Vita & Mat

Vita and Mat changed their plans only weeks before July 11, 2020, moving to an outdoor ceremony to keep everyone within the guidelines of that summer. The morning still looked like a wedding morning. Bridesmaids piled onto a hotel bed in pink robes, Vita read a letter with her hand over her mouth, and her gown hung in a tall window. Mat, curly hair loose, pulled a blue suit on over suspenders and a green bow tie.

The ceremony was held deep in the arboretum's gardens, among ferns and tall evergreens, with a few rows of white folding chairs set on the grass. A woman in navy walked her in. Several guests wore masks, and nobody stood too close. Vita read her vows from a folded page, and when they turned to walk back out, the bridesmaids in sage and the groomsmen in suspenders cheered them all the way through.

For portraits, they moved into the tropical beds, where banana leaves the size of doors made Vita look like she was standing in another country. Her veil caught the air and went sideways. The old greenhouse with its green doors and lattice made the best frame of the afternoon. Back inside, a round loaf on an embroidered towel greeted them, and the night ran on dancing and cake.