up together. I was glad she was able to make it, it meant a lot to Austin.
While Maggie was mostly polite, she did get a snarky comment in. She was definitely her mother’s child. I cringed when she made the comment that I was a lovely bride, but you should have seen Emily. Now she was a gorgeous bride. I almost wondered if her mother put her up to that. I could tell the women in Austin’s family were not going to be my biggest fans. Were they protective of him, or was there something about me? I just didn’t get it, and promised myself to spend as little time with them over the years as possible.
My parents were there too, and I just hoped they didn’t clash with his folks too much. I held my breath and just prayed everybody would be on their best behavior for our special day. I hated that what was supposed to be my special day had me stressed out on top of it all, hoping our parents wouldn’t be an issue. We should have run away and gotten married alone. I had visions of our parents brawling in the sand. Sure, I know I exaggerated it in my head, but do you blame me?
Heather and Scott would stand for us, and of course Jake and his latest girl would be there as well. That was all that we wanted - a small affair, our closest friends, and our family. Of course my mother was horrified I wouldn’t be inviting Aunt Sally, and swore my grandmother would never forgive me, and what about second cousin Ginny, and so on and so on. I let her ramble on, and gently reminded her that this was my wedding to plan, not hers.
She took it well enough, but added a layer of guilt that she was so skilled at. I was sure my Grams would enjoy the pictures and understand we were keeping it small. Though who knows, if my mom is this good with guilt, she had to get it from somewhere.
When the day arrived, standing before our friends and family, we said our vows. Thankfully the weather held out, and when we exchanged rings and finally said our do’s, Austin leaned forward and kissed me. I was his wife, and he was my husband, a blessed union indeed.