Bea joined them at the mirror. “You’re a radiant bride, JoJo. We’ve got it going on, Bezas ladies.”

And they all smiled at their reflections, the three of them in a line.

There was the first look in the atrium. It was pouring outside. The wedding planner said it might let up for the ceremony. They would wait another hour, but then they had to set up the chairs. The library was a beautiful place for a ceremony. Just last week even, a couple chose the library over the garden, despite the good weather!

Joey walked to Grant, whose back was to her. She tapped him on the shoulder. Oh God, those Baby Bear Eyes. He said he loved her so much. He said she looked resplendent. He actually used that word. Resplendent. Perhaps he’d taken a spin through the thesaurus that morning to give her something more meaningful than amazing. He said sun was overrated. He made her twirl.

There were fifty glasses of water. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but water was thrust at her from all directions. From Bea, from the event planner, from G, from various aunts of Grant’s, from all the pregnant New York girls. There was Grant’s cousin Alexia—the one who never smiled and decided she didn’t want to walk down the aisle after all. The event planner made all the changes. She communicated the changes to all the players. Then she communicated the communication of the changes to Joey. A few minutes later, a scowling Alexia told Joey that she would indeed walk down the aisle.

There were one hundred million pictures. There were pictures with Grant’s hands on her face, with his hands circling her waist, with Lily’s arm on her shoulder, with her parents’ hands slung across her back from either side. Hands and arms. Touch. Far too much touch. There was, Get closer and Touch your cheek to his and Now throw your arms up in a silly pose and That’s not so silly, try to be actually silly. There was the event planner who crept up as the photographer swapped lenses. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to do it indoors. You’ll see, it will be beautiful.

There was the ketubah signing with Grant’s childhood rabbi, who kept calling them the Abrewmans. There was the marriage contract with a giant tree in watercolors that bled over the signature lines. There was Joey’s hand moving. Signing her name to it. There was the clatter of a pen. There was Siya scrawling her signature. There was applause. There was Grant checking to see it was her before putting down her veil. Just making sure it’s not Lily I’m marrying!

To the laughter that followed, Joey felt the veil bind her face. She couldn’t breathe. Where was the oxygen in this building?