Groomless - Part 3 (19 page)

The photographer took pictures of every possible thing at every possible angle, and Kate conspicuously snapped several of her own to send to Zack. The DJ cued one of my dad’s favorites, a Sinatra tune I’d known since I was a kid. Dad was seated at the head of the table, right next to Kate’s chair. On her other side was her ridiculous date, who happened to have a rather large eagle tattoo on his neck, and my uncle and aunt. When I walked over to join them, they stood to greet me, and we all gathered in a huge group hug. Tears flooded my eyes; even in that sad situation, I was overcome with gratitude that we had that perfect moment together.

The planner had provided a program for the reception, so I knew we were supposed to stand up in a receiving line at outset, but first, I picked up a glass of water with a lime wedge in it and tapped a silver fork against it. The crowd fell silent, and I darted my eyes from side to side, so proud that so many of our friends and loved ones had shown up to support my dad and my opportunity to give him his last wish. Hundreds of friends, relatives, and coworkers, from my dad’s former employers to Luke’s to mine, were there, along with press and owners of the businesses and organizations that had supported the effort. Stunned to silence for a minute and touched beyond belief, I smiled nervously at them all. It shocked me even more to see that the entire
Live with Kelly and Michael
crew was on hand, filming away.
Zack’s gonna get to watch this after all.

After a brief pause, I began, “I just want to thank all of you for being here tonight to help us give my incredible dad, Dean Cross, the kind of send-off he wants. There will be cake and dancing and champagne, and I hope you’ll each write a message in the guestbook and stop by the table to say hi to my dad. This may seem strange to a lot of people. I even thought that at first myself, but as many of you already know, my father is one of the most loving, most remarkable people I’ve ever met. He is always friendly and would give the shirt off his back to help someone in need. He is a brave soul, someone who wanted the most out of life and got it. While this little shindig is for him, it is also his way of helping me, of giving me something pleasant to focus on during his decline. This is his gift to us, a reminder of good things to come in my future, even while we’re staring down the barrel of our own mortality. We have to take the opportunity to be happy while we can. He’s taught me so many things, but that is the most important lesson I’ve ever learned for him. We must all live in this moment, right now, because it really, really might be all we have,” I said, with a catch in my voice.

Applause crackled across the room, and we all raised our glasses. I leaned over to kiss my dad, then went to give the obligatory interview about my first impressions. Liz had already informed me that I was required to gush about the venue and the vendors and the overall splendor, thanking Luke and our benefactors profusely on camera, and I was ordered to mention the Trump name once or twice. It wasn’t that difficult, because I was truly grateful, and the entire event was absolutely breathtaking. Most of all, it put a huge smile on my father’s face, even in the midst of his grim prognosis and all the pain I knew he was suffering.

It was easier, too, because Luke was there at my elbow, with his hand in the small of my back as I swept toward them. Every moment, he stayed right beside me like any real groom would, quietly helping me along, being charming and solicitous and generally indispensable.

After the meal, which was sumptuous to the point that I questioned the gown’s ability to accommodate my growing middle, my dad stood to give his toast.

“As most of you know, I’m the lucky father of this gorgeous bride,” he said, “and now I want to take a moment in the spotlight, if y’all don’t mind. My Julia is the real star of this occasion, even though she agreed to it for me. She’s always been the star of everything to me anyway, the apple of the eye, the center of my universe. Of course, if anyone else would have asked my girlie to put on a big ol’ Cinderelly dress and waltz around in some fancy-schmancy ballroom, pretending to be a bride for all these TV cameras, she woulda said hell no!”

The audience laughed and clapped as Daddy looked back at me.

“She did this for me, though, because the one thing I got stuck on when they told me I was Stage Four was that I wouldn’t get to see my baby walk down the aisle on her special day, wouldn’t get to dance with her in that white dress, with that sparkling thingamajig on her head, the crown my princess deserves. I just had to see if she could possibly be as beautiful as her mother was on our wedding day, and she’s all that and more.”

I sniffled as I remembered Mom; it was the greatest compliment I could ever receive to be compared to either of my parents. Luke squeezed my hand and stood by me, and I was glad he was there to keep me from actually swooning because I was so emotionally overwhelmed. I was as happy as I was sad, and that was a lot to digest all at once, especially after devouring so much seared beef.

“I had to talk my little girl into planning a party so fancy, as she’s a whole lot happier behind the camera than in front of it. She wanted simple, but I convinced her to go big. She’s a humble soul and has never liked the limelight like her daddy does. She deserves this attention though. Just look at her, how she glows, even brighter than that diamond on her finger! It’s about damn time somebody took notice of that. Now, in just a minute, I’m gonna have my last dance with the prettiest girl in the room, my darling daughter. I made her promise that she won’t cry, but I never said I wouldn’t. Besides,” he said, looking over at me, “it looks like she broke that deal already.”

Several people in the audience smiled, and some broke into sniffles, sobs, and tears of their own, especially my aunt, who quickly downed another wine spritzer to hide her crying.

“I’ve had a good life,” my father went on, “far better than I deserved, and it’s hard to let go. This helps, knowing that my little girlie will be loved even long after I’m gone, knowing I’m not leaving her completely alone in the world. Every one of you came here tonight to help us celebrate, whether it’s because you know us or just because you have a vested interest in this little soiree or are just curious about this remarkable story. I can tell you, no matter who you are or why you’re here or where you’re at in life, that my Julia was right when she said you’ve gotta grab on to the good times and hold on tight. I’ve been all over the world, on top of the highest mountains, but now I’m in a pretty deep valley. I can tell you from where I sit today that the end comes up way too fast. Today, this very moment, is all that’s really important. Cherish it, folks. Love the people you love every single minute, and spend as much time as you can with them. Don’t take life too seriously, because it’s fleeting. Now, if my daughter and Luke will cut the cake, you can all have some dessert while we cut a rug.”

Everyone sat silent for a second before the clapping began. Every single person got out of their seats for a well-deserved standing ovation, wiping their eyes and putting an arm around their dates or their kids. They all looked at one another through new, enlightened eyes, with a far greater appreciation for their lives and the people who made them special.

“That’s our cue,” Luke whispered, then led me across the room to the beautiful cake and the tasty-looking cookie cake the mall had donated to us.

I smiled, picked up the silver cake knife with the ribbon-festooned handle, and sliced the cookie cake first. I raised a crumbly wedge in salute, then took a nibble and offered the rest to Luke. He ate it with the enthusiasm of a starving teenager rather than the decorum of some Trump-trained international financier who’d just put away a five-star meal plated to Gordon Ramsay’s standards.

Licking crumbs from the corners of his delicious mouth, Luke placed his hand over mine on the knife handle, and together we cut a slice of the fluffiest, moistest lemon cake I’d ever seen. We placed it on a china plate rimmed with aqua. Deftly, Luke picked up a bite and fed it to me, careful not to mess up my lipstick as the photo was captured. Returning the favor, I pinched a chunk of cake and held it out to Luke. He opened his mouth to accept it from my fingers, but I playfully pulled it away, teasing him. He made two more attempts to capture the cake before I finally gave in and mushed it in his face, smearing frosting on his mouth and chin and laughing loudly along with the happy onlookers.

“I’ll get you back for that,” he said, sniffing a bit of frosting up his nose. “I’ll have you know I have a very dignified reputation to uphold.”

“Really? That’s odd.”

“What’s so odd about it?”

“This reputation you speak of might not be as good as you think. Everybody told me to do that because they think you’re a total prick, Mr. Tits,” I teased under my breath.

“Not everyone,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he wiped off his face. “Good cake though. You always were a cheeky little thing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Here comes your roomie to serve the cake. What’s with the snake earrings? She looks like freaking Cleopatra or something.

I laughed. “Well, snake ink or not, Kate’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got great taste in guys, I see. Check out dude’s neck ink.”

“You’re one to talk, with that compass on your back.”

“Shh. You’ll ruin my corporate reputation.”

“Garter toss time, according to the schedule,” Kate said when she walked over. “I can handle the cake. You go on and let Mr. Hottie McTrump toss your underthings to the crowd of fellas.”

“For real?” I said.

“A wedding reception isn’t complete without one,” she said. “Zack told me to try to catch it for him, but I’ll be busy over here, making your guests fatter. Besides, he’d probably want the bachelor more than the garter.”

“You’re probably right.”

I smiled and walked over to sit down on the special chair. It was not easy lifting the voluminous skirt so Luke could slide the lacy blue garter down the length of my leg. I tried not to giggle with nervous desire as he trailed the circle of fabric ever so slowly down my thigh. He spun it over his head, then tossed it eagerly to the gathering of eligible bachelors, all of whom hooted and laughed. Unfortunately, my jailbird cousin Hank caught it.

“Aw, well, maybe it’ll bring him luck. Third time’s a charm,” I said to Luke.

“I’ll be right back. Looks like my mentor dropped by,” he said.

My gaze followed him to the spot beside the bar, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, in a suit that probably cost more than a year of my rent, was Mr. Donald Trump himself, holding court right beside the Vader ice sculpture. Luke introduced me to him and I was thrilled to meet him. I joined my father and made sure he was using his portable oxygen tank and wasn’t feeling too tired.

My aunt, tipsy from a few too many wine spritzers, kept crying quietly and crumpling tissues. The planner made sure she had a fresh box of Kleenex beside her and gave her yet another glass of white wine to take the edge off the high drama. “Don’t mind me, honey,” she said. “I always cry at weddings, even fake ones.”

Chapter 14

I was supposed to wait to toss my exquisite bouquet of white peonies after the dance, but I was pretty sure that dancing with my father would leave me too weepy and emotionally exhausted to go through with it. I knew I’d be ready to hide after the bittersweet ordeal reached its climax, so I bravely ignored the agenda and called all the single ladies out onto the floor. The DJ spun “Roar” while the women—from the kitchen assistant from Carbon to Kate to the formidable Liz from PR—clustered behind me. I wished them luck and heaved the beautiful monstrosity over my shoulders.

When I turned around, I squealed to find Liz holding the peonies, looking flushed and utterly gobsmacked. I hugged her impetuously and, laughing, walked over to explain to my father who the woman in the stuffy business suit was. The camera crew sidelined me for a quick interview, wanting to capture my emotions and a supposedly spontaneous sense of wonder at all the kindness and sympathy of friends and strangers.

When I reached my father, I found Luke waiting with him, making googly eyes at my crying aunt to try to cheer her up. “Oh!” he said, looking up at me as if in shock. He then leaned over to my aunt and said, “Shh. I won’t tell her about us if you don’t.”

“Oh, you silly boy!” she said, swatting him with a tear-filled tissue. “You go on now.”

“Ready to kick off the dancing?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I said with more certainty than I really felt.

The lights dimmed and came back on in a dreamy shade of violet. A spotlight tracked us to the center of the floor, and the music started to swell. I wasn’t sure what song would play, as I’d left that up to the planner. When the Beach Boys started crooning their surfy music through the speakers, I narrowed my eyes at the man whose arm was around my waist.

“If you should ever leave me…the world would go on… Believe me… The world could show nothing to me…so what good would living do me? God only knows what I’d be without you…”

I dropped my head onto his shoulder, and tears ran down my face in mascara-gray rivers as I swayed back and forth to the most perfect song of all time. “You picked this, didn’t you?” I whispered against his neck.