Rachel & Joe

Outside, the snow had been shoveled into gray banks along the curb and the trees on the block were bare. Inside Shells Loft it was white walls, tall steel windows, and soft, even daylight from end to end. The program set the tone in gold ink, with a line of Hebrew and its English beside it, I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine, printed in a circle around their initials. Rachel's gown had a deep V and fluttering cap sleeves, and Joe wore a deep green suit with a green kippah to match.

They stepped out onto the snowy sidewalk together for a few frames, walking hand in hand past the snowbanks, then came back in for portraits by the windows and on a long white sofa. The veiling was pure joy. Joe lowered the veil over Rachel's face with both of them laughing, and a little later she was wiping away a tear. Under a chuppah heavy with dark red roses and trailing amaranth, they kissed, and it was hard to say who was grinning more.

The reception room was set with long tables, gold chairs, and single burgundy stems in bud vases, a big woven disc hanging on the wall. Rachel and Joe came in through a pair of dark doors practically at a run. Within minutes both of them were up on chairs above a crowd of raised phones and kippot, Rachel gripping her seat and laughing. The circle dancing that followed pulled in everyone, and by the end the couple were spinning each other across the concrete floor.