The small wedding pavilion had been raised slightly and set up on lush green lawn beside a lake, fine gold curtains tied to the four sturdy poles that held up the white-painted structure, and the carpet a haunting blue. Guests sat in chairs that allowed a direct view of the pavilion, the decorations along the aisle and around the pavilion simple white splashed with color from hundreds of fresh flowers.
Their scents filled the air.
David stood waiting outside the pavilion, his suit a sharp black with a pristine white shirt and a tie of deep gold. His groomsmen—Fox, Abe, and Noah, plus David’s two handsome younger brothers—were wearing identical suits except their shirts and ties were black.
Sarah ran her eye over Abe. She’d fixed his jacket for him a little earlier, before she came to take her seat between Kit and Diane. Beautiful man.
“We got lucky, didn’t we, Sarah?”
Sarah turned at Kit’s comment to see that the actress’s distinctive amber eyes were on a certain blond guitarist who stood beside Fox. “Yes,” she said, just as lyrical music began to play.
She saw David’s entire face light up as he turned to watch for Thea, and then they were all rising to their feet and angling their heads toward the arbor through which Thea would descend. Sunshine poured down onto it from the other side.
Framed within the light was a breathtaking bride on her proud father’s arm.
Sarah sucked in a breath.
She’d seen Thea during the morning pamper session for the ladies, but this…
Tall and slender, Thea looked like she’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine but for the deeply unsophisticated delight on her face. Her “dress” was actually a sari of rich gold silk shot with metallic threads of vibrant cerise, the neatly fitted blouse she wore beneath it the same cerise. Embroidered bands of gold circled the cap sleeves of the top.
The part of the sari that fell over her shoulder had been lifted up and draped stunningly over her intricately dressed hair, held in place by fine gold jewelry that ended with a teardrop of filigreed gold at the top of her forehead. The way she wore the sari was more traditional than Sarah would’ve expected of the stylish and urbane publicist if she hadn’t known that Thea had taken her grandparents’ views into account.
Sarah had asked Thea if she minded, but the publicist had smiled and shaken her head. “For me, a wedding is about family. I could never hurt my grandparents by not respecting their wishes.” Another beaming smile. “As well as all my sisters and my best friend, I took both my grandmas with me to choose the wedding sari—both of them! My mom too.” She’d shaken her head. “Let’s just say those three women have opinions.”
“Someone with more opinions than you?”
A wink. “Maybe not.” Thea had run her fingers over the sari, her expression poignant. “I love this outfit. It stands for me and for the people who made me who I am today. I could want nothing more.”
Molly, and Thea’s best friend, Imani, walked behind Thea with a number of other family members, including Thea’s two younger sisters—who were smiling hard enough to crack their faces. Everyone wore vibrant color, with Thea having gifted Molly and Imani with saris of deep cerise and indigo blue to wear to the wedding since they were part of the bridal party.
Her aunts had taken charge of putting the two women in the traditional garment.
In her hands, Thea carried a garland of lush pink and white blooms that matched the one David had in his hands when Sarah glanced back to the men.
Thea’s mom had provided the flowers for those garlands. She was also the one who’d tucked lush white blooms behind Kit, Molly, Imani, and Sarah’s ears. And it was Thea’s paternal grandmother who’d lent the bride her earrings of polished seashells. Given her income, Thea could’ve dripped with gemstones, but she wore those old, beloved earrings with pride.
Sarah’s eyes stung as she watched the other woman pass. Thea’s own eyes were only for David; she seemed wholly unaware of the gasps in the audience, of the photos being taken. As at Molly’s wedding, Sarah couldn’t help but remember her own wedding day. Unlike Thea’s elegant sari, her dress had been big and poofy and sparkly, the kind of Cinderella dress of which she’d always dreamed and that she’d thought was the height of fashion at twenty-one.
She bit back a smile as she sat down with everyone else; her marriage might’ve imploded, but Sarah had never regretted that dress.
Thea reached David.
Exchanging garlands, they linked hands and stepped into the wedding pavilion.
The ceremony was simple and heartrendingly beautiful, a blend of the traditional and the new, of David’s cultural mores as well as Thea’s. No one could miss the love David wore on his sleeve—and Thea, this tough, strong woman, she wore her own love for the drummer as openly.