Blood Bond (Page 32)
I PEEK OUT THE WINDOW WHEN I HEAR THE STRING quartet begin to play what I've chosen as my processional: Bach's Prelude in C.
Mom looks at me, her eyebrows raised.
I grin at her. "This is my surprise for you. I remember you saying it's what you chose when you married Dad."
Her eyes fill with tears, but I shake a finger at her. "No crying, remember? Your crying will ruin my makeup."
Another glance out the window. Trish is walking down the aisle hand in hand with John-John. They take their places in front, John-John at Frey's side, Trish to the left. I look at Mom. It's our cue. She takes my hand and we go downstairs to where Dad is waiting at the gate to the garden.
Mom gives my hand one last squeeze before she places it in Dad's. He leans over and pecks my cheek. "Your hands are cold as ice. Don't be nervous. You look beautiful."
Mom winks at me. "Here we go."
She precedes us down the red carpet that's been laid from the edge of the garden to a flower-strewn pergola. The officiate is waiting for us on the steps. It's Pierre. I wonder with a grin if Frey will be disappointed that it's not Hot Lips performing the ceremony.
This is the first time I've seen the garden since the workmen arrived yesterday. Three rows of chairs have been placed in a semicircle facing a raised dais. The chairs are filled with Mom and Dad's friends and neighbors and at the front, David and Tracey. Lots of flowers. Everywhere. I sense Chael, too, though at the moment I'm too excited, nervous, terrified to look around.
My eyes focus on Frey. He's waiting for me, John-John at his side. He steps forward to give Mom's cheek a kiss and when she's taken her place in the front row, his gaze turns to me.
In that moment, all our history, all our mistakes, all our past evaporates. It's as if I'm seeing him for the first time. He reaches out a hand and Dad places my palm in his. Then Dad kisses my cheek, too, and joins Mom.
I can't take my eyes off Frey. His wonderful familiar face suddenly looks different. It's not a reflection of his clothes. He's handsome in his tux, but he's handsome in jeans and an old sweatshirt. It's something new in his gaze when he looks at me.
It's devotion. In his eyes. Shining from his face. A promise that he will never let me down. I knew he loved me. I didn't know until this minute how much. Or realize how much I loved him. It's magical. Joyous. I'm one of the lucky ones. I've found my soul mate.
He bends his head and whispers in my ear, "You are even more beautiful than I imagined you'd be."
And in that instant, nervousness and fear disappear. I throw my arms around his neck and hold him-so tight I feel his breath catch. And then he's hugging me back and I've never felt so safe.
Suddenly, laughter erupts from the guests seated behind us, and the officiate pulls us gently apart. "That's at the end," he quips.
And so I disentangle myself from Frey and we're both grinning as the ceremony really begins.
The vows are simple, promises to be faithful, to love each other through dark days and light, to protect and defend each other. Uncomplicated concepts to mortals, but to us, vampire and shape-shifter, they take on a special meaning. We repeat them solemnly, together, eyes locked. We exchange rings, gold bands each engraved with one word: forever. Then Pierre proclaims us husband and wife.
"Now you may kiss the bride."
And so Frey does. A deep, lingering kiss that has my heart pounding until the sound of applause brings us up for air.
The recessional blasts from speakers hidden among the foliage. Frey watches my face as I recognize the song. Since I picked the processional, he insisted on choosing the appropriate recessional. "It's perfect," I say. "But who picked it out, you or Dad?"
Then there's another gale of laughter and applause when the audience, too, recognizes the familiar composition.
What could be more fitting than the "Hallelujah Chorus"?
* * *
I'M MARRIED. I HAVE TO KEEP REPEATING IT LIKE A MANTRA TO BELIEVE IT. EVEN WITH ALL THE PEOPLE OFFERING CONGRATULATIONS AND MY FOLKS BEAMING, IT doesn't seem real.
Chael approaches with his guests. Plural. He not only has a very young, very human, very French model type on his arm, but he's brought someone else, too.
Vlad's eyes twinkle as he bends low to kiss my hand. "You make a lovely bride," he says.
You kept a low profile, I say with a smile. I didn't know you were here.
I wasn't sure you'd be pleased at my coming.
Frey and I are in your debt, I reply. You are always welcome.
Chael looks puzzled by the exchange but I don't give him time to ask about it. I address myself again to Vlad. You'll have to fill Chael in on our adventure.
Vlad nods and laughs. He looks very handsome in a tailored suit, his hair pulled away from his face and secured at the back of his neck. He, too, has a woman on his arm, but this one doesn't look happy to have been brought to such a commonplace event. As a human, she no doubt expected more excitement from her vampire date.
Your date looks bored.
He grimaces and shoots her a sideways frown. I made a mistake bringing her. She's too young and inexperienced to appreciate the beauty of this occasion.
Young, yes. Inexperienced, I doubt it.
That brings a chuckle from both Chael and Vlad and a stern look from the date, who probably guesses that we are having a conversation and she is more than likely the topic.
"Allons, cher, je veux un peu de champagne," she says through pouty lips, pulling on Vlad's arm.
He bows an apology and moves toward the buffet and bar set among the trees.
I look around for Frey. He's chatting with some of my parent's friends. He had thrown a questioning look Vlad's way when he spied him among the guests, but he remained with the little knot by the buffet table. I join him now, slipping my arm through his. He nibbles my earlobe, using the diversion to whisper, "Everything all right?"
His eyes are on Vlad and Chael, now chatting it up with Mom and Dad. Vlad's date still looks like she wants to be anywhere but here, but the sour expression is hidden behind a glass of champagne so I doubt my exuberant parents notice.
"Everything is more than all right." I tip my face toward his. "I've never been happier."
Trish is suddenly at our side, John-John beside her. She holds a silver cake knife. "Come on, you two. It's time to cut the cake!"
She takes my hand and John-John takes Frey's and we're pulled to the end of the buffet table where the magnificent wedding cake is on proud display. Someone clangs a fork against a glass and in a minute, we're surrounded.
Trish hands me the knife. Now this is going to be tricky. If I so much as get a mouthful of cake, there will be serious repercussions. I cut two small pieces and offer one to Frey.
Luckily, Frey knows the drill. I go first, stuffing a forkful of cake in his mouth; well, mostly in his mouth. He grins and uses his fingers to scoop up the excess, wiping them on a napkin Trish holds out. Then he holds up his piece of cake, but instead of aiming for my mouth, he swivels suddenly, leans down and pushes it at John-John.
An excited, surprised squeal and John-John grabs his father's hand, and the two are soon covered mouth to chin in chocolate cake and whipped cream frosting. The guests howl in laughter. It's a perfect distraction and before anyone notices I haven't had a bite of cake, I'm wiping my lips and smacking in feigned appreciation.
Well done.
I spy Vlad at the edge of the crowd, clapping his hands along with everyone else. Then more champagne is poured, the cake served, and I turn my attention to helping Frey and his son clean frosting off their clothes.
I sense the tenseness in the air before seeing David and Tracey approach. They are not holding hands. She tries to smile at me, but it falls a hundred kilowatts short of her usual high-beam grin. David is tight-lipped, shoulders bunched.
"What the fuck, Anna?" he snaps, rubbing his bicep.
I guess I grabbed him harder than I realized. But he's not going to sidetrack me. "Fine way to talk to a bride," I snap right back. "What did you do to Tracey?"
His face softens from aggravation to something that looks a lot like guilt. "I broke up with her."
Now I wish I'd grabbed him harder. "You broke up with her? At my wedding? What the fuck, David?"
"Fine way for a bride to talk," he growls right back. But now it's guilt plainly stamped on his face. "I just couldn't let her go on thinking we had a future. It wasn't fair."
"Jesus, David. Tell me it's not because of Gloria."
"It's not because of Gloria."
Too fast, and not at all convincing. "So all that bullshit you fed me about you and Gloria just being friends was just that? Bullshit?" I don't give him time to respond. "You had sex with Tracey last night."
His head jerks up. "How do you know that?"
"Because I heard you."
Color floods up his face. "God. You could hear us?"
He's embarrassed. Good. No sense letting him off the hook by telling him it was because of my super-acute sense of hearing. "Yes. So, you had sex with her last night and broke up with her this morning. Real classy, David."
His jaw tightens. "We're both adults. She wanted to have sex. So did I."
"Last night. So did you just wake up this morning and think, today Anna is getting married. Good time to break up with Tracey."
He looks down at his hands. "It wasn't like that. Exactly."
"I don't even want to know what it was like. Exactly. John-John is more mature than you are." But I soften my voice. "Can't you make things right with Tracey?"
"How am I supposed to do that?" For the first time in our conversation, his eyes spark defensively. "Tracey knew all along I wasn't prepared to get serious. I told her so. I told you so, remember? But with all the wedding preparations and watching you and Frey so crazy in love, it suddenly hit me that I wasn't being fair to Tracey. She deserves someone who can give her what you have. It isn't me."
I take his arm and turn him to face Frey and Tracey still standing by the wedding cake. "Are you sure? Look at Tracey. She's beautiful, smart, strong, sexy, and she cares about you."
He looks at Tracey. The sadness tugging at her mouth and clouding her eyes makes my heart heavy. But the look quickly morphs into one of grim determination when she catches David's eyes on her. She squares her shoulders and deliberately turns her back on him.
Tracey is a tough chick. A truth suddenly dawns on me with such clarity, I can't believe I hadn't seen it before. One of those "aha" moments you read about in books but seldom experience in real life.
This one hits me with the force of a sledgehammer. Maybe it's because of my mother or what Frey and I just went through or maybe it's because of the conversation I had with Vlad. Only one thing matters in this life. And it's about time I stopped trying to force David into a relationship he doesn't want because it's a relationship I think he should.
I take a deep breath and plunge in. "I can't force you to make things right with Tracey. And I'm about to utter words you never in your wildest dreams imagined I'd ever say."
David's face darkens. "What now?"
Are the words going to get caught in my throat? Choke me? Shit. Let's get this over with. I look David square in the eyes. "If it's really Gloria you love, don't waste any more time. Go get her."
I couldn't have surprised David more if I'd declared my own undying love for him. His eyes widen, his mouth falls open.
I don't wait for him to regain composure. I'm afraid if I do, I'll take it all back. I rush on, "I think you're going to regret it. Big-time. And please, don't bring her around the office. I may lose control and shoot her. But I've learned something these last few weeks. Life is too short and love is too important to squander. I'm doing this for Tracey as much as I'm doing this for you. Tracey is all the things I mentioned and more and you are absolutely right. There is someone out there for her. If it isn't you, she shouldn't waste any more time finding him."
David's expression changes from astonishment to deeply suspicious in the blink of an eye. "How much champagne have you had today?"
"Not enough. And I'm going to have to drink a lot more to be able to forget this conversation."
"Well, I'm going to call Gloria before you do." He glances at Tracey. "Will you tell Tracey I'm leaving?"
"Oh no. It's up to you to tell her. Maybe she'll want to stay on for a few days. Maybe she'll want to leave with you. In any case, I can have the pilot ready to fly in a few hours."
David leans down to kiss my cheek. "Thanks, Anna."
"Don't thank me yet. In fact, don't thank me for this ever."
But David is already off, moving toward Frey and Tracey. I watch as Tracey listens to David tell her he's going back to San Diego. But there are no histrionics on her part, no recriminations. She's put on her big-girl panties and it's in that moment I know she's going to be fine. She merely shrugs and then they both move toward the house.
I move to Frey's side. "Tracey tell you David broke up with her?"
He nods. "They're going back to San Diego as soon as possible." He tilts his head to look at me. "So you couldn't talk him into trying again, huh?"
"Actually, I did." I slip my arm in Frey's. "But not the way you think. I'll tell you about it later." I watch David and Tracey disappear into the house. "Do you have your cell phone on you? I've got to make a call."
* * *
LUCKILY THERE ARE NO MORE CRISES FOR THE REST OF the afternoon. By four, Frey and I have said thank you and good-bye to all the guests.
David and Tracey have gone to dinner in town. They'll be leaving tomorrow to go back to San Diego-something about weather patterns making it impossible to leave tonight. It will sadden me to see them go, the only consolation being the knowledge that in time, Gloria will certainly fuck things up with David. If he's lucky, when it happens Tracey won't have found her Prince Charming yet and David might get another chance with her. Maybe then he'll be wise enough to appreciate it.
God knows, it took me long enough with Frey.
I look around. Only family left.
Now we're gathered at the big oak table at the side of the house, out of the way of the cleanup crew. John-John has his head down on the table, an afternoon of partying finally catching up with him. Frey lifts him up gently and takes him upstairs for a nap while Dad pops the cork on a bottle of wine. When Frey returns, Dad has filled glasses for all of us, Trish included, though hers is less than a quarter filled.
He raises his glass. "To a perfect day."
We all drink and Frey offers the next toast. "To family. Those united by blood, and those united by the heart."
I'm close to tears now-something I've managed to avoid all day. But I'm next in the circle around the table and I know just what I want to say. I take Frey's hand. "To love. And we who are lucky enough to have found it."
Mom and Trish are side by side, arms linked. They raise their glasses together and Mom says, "To memories. As long as we hold those we love in our hearts, they will always be with us."
Tears I've been holding back want to flow freely now.
And I let them.