A Destination Wedding Is Not for the Faint of Heart (Part Two)
I also included part one for your convenience
If you were here last week, feel free to skip to the start of part two. I’ve included part one for ease of access to anyone new (welcome!) and for those who don’t remember last week (let’s be honest, a lot has happened since then).
PART ONE
Friday, May 29th - 11:15pm
It is one of those nights where I don’t want the festivities to end. I drag my finger through the condensation on the school bus window, drawing a little smiley face. It seems fitting, after all, that’s what I used to do when I was a kid on dewy mornings on my way to school.
Tonight looks a little different than all those years ago. Tonight, I’m in a floor length dress and sparkly heels (yes, my heels made it the entire night!!), on my way to the after party. I look around the bus, allowing the sea of voices to wash over me. In this moment, I disassociate from the wedding crowd and start swimming through the plethora of emotions from the weekend. Which emotion to choose? The obvious one? The one that’s hard to admit? The easy one? The one I’m ignoring? All of the above?
Laura taps me on the shoulder, “Hey girl are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just……..content.”
Thursday, May 28th - 9:30am
Flying first class is a very rare occurrence for me. I am ecstatic (!!!) to report that I am sitting in seat 3c for this lovely trip to Boston for Liz’s wedding. I adore Liz, I adore Boston, and I adore the fact that George switched seats with me so I could sit next to Laura for the flight. (Don’t feel bad for him, he literally moved across the aisle to 3b and looked quite happy with his book.)
We order glasses of bubbly (I felt obligated! How often do I get the chance to do this??) and Laura puts on her 3-hour face mask.
“I think it has salmon sperm in it or something,” Laura says casually (regarding the face mask, NOT the prosecco).
I CACKLE as Laura takes a sip of her wine through the mask.
Never a dull moment.
I barely notice the plane take off as we chit chat. Eventually, we settle into our own books (Every Summer After for me, if you were curious) and I take a moment of gratitude that my legs have space to stretch out (I fear I have now been spoiled).
I’m almost a little sad when it’s time to land. (Almost, it’s still a plane and I’d much rather be at my destination. But wow. What a treat.)
Thursday, May 28th - 2:00pm
This is where my brain starts to short circuit a little bit.
We deplane at Boston Logan and I instinctively enter “airport dad” mode. It’s usually me, myself, and I when traveling, so I know how to move with a purpose and navigate an airport.
But this time, I’m Laura and George’s adopted child. So I can just..sort of..relax?
Huh.
I struggle with this concept until we get to the rental car. You mean to tell me I can just sit in the back seat and stare out the window and say “ooooh look at all the brick!!! That’s a cool building.”???? A remarkable concept.
Old habits do die screaming though, as I offer sunblock while we walk through Boston Commons.
The sky laughs at me and mere minutes later, rain plummets toward us. We seek shelter in the Uncommon Corner under a large (large) tree (I’d give you more specifics but unfortunately dendrology is not my area of expertise). I should be bummed, but it somehow feels rather…poetic? This particular corner happens to be a beer garden and Laura is bouncing off the walls because they have her favorite beer (Harpoon). George orders us some chips and dip and we pass around the containers, shielding the food from stray raindrops with our bodies the way the tree shields us with its leaves - not flawlessly but good enough. We see a family walking across the park, drenched, clearly having accepted their fate and carrying about their day.
I exhale.
Wow. Is this what it’s like to not worry about it? Noted.
Soon, the sun reclaims the sky and we take the long way out of the park. George gives Laura a piggy back ride to the parking garage. I reclaim my window seat and sing along to the music as we head an hour north to Wakefield.
Let the parties begin.
PART TWO
Thursday, May 28th - 7:00pm
My brain does not want to recognize Salem as a real place. It sounds like a city from a novel, something fictional rather than historical. As we drive from our hotel in Wakefield to Salem, past A-shaped roofs, brick-lined streets, and a literal witch museum, I feel like I’m on a movie set. It’s the kind of place I would love to explore on foot so I can get a good look at all the details.
As we arrive at the brewery for the welcome party, I drop back into reality. We make a beeline for Liz (it’s the first time we’ve seen her in months) and jump over the chain-rope-barrier-type thing to give her a hug (who needs doors anyway?). Liz is stunning in white, effortlessly bridal in a sheath midi dress. She has a lacy red shawl wrapped around her arms, a nod to the blending of cultures. We greet Nathan through a crowd of friends and it’s impossible not to feel joy in this moment. I flash back to living three doors down from them. To the Friday morning coffees before work, to passing them on the street as they walked their foster-turned-adopted dog, to the yoga classes that Liz taught, and the impromptu snow day board game tournament. To know Liz and Nathan is to know that love exists in this world.
We say our hellos, then step aside to allow the next surge of guests to have their moment with the couple.
Somewhere between the hugs and standing in line for drinks (this brewery has a GF blood orange radler that tastes like a liquid sunset!!), my adrenaline bubble starts to break. When I travel, I always seem to forget I’m not immune to fatigue and the full spectrum of human emotions. I want to believe that the limitations that hold me back at home magically disappear in a new city (on occasion, they do, but that’s rare or temporary).
Inside, the brewery is one giant box of conversation. I love being social, but I’ll admit that finding a place to squeeze in amongst strangers can be a bit overwhelming. Laura, George, and I slip onto the patio - choosing a slightly cooler air temperature in favor of the quieter volume. We find a smaller group to mingle with before sliding into an open table, none of us willing to admit we’re running on empty. I sit across from Laura and George, noting the entire bench for just me. I divert my eyes from the empty space and turn to the celebration happening around me.
This is fun, say something fun, be FUN.
I swirl gratitude around in my heart and take a small sip of my liquid sunset.
I truly am so happy to be here, why am I hitting a wall?
I know why, of course, but I’m choosing not to answer that question tonight.
Instead, I dig deep for the positivity because I refuse to be anything but happy at someone else’s party. I pass the evening by asking other people questions and smiling and it really does help me forget about the fatigue and other inconvenient emotions.
Night shrouds the brewery by the time we make our way back to the rental car. I quietly sigh as I climb into the backseat.
I just need some sleep and tomorrow will be beautiful.
I keep my eyes peeled for signs of magic as we weave through the streets of Salem and back towards our hotel.
PART THREE NEXT WEEK
It wasn’t my intention to make this a series, but it’s proving to be a much larger project than I anticipated (shocking!). If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ll stick around for part three 🤗 I still have a lot to unpack.
Salem truly does feel like a movie set!! I love the witchy vibes there :) also, I totally resonate with the feeling of overwhelm when you're at a big event like that (especially after a travel day!) looking forward to part 3!