As she runs off, I give Luciano a warning look. “If my daughter wants a horse after this, it’s all going to be your fault.”
Luciano just grins at me. He’s been grinning for nearly twenty-four hours now. The man can’t wait to get married.
I give his shoulder a squeeze, deciding to forgive him if Chloe Ann gets obsessed with horses now. Maybe.
After lunch, things start to get serious. The officiant shows up, as well as the wedding photographer and the caterers. A DJ sets up underneath the tent, the florist makes her arrangements along the chairs and the aisle set-up in the field out front.
Alejo and I drift from place to place, sipping cocktails from the bar, helping Luciano when we can, though Marco seems to be running the show, and that’s fine with us.
Then things get real.
We take our places in the white chairs in the field, overlooking the makeshift altar of haybales and carefully arranged flowers. In the distance, the fields turn into the sea, sparkling cobalt blue.
The sun is shining, it’s hot as sin, the sky is clear but there’s a soft breeze that keeps me from ruining my suit jacket in sweat.
I hold onto Vera’s hand on one side of me and Chloe Ann’s on the other, giving them both a squeeze, momentarily overwhelmed over how lucky I am to have these two in my life. They both look gorgeous too, Vera with her hair piled high on her head, in a modest blue dress that brings out her curves and her eyes, my daughter in a simple black dress. It takes me aback to look at her like this, that she’s becoming a woman, no longer my baby girl. But my god, am I proud of her.
Then everyone turns to look as Luciano walks down the aisle alongside the officiant, a rather-grim looking elderly man. No surprise, Luciano looks debonair, his beard neatly trimmed (thank god, because it was bordering on mountain man for a while), his tuxedo sharp. He smiles and nods at everyone as he goes, then raises his hands in the air, letting out a whoop before going to his place at the altar.
Everyone laughs. It’s hard not to around him.
Then we wait.
And wait.
The music starts to fill the air.
I look at Luciano’s face. He’s staring straight down the aisle like a man possessed, a sense of awe and wonderment slowly overtaking his expression.
I twist in my seat along with everyone else, looking behind me.
Ruby walks down the aisle in a white wedding dress, holding red roses that match her lips. Behind her, Elena carries the train, while Ruby’s arm is locked around her father’s. She tries to look at everyone as she passes by, but she can’t take her eyes away from Luciano.
And he certainly can’t take his eyes off her.
“Oh my god,” Vera whispers to me, sniffing. “Look at how in love they are.”
I squeeze her hand, loving it when she gets so sentimental. It doesn’t happen that often.
Honestly, I feel it too. I don’t really pay attention to what the officiant is saying. He keeps switching from Portuguese to English and back again, and he speaks slowly. I keep looking over at Alejo to see if he’s keeping up and he looks as confused as I do.
But it doesn’t matter when it comes time for the vows, because that’s the most important part. That’s what comes from the soul, and both Luciano and Ruby make very heartfelt, bold claims for each other.
Luciano says, his voice cracking with emotion as he speaks, “Ruby, I promise to always be your friend, your lover, and, most importantly, your family, from this day until our very last days. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.”
I think we all feel the sincerity and love pouring from his heart to hers.
I’m not afraid of my emotions, maybe because in Spain it’s not a big deal for a man to cry, but even so, I try my hardest to keep it together. I don’t want to end up like Vera who is sobbing quietly beside me, or even my daughter, who looks a bit misty-eyed.
Then they exchange rings, Luciano’s hand trembling as he slips the wedding band on Ruby’s finger, a single tear spilling from her eye as she look at him with so much adoration and love, that I know these two are in it for the long-haul.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant announces, finally smiling.
Luciano breaks into the biggest ear-to-ear grin, grabbing Ruby’s face in his hands. “Hello, my wife,” he says to her.
“Hello, my husband,” she answers sweetly.
He kisses her, long and hard enough that I’m tempted to cover Chloe Ann’s eyes. Everyone laughs.
Then Luciano and Ruby turn around to face us and he raises their hands in the air, doing a little dance like he does whenever he scores a goal.
We laugh some more, getting to our feet, cheering, yelling, clapping. Luciano and Ruby run down the aisle past us, dancing as they go like a bunch of goofs, having the time of their lives.
Then they very dramatically get on the back of a fucking horse, Ruby gathering the ends of her dress in one hand, her other hand going around Luciano’s waist, and off they go, smiling, hollering, literally galloping off into the sun.
“Wow,” Chloe Ann says, watching them disappear behind a ridge. “I need to fall in love so I can do that at my wedding.”
“One
