Chapter 76 - The Wedding Nobody Could Buy
Julian wanted three hundred guests.
I wanted twelve.
We compromised at forty-two.
Marriage.
Meredith Grace handled logistics because neither of us was trusted.
Reasonable.
The ceremony took place in October.
Same season as Allison’s wedding fifty-seven years earlier.
The fountain courtyard looked completely different.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Children’s drawings hung inside Meredith House.
Legal clinic signs stood near the entrance.
Families crossed the courtyard without knowing—or caring—that billionaires and scandals had once turned the same stones into national news.
Good.
Places should outlive our drama.
I wore a simple cream dress.
No designer announcement.
No magazine exclusivity.
Julian wore a dark suit.
He still looked unfairly handsome at ninety-three.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“For?”
“Your hair.”
“What about it?”
“You still have it.”
He smiled.
Patricia arrived in blue.
Allison in green.
Eleanor cried before anything started.
Meredith Grace threatened to remove her if she ruined photographs.
Leo came with his children.
Rosa and Maya attended.
Agent Reed too.
Even Julian’s cardiologist received an invitation because apparently keeping the groom alive qualified as wedding participation.
At four, Patricia appeared beside me.
No bouquet.
No music yet.
Just my mother.
“Ready?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
We walked slowly.
Very slowly.
My knees set the pace.
The courtyard became quiet.
When we reached the fountain, Patricia stopped.
She turned toward me.
Then, in front of everyone, she said:
“I should have stood beside you here the first time.”
No microphone needed.
“I should have chosen my daughter over appearances.”
Her voice shook.
“I did not.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Today I do.”
That was all.
No performance.
No demand for forgiveness.
She kissed my cheek and sat.
Julian waited across the fountain.
Fifty-seven years disappeared.
Not erased.
Reframed.
I walked to him alone.
By choice.
Meredith Grace officiated.
“Grandma threatened me if I made this sentimental.”
“I did.”
Guests laughed.
“Grandpa threatened to replace me if I didn't.”
“I did not.”
“You implied.”
Julian shrugged.
She continued.
“So I’ll keep this simple.”
She looked at us.
“These two have already survived enough marriage to qualify without additional paperwork.”
More laughter.
Then Julian read his vows.
He did not mention money.
Thank God.
He spoke about mornings.
Coffee.
Arguments.
Hospitals.
Italy.
Children.
The nights I worked too late.
The years he pretended not to worry.
He spoke about the first time he saw me.
Not at the fountain.
Years earlier.
A government conference.
I had challenged a panel of executives for forty minutes.
“You were terrifying,” he said.
“You liked it.”
“I loved it.”
Then my turn.
“I used to say you rescued me.”
His eyes softened.
“You did, sometimes.”
I looked at our family.
“But you also annoyed me, overprotected me, bought things I specifically told you not to buy, and treated every inconvenience as a possible acquisition.”
People laughed.
Julian looked proud.
“That is not praise.”
“I know.”
Then I became serious.
“You were never the reason I had worth.”
His eyes filled.
“You were the first person who made me feel safe enough to discover I already did.”
He lowered his head.
That one got him.
We exchanged simple bands.
No giant diamond.
Then Meredith Grace pronounced us still married.
“Can I kiss her?” Julian asked.
“You've had fifty-seven years.”
“Not permission.”
“Go.”
He kissed me.
Applause filled the courtyard.
Then the children started clapping too loudly.
Someone dropped a cupcake.
Allison stole two champagne glasses despite doctor restrictions.
Patricia criticized the napkins.
Perfect.
At sunset, Maya walked over.
“I have something.”
Another envelope.
I groaned.
“Our family banned envelopes.”
She laughed.
Inside was a copy of the deed for the new Torres Cooperative Housing building.
Groundbreaking scheduled in spring.
At the bottom, residents had voted on a name.
PHOENIX COURT.
“No Sterling?” I asked.
Maya shook her head.
“Nope.”
“Excellent.”
She pointed toward the fountain.
“But we’re putting one of those in the courtyard.”
Julian whispered, “I’ll pay.”
“No.”
Maya laughed.
“We already have funding.”
Julian looked wounded.
Best wedding gift imaginable.
That night, after everyone left, he and I remained beside the fountain.
Again.
“Happy?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“Any regrets?”
“One.”
“What?”
“I should have ordered more flowers.”
May you like
I hit him with my cane.
Marriage renewed successfully.
