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We take another sip of champagne before heading to the church. We could walk, but Diego and I wanted something much more romantic, especially because Cobeña once was a farm and now it’s a mini village. I love it here and even more the direction my life will be taking after today.
I adjust my tiara, and my veil. My body has changed and Diego loves it even more than before.
I can suck on your nipples all day, he said the night before. We haven’t been apart for more than a week, except when he takes trips to Tokyo. Now he’s back here it feels as if everything has fallen into place.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” Cristina asks as I put the flute down and smile at myself one more time, before leaving the house.
“No. The counseling sessions with the pastor has really helped. They set both Diego and my mind about marriageand what it means. It makes me feel more confident about the direction my life is going in.”
It feels as if I said too much and I drank the champagne too fast as I’ve spent the last few months in dungarees and sneakers, and now I’m in heels and a dress which is like a second skin.
“Yeah. You’re not fighting as much, that’s for sure.”
“We never fought, we always just had a difference of opinion.”
“I’ll say,” Cristina chuckles.
I know she’s right, Diego and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, like him buying my parents the house in La Moraleja and nearly every member of my family demanding the same. Apart from Tía, she seemed to be at peace once mi abuela’s house was sold and Mamá was no longer living in it.
Before, I would have found it strange that two sisters were acting like that, but with all the drama with Belén, I understand perfectly. It’s as if they have skeletons in their closets and I do my best to keep out of their business, and I hope they respectively do the same with me.
The weather outside is a typical June day in Cobeña. It is mild and welcoming. The sun, with a gentle warmth, kisses the town, casting a soft glow on the cobblestone streets outside. A light breeze carries the fragrances of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, adding a touch of nature's perfume to the festivities.
“What are you looking for?” Cristina asks.
I pause before getting into the carriage and look around the street.
“For Belén to pop out and cause trouble.”
She smiles as she takes my hand. “She’s not going to do that. Well, not for now.”
I raise an eyebrow, wondering what she knows about the situation, but this is my wedding day, I shouldn’t be focused on her—just my future husband and our baby daughter, Lola.
As the driver and Cristina help me and my trail into the carriage, I smile as I see my neighbors and the locals come to wave goodbye to the single me, and welcome the new phase in my life.
“Hermosa!”2
“Buena suerte!3”
“Guapísima!4”
Some are telling me that I look beautiful, and others are wishing me luck as the carriage drives away. I realize it was never the house that Abuela loved so much but the spirit of the people.
All week, people have been dropping by to either give me food or even at times offer to help to look after Lola, and I have taken them all on their offer.
I can’t imagine bringing up my children or being anywhere but here. As the horse makes it up to the square in front of the church, I pause as the driver settles the horses and once again Cristina’s dark eyes beam as I try to get out of the carriage. As romantic as it is arriving in a carriage, the getting in and out doesn’t feel so romantic.
But I don’t care, as I notice the church doors are open. I take a deep breath as I step down and adjust my dress once again.
“Here I am,” I say as I smile and wave at some guests outside of the church. Maybe they’re invited or not, but they gasp as they see me and even with my small five-foot-two frame, I feel like the tallest woman outside.
Cristina and my other prima run to my aid to help me walk across the cobbled pavement. Everything here has a story to tell, there’s so much history in the square and it is all restored and maintained well.
The church doors creak open, and I step into the cool embrace of the stone-walled building. The only noise are the fans and the sounds of everyone standing up as they hear that I’m in the church.
The choir starts to sing above, and my bridesmaids all fuss around as they prepare to step inside before me. My eyes cast on the stained glass windows with vibrant hues of ruby, sapphire, and emerald, filtering in the June sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors that dance upon the aged wooden pews.
They sing a traditional Spanish song, and it lifts my heart and makes me want to cry before I’ve even entered. I heard them practicing at our rehearsal, but nothing is like the real day.
