Claude & Rebecca

The wedding fell just after Thanksgiving, cold enough that Rebecca wore a white faux fur wrap for most of the outdoor photos and her bridesmaids pulled brown stoles over their teal gowns. She got ready in a hotel room with the gown hanging in the window, laughing while one friend fastened her necklace and another knelt to buckle her shoes. Downstairs, she came down a curving iron staircase past a chandelier of tall white candles, her bouquet of orange and cream flowers held low.

Claude waited in a brick courtyard in a black suit, and she tapped him on the shoulder from behind. A minute later they were kissing in the middle of the brick circle, her satin train fanned out behind her. The groomsmen strode across the brick circle in a loose line, and the bridesmaids swirled around her train like they were in on a joke. The ceremony was in a church painted pale yellow inside, with ribbed vaults over the altar, a stained glass window and an officiant in a colorful stole. The wedding party stood in two neat rows on either side.

By the time they reached Crystal Lake the sun was already down, and the water held the whole pink and violet sky. They stood on the grass right at the edge, Claude's cheek pressed to her hair, the trees across the lake bare and black. Inside the pavilion, walls of weathered wood glowed under string lights. Servers passed tiny bites on slate, the cake read Claude and Becky, and the dance floor got loud fast, loud enough that one guest was doing a full cartwheel in a dress shirt and tie.