Page 43 of Livvy


  “I can’t wait to see her,” I say.

  “When you get to the hotel, just go up the elevator on your right to the top floor. Our room is the suite on the left.”

  “Thank you, Jon,” Emi says, sounding relieved and excited. “We’ll see you soon.”

  A few minutes later, we’re pulling up to the hotel, which definitely lives up to its name. A man greets us as soon as we get out of the car.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Holland, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Right this way.” He leads us to the elevator Jon had instructed us to use and accompanies us to the top floor. After we exit the space, he gestures toward the room on the left and steps back into the elevator before the doors close.

  Emi wastes no time. The door is cracked, but we knock anyway.

  “Come in!” I hear Livvy say. I push the door open for my wife, anxious to surprise our daughter. Emi stops walking three steps in, dropping the present she was holding and gasping. I lean over to get the gift, and see Livvy standing in front of the wall of windows, her back to us. The sunlight streams past her, highlighting the full gown she’s wearing. It looks like she’s emerging from soft clouds. Her long hair is pulled up, held in place by pins and small blue flowers.

  I prod Emi forward, anxious for Livvy to realize we’re here. “Contessa?”

  “Yeah, Daddy?” she asks, her voice altered by a catch in her throat. She finally turns around, her smile even brighter than the white dress she’s wearing.

  It’s a wedding dress.

  Emi rushes to her while I stand, unable to move, staring at the beauty that faces me. Livvy hugs her mother tightly, her eyes watering and glistening and watching me intently.

  “Surprise,” Livvy whispers softly.

  “What is this?” I ask, still confused, still frozen as my heart aches in my chest.

  “Jon and I are getting married tonight,” she says, unable to hold back her emotions any longer. Always the first to comfort her, I’m compelled to hold her in my arms. She meets me halfway across the room, arms stretched and waiting for the embrace. “Oh, Daddy,” she sighs.

  When I close my eyes, a tear drops quickly from each of them. I don’t ever want to let her go, realizing that it’s now time. I hear Emi sniffling, and open my eyes tentatively to try to read her expression. I’m overwhelmed, and things don’t typically overwhelm me. Emi, on the other hand...

  Seeing her crying in front of the window, I release Livvy with one arm to wave Emi toward me. I hear a click to my right, and realize she was standing back while a photographer captured this moment with my daughter.

  “You’re what?” I ask, still astounded, letting her go. She pulls the handkerchief from my jacket pocket and wipes her eyes carefully with it. Emi joins us, running her hand up and down Livvy’s bare arm.

  “Will you walk me down the aisle, Dad?”

  “The surprise is on us,” Emi says, obviously just as taken aback as I am. “Honey, you look so beautiful.” My wife breaks down, and Livvy wipes the tears away for her.

  “You guys can’t cry!” Livvy says. “They spent an hour making me look like this, and this ceremony’s supposed to happen in fifteen minutes.”

  “Fifteen minutes?” I ask. “We only have fifteen minutes?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fifteen minutes to hear, get used to, and accept the fact that you’re... that you’re...” I’m at a complete loss for words. That you’re leaving us forever. That you’re all grown up now. That you don’t need us anymore. I put my hand over my heart. “...that you’re the most exquisite sight I’ve seen since my own bride met me at the end of an aisle... and began her life with me.”

  “Daddy,” she coughs out, more tears coming from both of us. She hugs me again. I never want to let her go. I try to hide my emotions from her, but the second I sniff back the tears, Livvy stills. “Daddy, don’t,” she says, her voice little more than a squeak as she begins to cry. I realize I have to hold it together for her. I do my best to wipe away the evidence before pulling away.

  I look at Emi, her smile peeking through the bittersweet tears. I’m simply unprepared for this moment. I don’t like being unprepared.

  “Tessa, why would you keep this from us?” I hold her hand as Emi tucks a strand of Livvy’s hair back into a clip.

  “Are you mad?” she asks.

  “Of course not, sweetie,” Emi says. “It’s just a lot to spring on us, that’s all.”

  “We didn’t want to burden you with any of it.”

  “You two planned all of this on your own?”

  “For the most part,” she tells us. “Matty knew.”

  “Son of a–”

  “Dad!” Livvy laughs, cutting me off. “You know Matty will always side with me.”

  “Most disloyal brother a man could have,” I say with a smile. “Just Matty?”

  “We told the rest of the wedding party last night at the rehearsal dinner.”

  “You had a rehearsal dinner without us?” Emi asks.

  “Yes?” Livvy answers. “But the only people there were the ones with an actual role in the ceremony. Clara, Lexi, Katrina, Kora, Camille, Bethy, Holland, Finn, Fred, and... and.. our brothers,” she says quickly.

  “Jackson?!” I exclaim. “Your brother knew last night and kept this from us?”

  “The boy will do anything for a bribe,” she tells me, shrugging her shoulders.

  “And the man who has to steady you as you walk down the aisle isn’t playing a role?” I ask, feeling a little left out.

  “You’ve walked down an aisle or two before, Dad,” she reminds me. “You just have to hold my arm as we walk down the path between all the chairs. I think you can manage that.”

  “I’ve never done this with my daughter. My heart and soul... you overestimate me, Contessa.”

  “Oh, Daddy, I just wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, that you did.”

  “Are you happy for me?” She looks unsure of our answer.

  “Tessa, love,” I say, taking her other hand in mine and admiring the beautiful young woman she’s become. “I couldn’t be happier that that boy is finally making an honest woman out of you.”

  “Dad, how old does Jon have to be before you stop calling him a boy? He’s twenty-seven, you know.”

  “Oh, sweetie!” Emi says, reaching for the present we’d brought her. “Happy birthday!”

  “Yes,” I laugh, having forgotten the whole ruse that got us here. “Happy birthday. Happy adoption day. Happy wedding day. It’s a happy day.”

  “Speaking of the boy,” Livvy says, “he’s in the hallway. Could you–”

  “I’ll let him in–”

  “No!” both of the women shriek.

  “He can’t see me!” my daughter cautions me.

  “Who’s he here to see, then?”

  “You, Daddy.”

  “Good, I’ll strangle the kid.” Livvy glares at me as I walk toward the door.

  “Man, Dad.”

  Emi and Livvy shuffle toward the bedroom to make sure my daughter will be concealed when I open the door.

  “Good, I’ll strangle the kid, man,” I tease her.

  I have no words for Jon when I see him standing in the hallway. Sure enough, this person who stands in front of me in his black tux and white tie, tidy hair and clean shave is not a boy anymore. He hasn’t been one in awhile, but I can always remember back to that confident seventeen-year-old boy who was thoughtful enough to ask me if he could take my Livvy out on her first date. I think I knew that day that he would be the one who would later be asking my permission to marry her, and I knew he’d be the one to meet her at the end of that aisle.

  Honestly, I couldn’t be happier it’s him.

  Jon steps aside as I exit, looking apprehensive. I just shake my head at him, waiting for him to make the first move.

  “Well?” he asks. “Did you suspect anything?”

  “Not a thing. I’m still in absolut
e and utter shock.” He pulls his hand from behind his back, offering me a drink. “Thank you.”

  “You made us promise to wait until we could provide a comfortable life for ourselves. We’re finally there,” he says earnestly. “The wedding was the last bit.”

  “We would have paid for the wedding.”

  “I know,” Jon says. “Olivia and I considered that at length. I owe you so much, though, from your generosity over the years. I thought this would be a good start.”

  “You give my daughter a lifetime of happiness, Jon, and you’ll never owe me another thing. You’re the only person who can give her that, so I’m counting on you.”

  “I will do that.”

  “Did you have to forego anything to make this happen?”

  “No, Jack. That’s why it’s taken us awhile, but she’s getting everything she dreamed of today. It’s her day. The last bit was you two, and once I told her your flight had landed yesterday, she has been pretty carefree about the whole thing.”

  “Good,” I tell him.

  “Well, there was one thing...” he tells me. He fishes in his pocket, handing me the ring I had given Emi when I proposed to her. While it suited her those many years ago, she felt it was too flashy to wear now except on special occasions. “Livvy wanted to wear this in the ceremony. Matty snuck it out of your house. I hope that’s okay.”

  I admire the green stone and touch the small butterfly made of diamonds. It has a whole new meaning for me today as I think of handing Livvy over to this boy–this man–and letting her flutter off into their own happily ever after.

  “It’s her something borrowed.”

  “And the something blue?” I ask him, knowing the traditions.

  “I gave that to her the day I proposed. I’m a planner, Jack.”

  “Yes, you are,” I laugh. “I’m glad you are.”

  “Anyway, I have to go. I have a wedding to go to.”

  “Right, right.” He reaches out to me, offering me his hand. I shake it, but then pull him into a hug. “Be good to her, son.”

  “I will,” he answers tentatively before letting go.

  “That’s what I want to hear,” I assure him.

  “Okay,” Jon says with a smile, backing away from me. “Remind Olivia I love her?”

  “I’ll do that. And you can tell her yourself in a few minutes.”

  “Five minutes,” he says, checking his watch.

  “I’ll take my time,” I tell him.

  “Right,” he answers with a nod, getting into the elevator. I glance at the ring one last time, hoping I can find the right words to say to my daughter in these last few minutes together. Five minutes. I sigh, returning to the room, and Livvy and her mother meet me in the main living area once more.

  “Is he okay?” Livvy asks.

  “He’s fine,” I tell her with an assuring smile. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not really,” she answers, but the way she’s rubbing her hands together signals otherwise. I take a seat on the couch, patting the cushion next to me. Emi sits in the chair beside us as Livvy carefully straightens her dress and lowers herself onto the couch.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I tell her. With the exception of the photographer flashing some pictures, the room is totally silent. “Can we have a moment?” I ask the man with the camera.

  “Daddy, I want to preserve these last few minutes,” Livvy says, her eyes pleading.

  I nod, accepting her desire to keep the photographer present. “He’s making me nervous,” I joke with her.

  “My apologies, Mr. Holland,” the man says, moving to a position where he’s not so present in my vision. “Is this better?”

  “Thank you.” I take Livvy’s small hand in mine and look her in the eyes. “I’m at a loss for words, Tessa.”

  “That’s not possible,” she counters.

  “It’s happened once or twice.” She pats my knee, encouraging me. “I hear you’re without a borrowed something.”

  She nods, but looks at Emi. “I am, but Mom said I could wear her bracelet.”

  “Something borrowed and something old,” my wife says, running her thumb over the silver plate etched with my grandmother’s initials, which are also Emi’s. She wore it as her something old in our own wedding.

  “That’s good,” I tell her, producing Emi’s original engagement ring from an inner jacket pocket, “because we don’t want you borrowing this.”

  Livvy looks at me, surprised. “Matty said he couldn’t find it!” she exclaims, reaching out to hold the ring but stopping before she touches it. “I can’t borrow it?” I shake my head slowly. “Okay,” she says, not understanding why.

  I turn slightly, taking Emi’s hand and turning it so her palm is facing up. I place the ring in it, and she wraps her fingers around it. She signals to the bracelet, though, and I unclasp it from her wrist and turn back around to Livvy.

  “Now this,” I tell her, “you can borrow today. This will eventually go to Bethy, but today, we would love for you to wear it.”

  “Thank you,” Livvy agrees, but her smile is still unsure. I clasp the bracelet around her wrist.

  “Something old and something borrowed,” I reiterate.

  “I guess I’m set,” she says. “The dress is new. My engagement ring is blue.”

  “Well, wait,” I say. Emi hands me the green ring back. “Would you still like to wear this one?”

  “Of course,” she says. “I love that ring. It’s beautiful and it reminds me of the love you always have for one another. You set such a good example for me, Mom and Dad. But you just said I couldn’t have it.”

  “No, I said you can’t borrow it. Your mother and I want you to have this. This was always going to be our gift to you on your wedding day.”

  “I couldn’t take it,” Livvy says, tearing up. “Dad, you chose that for Mom. You said it was her.”

  “Which is why we want you to have it,” Emi says. “Honey, it’s not practical for me to wear these days, but it’s too pretty to sit at home in my jewelry box–”

  “Yes, and why wasn’t it in the safe?” I interrupt, knowing its value. It was likely one of the most extravagant things I’d ever bought.

  “Jacks,” my wife says, shaking her head at me. “Focus. You’re daughter’s about to get married to the man of her dreams.”

  “And we have precious minutes remaining,” I remind myself.

  “I’m not dying, Dad.”

  “I know,” I laugh, appreciative of her wit in this heavy moment. “Olivia Sophia Holland...” Her name hangs in the air. “I’ll miss the sound of that.”

  “I’ll always be a Holland, Dad.”

  I sigh, still unable to come up with the words of wisdom I’d always hoped to give my daughter when it was time to let her go. In truth, she’d probably gotten more than her share over the last twenty-three years, but I still feel as if I’m failing her in these last few moments with her.

  “I hope this ring always reminds you to love with all of your heart,” I say to her. “To be honest in your needs and wants. To be loyal to him. To be considerate and gentle, humble and forgiving. To be a great and steadfast partner to this... this man you’ve chosen to be your husband.”

  “Ahhh, so he’s not a boy anymore,” she whispers, her voice stolen by obvious emotions. I slide the ring on her middle finger, next to the engagement ring she now wears on her right hand.

  “These are the things your mother and I promised to one another when we were young and in love. The ring was a good reminder... but eventually, you’ll wake up and realize you don’t need that reminder. These things will be second-nature to you. You’ll treat him the way you want to be treated; the way you deserve to be treated. And one day, you’ll sit next to him in the presence of your own child and discover that you’re no longer young and in love... but that simply being in love at all is worth every second of this precious life that passes you by.”

  “You’re not old, Daddy,” she says, starting to cr
y again.

  “I never said we were,” I respond to her, knowing it was implied but not wanting to upset her. “I was only reiterating that we are still very much in love.”

  “And we wish the same lifelong happiness to you and Jon, sweetie,” Emi adds. “I know you’ve both made the right choice.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Thank you, Daddy.” She hugs us both, then stands after seeing the clock on the wall. “He’ll think you talked me out of this,” she jokes with me. I offer my arm to her. She links her elbow with mine. Emi hands her a bouquet and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Matty’s in the hallway, Mom. He’ll escort you to your seat.”

  Emi turns quickly, and I can see her eyes water as she tries to step by me. I wrap my fingers around her forearm loosely to stop her.

  “I love you, Poppet.” She smiles and leans up, allowing me to brush my lips next to hers. As expected, she returns to me with more need, kissing me fully as a tear drops from each eye. “I’ll see you on the front row.”

  “I love you,” she says back to me. “Take care of our baby.”

  On the hotel’s roof is a long swimming pool, lights strung up on posts around it casting colorful sparkles on the water’s reflection. To the right are rows of chairs separated by an aisle. The aisle. The one I get to walk down with a daughter on my arm before handing her off to Jon. He stands in front of our families and friends, hands clasped in front of him, grinning happily and talking to the officiant as people continue to take their seats.

  An obvious void sets in where my heart is. Livvy’s been away from New York for four years, but she never felt far from me. Now with her clinging to my side, I’ve never felt such distance and wonder if this feeling will linger, or lessen as time goes on.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says as she peeks from the side of the building from which we’ll make our entrance. I watch the lights dance in her brown eyes as she takes in the scene in front of her.

  “Can you see him?”

  “I don’t want him to see me yet,” she says, lifting her eyebrows as she smiles eagerly. “Is that silly?”