Three and a Half Weeks(197)
As soon as we reach the French doors, the music picks up volume to trumpet my arrival. Oh, God, this is horrifying. As soon as I spot Ian, I will glue my eyes to him so I can’t see all the people. Just him. Just Ian. I can do this.
And then my ivory satin shoes are on the white aisle and I can see him. Ian. He’s the most gloriously gorgeous groom on the face of the planet. Standing tall in his fashionable tuxedo, his brother Nathaniel beside him, Ian’s eyes are trained on mine and, yes, I feel empowered. Now I have a purpose to my walk: I need to get to my husband-to-be in one piece. I pace my steps to the music and head for those mesmerizing eyes. Watching me closely, he smiles and that gives me all the confidence I need.
Chapter 53
She glides into his line of sight, a vision in ivory satin and he almost gasps. God, Ella, you look stunningly beautiful. Outwardly, he’s a study in coolness—years of practice honed in front of boards of directors, and media cameras and microphones thrust in his face allow him to appear impervious. Inwardly, his heart is blasting a jungle tempo as savage as if Dave Grohl is in there pounding on his drumset.
Ian and his two brothers emerged from the house a few minutes ago to find the guests already seated and waiting in the sea of white grosgrain-beribboned chairs. The lawn looked like a green carpet leading to a magical forest befitting of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with pinpoints of white light twinkling in all of the surrounding trees, though the sun had not yet set, and wildflowers sprouting from giant clay pots all around the circumference of the yard, the woods surrounding the property.
Leave it to his mother to create a fairyland out of dirt and grass in just a week or so. The huge awning-covered terrace off the main house was set up as an elegant, candlelit gathering area for cocktails and canapés, while the formal dinner would be served in the big white tent, with tables arranged to encircle the huge dance floor. Right now they were on the long expanse of velvety lawn. The chairs were arranged in a semi-circle (a good idea swiped from Derek Girardi). The three men in black tie waited for Ella, Mariah, and Zoe under an arbor, the lattice of which was entwined with vines of white-flowering Morning Glory, the all-day blooming variety.
He watched as first Zoe came toward him, her face barely disguising her merriment, as if she were ready to burst into laughter at the slightest provocation. When she reached her brothers, she made a silly face at Ian, obviously trying to upset his comportment but, pro that he was, he remained statue-like. Frustrated in her attempt, she took her designated place opposite Quentin. Mariah was next down the aisle, looking properly somber, as if it could have been a funeral as easily as a wedding. The thought almost made Ian laugh. Mariah stood next to Zoe, opposite from Nathaniel, his best man. He looked at the two aubergine bridesmaid and maid of honor dresses and thought Ella chose very well. The cut of the dresses suited the women who wore them splendidly.
Ian barely heard the music as Ella came into view. She seemed to float down the aisle toward him, in the most beautiful wedding gown he’d ever seen. His nervousness disappeared with her appearance, and now he was just impatient for her to be officially declared his wife.
His wife.
And then she was there in front of him and he took her hand.
Toward the ceremony’s close, they each read a few lines of poetry to each other that help express their feelings. Ian recites his first, a poem by Henry Dumas, entitled Love Song.
After a moment of silence, Ella, not as publicly inclined as Ian, begins her recitation in a soft, halting voice. She recites 100 Love Sonnets XVII, by Pablo Neruda.
After the simple poetic lines, quiet descends for moments as they look into each other’s eyes. The moment feels profound to everyone there, as if a spiritual communion is taking place, sealing the vows they just spoke. After a few moments, the reverend takes their hands in his own, looking out at the crowd of onlookers, and says with a smile, “I now pronounce Ian and Ariel husband and wife. Ian, you may kiss your bride.”
Ella did opt to wear the small half-veil over her face so when the reverend pronounces them, Ian turns to her with a beaming smile and lifts the veil. She winks at him, knowing that only he could see it and they kiss lightly. The audience applauds with decorum as the bride and groom turn toward their guests, radiant with love or maybe just relief that it’s finally over, to walk back up the aisle, this time as a married couple. They stop at the end of the aisle, where they are joined by both sets of parents, forming a line to greet each guest personally as they exit the outdoor chapel. This part will take a while, since over four hundred people are in attendance.