The Way We Rise

They’re both in the nude dresses we picked out for them, each dress its own unique design.

  “Oh, my goodness. You guys look gorgeous,” I say, fanning my face as I realize I’m going to cry again. “I hope I’ll look as good as you.”

  Misha waves away my compliment. “Girl, you’re going to look a billion times better than us. Where’s your dress?”

  I look around, but I don’t see it anywhere. “Kenny, where’s the dress?”

  “Sid’s picking it up from the shop where we took it to get steamed. He should be back by now. I’ll call him.”

  I look around at the others as Kenny leaves to make the call. “So… where’s Georgia?”

  Troy’s wife was supposed to be here by now to do my hair and makeup. Where the hell is everybody?

  “I’ll call her,” Jenna offers. “My phone is in the other dressing room. I’ll be right back.”

  I sit down on the plush velvet stool in front of the dressing table and watch in the mirror as Misha comes up behind me. “Your makeup looks great. Maybe you should do mine.”

  “She’ll probably do your hair first,” she says, grabbing the paddle brush off the table. “I’ll brush it out so it’s ready when she gets here.”

  I smile and hold up a finger to stop her. “Hold on.” Glancing over my shoulder, I call to my mom. “Can you bring Austin to me? He likes playing with my makeup.”

  My mom sets him down on my lap and he breaks into a huge grin when he sees all the makeup on the table. He laughs as he smacks the mirrored surface of the vanity and reaches for a tube of lip gloss. I have a change of clothes for him and plenty of baby wipes to clean him up, so I let him have at it. By the time Kenny returns, the three of us ladies are in stitches watching Austin paint bright pink lip gloss all over my cheeks.

  “Oh, no. You’re already trying to turn him gay,” Kenny remarks.

  I laugh as I dodge the lip-gloss wand just before it almost goes into my nostril. “He’s destined to be fabulous. Right, Austin?” He smiles at me and giggles when I rub my nose against his. “You love your momma, don’t you? You’re a momma’s boy.” He giggles again. “Can you say momma? Mom-ma.”

  He stares at my mouth as I repeat the word a couple more times. He smacks his lips together a few times before it finally comes, crystal clear and as angelic as I imagined it would sound. “Momma.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Did you hear that?” I say, glancing at Kenny.

  “I certainly did.”

  He says it again and I laugh as I squeeze him in my arms.

  “Your daddy’s gonna be so jealous. He’s not so special anymore.”

  Sid and Georgia arrive one right after the other and I spend a few minutes cleaning myself and Austin up before I hand him over to Grandma again. Ninety minutes later, it’s the moment of truth. Time to see if my dress still fits.

  Kenny holds the dress as I step into it and he carefully pulls it up, being careful not to smear the makeup on my chest. He grabs my hips and gently spins me around so he can zip me up. I consider sucking in my gut, but I won’t be able to hold that position all night, so I just hold my breath and wait. The zipper slides up cleanly and I sigh with relief.

  Kenny claps his hands. “Yay! It’s okay if your baby is born a little on the Kate Moss side, because at least you look fabulous.”

  I roll my eyes as Georgia continues fretting over every piece of hair and every inch of makeup, spraying hairspray and dusting me with finishing powder every few seconds.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I say, pushing her hands away as she attempts to adjust another flower in my crown.

  She steps back to look at me. “Oh, my God. I’m so nervous.”

  Sid rolls his eyes at her. “Honey, go get your husband before he drinks himself into oblivion.”

  Kenny holds the bottom of my dress as I step sideways to get a look at myself in the full-length mirror. He covers his mouth and shakes his head. “You’re an angel,” he whispers.

  “Stop it. You’re gonna make me cry.”

  Sid sighs as Kenny turns away to hide his face. “You heard the woman. Stop it.”

  “Oh, you leave me alone. I’m not your slave boy anymore,” Kenny replies, though he’s already making his way out of the dressing area. “I’ll see you at the altar, gorgeous,” he says, winking at me.

  “We should start making our way up there now. You’re on in ten,” Sid says, adjusting the lapels of his slim gray suit and checking his dark hair in the mirror. “Let’s go.”

  We turn away from the mirror to leave, only to find my dad standing at the entrance of the dressing area.

  Sid flashes me a tight smile. “I’ll be right outside.” He points at the invisible watch on his wrist. “Ten minutes.”

  My dad steps into the dressing area, taking a look around as if he too is having trouble with this new reality we find ourselves in today. He stops a couple of feet away from me and looks me up and down with a proud smile on his face.

  He nods solemnly. “Yeah, this is just as difficult as I imagined it would be.”

  I shrug. “It could be worse. I could be marrying a tree,” I say, referencing a case he refused to take on a few years ago where a woman wanted to sue the state of Oregon for the right to marry a tree she had fallen in love with.

  He smiles, but I can sense a sadness behind it. “I wanted to come here and talk to you before the ceremony to give you a chance to take everything in. I’m sure once the ceremony is over, you’ll want to celebrate and not have to worry about any of this stuff.”

  “Dad, you’re kind of scaring me. Are you dying or something?”

  He chuckles. “No, sweetie, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  He takes a moment to think before he responds. “For forgiving me and letting me give you away.” He smiles as he reaches up and lays his hand on my cheek. “It’s one of those things you dream of doing as a father, from the moment your little girl is born. And there was a long time where I didn’t think I deserved to have this honor. Today, I feel like one lucky bastard.”

  I smile as I try to swallow the painful lump in my throat. “I’m the lucky one, Dad.” I shake my head as I realize there’s no use trying to stop the tears. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be writing something that makes me feel good. I wouldn’t be doing something that makes me feel like I matter. Thank you… for bringing our family back together.”

  He takes me into his arms. “I’m going to try my hardest never to let you down again.” He holds me gently for a while, then kisses my forehead as he pulls away. “I’ve got to go take my position, but there’s one more thing I need to do.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key ring with three keys dangling. “I didn’t want to wrap these in a box and have you open them in front of everyone at the reception. I didn’t think it would be fair to everyone else.”

  “What are they?”

  He smiles as he places the keys in my hand. “They’re the keys to the house my investment company bought four weeks ago in Lake Oswego.”

  “Your investment company?”

  He slides his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Houston’s a good man. He’s an excellent father and I have no doubt he’ll make a great husband. I know this because he already knows something important about being a family man, and that’s the importance of sacrifice.” He smiles that knowing smile again, as if he has a secret. “Someone once told me that you can’t hide behind self-pity as an excuse for being a bad parent.” He holds his hand up to stop me from interrupting him. “Wait. I’m not calling you a bad parent. I’m saying that you can’t pity yourself for having to move to a beautiful suburb. You have to do what’s best for Austin, no excuses. Are we clear, young lady?”

  I sigh as I realize my dad is right. “This is what you and Houston were discussing last night?”

  He nods. “There are times when you have to make tough decisions for the sake of your children’s future.” He reaches up and
pinches my chin. “Even when they’re twenty-six years old.”

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

  The moment he’s gone, Sid is back and he looks annoyed that my conversation with my father has us running late. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he insists as he waits for me to freshen my makeup. “They can hold the music a few more minutes.”

  He looks a bit nervous as he helps me into the elevator. The elevator doors open onto the roof and I’m surprised to find my mother is standing there with Austin in her arms.

  She gasps when she sees me and it startles Austin. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was going to get his bottle.” She claps her hand over her mouth. “Look at you.”

  Sid shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. You have to go sit down, Grandma.”

  She rolls her eyes. “If he starts crying in the middle of the ceremony, it’s your fault,” she says as she stalks off through the lilac arch, past the rows of guests to her seat in the front.

  Sid touches a button on his headset and speaks into the microphone. “Roll tape.” He looks over my hair and dress one more time and nods with approval before he speaks into the microphone again. “Cue music.”

  The speakers, which have been pumping out “Air (on the G string)” by Johann Sebastian Bach, go silent as I make my way toward the arch, where the wedding party waits for their cue. And then it comes. The band, which has been waiting patiently on a stage about forty feet behind the last row of guests, begins to play “Best Day of My Life” by American Authors.

  As rehearsed, Jenna and Misha begin skipping down the aisle arm in arm, singing along to the music as the guests cheer and clap. Then Kenny and Troy link arms and walk down the aisle together, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd. Then I have to hold back my tears as the dog trainer gives Skippy a treat and points at Kenny and Troy. Skippy gallops after them, stopping right in front of Houston at the altar. He licks Houston’s face as Houston unclips the ring box from his collar.

  My dad grins as he sticks out his elbow, and my heart races as I slip my arm through his. Every step we take down that aisle feels less and less real, until I’m almost there and I feel as if I’m floating. Houston’s wearing a boyish grin when I get to the altar, and the moment I see it I’m filled with relief. I still don’t know what the hell I’m going to say when I get up there, but I know now that it doesn’t matter.

  I turn to my dad and his eyes are watery as he leans in to kiss my forehead.

  “I love you, sweetheart. Go be happy.”

  The tears start and Houston chuckles as he reaches down to help me up the two steps onto the podium. “I want to say my vows first,” I whisper to the minister so as not to get picked up by the microphone hanging above us.

  He looks a little taken aback by the change in plans, but he takes it in stride. I try to pay attention to what the minister is saying as he talks about love and commitment, but my mind keeps drifting to what I want to say. Finally, the sound of someone clearing their throat gets my attention. It’s the minister. He nods at me and I realize this is it.

  I draw in a deep breath as I look into Houston’s blue eyes and my hands begin to tremble. “This will probably surprise everyone except for Houston, but I haven’t written any vows for today.” There’s a small rumble of laughter and at least one gasp from the guests. “But,” I continue, directing my attention back to Houston, “in my defense, I’ve probably written my vows for this wedding about a thousand times since I first laid eyes on you.”

  I try not to laugh when there’s a collective awww from the crowd.

  “As I tried to write my vows, I couldn’t pinpoint one single thing about you or one single moment that made me realize I was in love with you. Then I tried comparing what we have to some of the greatest love stories: Jane and Rochester, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Ana and Christian…” Houston lets out a hearty chuckle along with the guests. “I could write a thousand sonnets and essays and chapters and none would come close to capturing the warmth I feel when I catch you sneaking food to Skippy, or how safe I feel when I’m lying in your arms, or how joyful I feel when I see you playing with Austin.”

  He smiles as I take a moment to compose myself. “Take your time, baby.”

  I smile as I wipe the tears off my chin before they can drip onto my dress. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that there are no words to describe what it’s like to fall in love with someone the moment you see them. And to have that love returned with as much honesty and passion as the way you’ve loved me back, there are no words to describe it other than… You’re not just the love of my life, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” I take a deep breath as I look into his eyes. “No friendship, no love.”

  It takes everything in me not to kiss her right then and there. Part of me thinks, Hell. We’re already breaking the rules by letting her say her vows first. But then I think about how this is Rory’s day as much as it’s mine. I want to make sure that when the minister says, “You may now kiss the bride,” it’s as epic as she’s always imagined it would be.

  I clear my throat as I suddenly feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Well, not to brag or anything, but I’ve been writing my vows for a long time, too. And mine have been done for over two months.”

  She shakes her head as she laughs along with the guests.

  “But I must admit, it’s kind of daunting having to come second to that. Of course, that’s one of the things I love the most about you, your ability to string words together and make them into something more beautiful than even you can comprehend.” I squeeze her hands lightly as she smiles bashfully. “It’s a gift, and one that makes me proud, not just to be with you, but also to know you.”

  I let out a deep sigh as I prepare to say the vows I’ve been memorizing in my office for months. “Rory, when I imagine my future stretched out before me, where I’ll go, what I’ll do, where I’ll live, it’s all hazy except for your face. There’s nothing I know for certain other than how much I love you and need you. For the rest of my life, I want to share every important and utterly insignificant moment with you.

  “I want to inhale the scent of your skin after a rainstorm. I want to watch from the doorway as you put our children down to sleep. I want to see the sunlight glimmer on your hair as you’re watering the garden. I want to hear you laugh too loud after you’ve had one too many beers. I want to see you cry tears of joy when your first book is published.”

  I reach up, brushing my thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “You’re probably wondering who helped me write these wedding vows.”

  She lets out a congested chuckle as she nods.

  I smile as I gaze into her eyes. “You did.” I pause, relishing the look of confusion on her gorgeous face. “You’ve changed me, Rory, in more ways than I can count. You’ve made me a better man… A man who knows how to quiet a screaming baby. A man who worries about his dog while he’s away at work. A man who listens not just to the words you say, but to the way you say them. A man who knows how to write wedding vows.”

  She bites her lip as she tries not to laugh.

  I lean forward and plant a soft kiss on her forehead then whisper, “This is how the story ends, with a promise of forever. I love you, Scar.”

  I take her face gently in my hands and look at the minister for the cue.

  He clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

  I plant a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. She laughs as she turns her head away to stop my embarrassing display of affection.

  Then she leans in and whispers in my ear, “That was the answer I wished for: How does it end?”

  I grin as a surge of joy-fueled adrenaline floods my body, and she yelps as I scoop her up into my arms and shout, “I killed Mufasa!”

  Troy jumps off the podium and falls to his knees as he wails at the sky, “Nooooooooo!”

  Skippy tackles Troy, smothering him with kisses as Rory gently pummels my chest and demands I put her down.


  My mom stands up from her seat in the front row and points at me. “Put her down, Hugh.”

  I laugh as I gently set her down on the podium, so as not to mess up her dress. “You ready to watch the rest of us get drunk, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”

  Rory rolls her eyes, but she can’t wipe the stupid grin off her face. “Only if I get to pour the beer into the beer bong, Mr. Cavanaugh.”

  “Deal!” I say, and we fist-bump before I grab her hand and we set off down the aisle.

  The guests all reach into the drawstring bags they received upon arrival, pulling out handfuls of barley to toss at us as we walk past them. We make it to the lilac arch without getting any barley in our eyes, and as soon as we walk through the arch, the band starts playing “Evergreen” by Broods.

  We all retreat down to the first floor for the reception. Once everyone is seated for dinner, and champagne has been served, Troy arrives at the long table reserved for the wedding party with a six-pack of cold beer. He sets two down in front of me and hands one each to Kenny, Jenna, Misha, and himself.

  I smile as I hold up my two beers so Rory can see the labels. “Houston, we have liftoff,” I say, reading the new label on our Barley Legal Double IPA. Then I read the label on our summer ale. “Into the Northern Lights.”

  She smiles and shakes her head as she watches the waiters going around with trays of cold beer on offer to the guests. “Do they even know this is a sexual innuendo?” she says as her mom accepts one of the beers and takes a long swig.

  “They’ll figure it out,” I say, reaching over to stroke Austin’s face as he lies peacefully asleep in Rory’s arms.

  Troy and Kenny both give highly embarrassing toasts in the middle of dinner service, then we all manage to stuff down at least one slice of the most expensive and delicious cake ever. By the time we head back upstairs for more dancing and drinks, the rows of guest seating have been replaced by a dozen tables that take up half the area on the roof. The other half is covered in a wooden dance floor and stage for the band.

  The sun has almost completely gone down, painting dramatic swaths of billowy pink clouds across the western horizon. In the east, the stars are twinkling as they get ready to make a dazzling entrance. And here in the middle, on a rooftop in Portland, I feel high enough to touch the sky.