I have been to several weddings before, and always they were elaborate affairs, the result of long hours of planning and careful arrangements. This wedding, however, was something different.
George and Kara went to the courthouse this morning, with only George’s parents, Kara’s mother, and Freya to accompany them. They were dressed simply, George in a button-down and slacks, Kara in wide-leg trousers and a sleek blazer. They exchanged rote vows and rings, signed documents, and kissed just once, and it was done.
And yet there was such a beauty in the simplicity, because Kara, usually smirking or stern, could not stop smiling. Her eyes were glowing, and George kept getting teary. Everyone with them was so happy, washed in the joy that was shared by these two people.
Afterwards, the group retreated to the restaurant they had booked for the celebration afterwards, expecting a quiet dinner and a sendoff with the same people. However, as soon as they walked into the reserved room, the many people inside—friends from Kara’s undergraduate, coworkers of George’s, and extended family on both sides—all burst into cheers and applause.
George and Kara stopped short, astonished. They had sent notice of their wedding to many people, of course, with handwritten notes to say they would visit soon, but no formal invites had gone out. A Wednesday wedding, they thought, was too much trouble for most people. But it was the smart decision, reserving their savings for their whole life together and not just one day.
So they said, and so they believed at first. But as the day came nearer, Freya detected in her friends a certain wistfulness. It wasn’t a longing for more—for who could have more than the love they share?—or a wish for pomp and circumstance, for which neither of them could care less. But they did want more of their loved ones around, and they thought now it was too late to change their mind.
Freya, however, had angels on her side, both metaphorically and literally. She deputized the Seilers and Kara’s mother Annette, all of whom were delighted to assist in the planning of a surprise party. The restaurant was very helpful on short notice. And with each invitation went a whisper on wings, someone to murmur into the recipient’s ear how much it would mean to George and Kara if they would come. My Cupid friends were eager to help and very effective, for nearly everyone who was invited was now here to celebrate with the bride and groom.
George was stunned and beaming, but Kara zeroed in on Freya’s grin. “What the actual,” she said. “You do this, Cobb?”
“Shut up, I know you love it,” Freya answered.
Any other day Kara might have grumbled just out of spite, but today she laughed and threw her arms around Freya’s neck. “I guess I do,” she admitted and kissed Freya’s cheek. “But how the hell did you know?”
“Oh, I have my spies,” Freya said, winking at nothing—or at least nothing that Kara could see.
It was no difficulty to spend time with George and Kara in the weeks leading up to this happy day. Their joy has been clear to see, and it was so good to know that their only small regrets would soon be remedied.
Surrounded by the people they hadn’t expected to see, George and Kara were fully content. They ate and talked and laughed in a state of perfect repletion. Their auras blazed with love and confidence and hope, so that I could hardly take my eyes off them. I tried to describe the sight of them to Freya in a moment she sat down in a corner, half-hidden behind a potted plant to get a brief respite, but words did not come close.
“I think I see it though,” she whispered to me, “at least a little. And I feel it. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so perfectly and unselfishly happy for two people in my life.”
“But it’s all right to be a little selfishly happy,” I told her. “If it brings you joy to see the joy of people you love, what could be more natural?”
She sighed and leaned her head against the wall, exhausted but content. Then she looked at me. “And no one is going to spoil this for them, right?”
The same fierceness that jumped up in her heart was in mine, too, just as quickly. “Of course not. Your full contingent of protectors is ringing this place. I would defy even a squadron of Apostates to reach us here.”
Freya blinked. “All of them? All at once?” She knows now that there are at least ten Guardians and Cherubs who take it in turns to care for her, but she only ever senses them one at a time.
“They love you, too.” In fact my friends were eager to make up a part of this guard, and not only for Freya’s sake. We spend so much time in the darkness of the earth that this memory of great happiness will be a talisman for many of them in harder days to come.
She smiled. “I’ll have to thank them. But what about—”
Then she stopped, for the question she had been about to ask became unnecessary. She, like me, felt the blooming of power and goodness in the room, as Anteros appeared in the center of it, his wings spread.
I whispered hurried instructions to Freya and flew to greet him, bowing. “Elder, I did not mean that you should come yourself.”
“Do you mean that I am unwelcome, Asa’el?” he asked, amused.
“No, no, of course not! We are so honored that you would come to bless this couple—”
“They are so loved by much of heaven,” he answered, “and by one of its bravest daughters who stands on the earth. How could I not?” And his eyes followed Freya as she leaned out the door, murmuring to someone just outside.
I had no further words to express my gratitude. So I simply bowed again and stepped aside as Freya came back into the room and stood in the little space left between the tables, clapping her hands for silence.
“We have one more surprise for Mr. and Mrs. Seiler this afternoon,” she said, winking as Kara glared at her. “Of course I believed her when she said she didn’t want any of the ‘fuss and flutter’ of a traditional wedding—” That got a laugh, for Kara’s opinion of tradition is well known among those who love her. “But how better to start a life together,” Freya went on, “than with a dance?” And she motioned to the musicians who had arrived just half an hour ago, a string quartet which included none other than Kyle Rothman, who having once knocked his now-girlfriend over with his upright bass, has branched out into the cello in order to buy Anna a ring.
George needed no persuasion, but Kara grumbled and tugged back as he pulled her out onto the floor—until the music started playing. Then she laughed aloud and fell into his arms, for it was “Bittersweet Symphony” they played, a favorite song of hers.
And so they danced, and the room went quiet to let the music flow over them. And Anteros opened his great wings and folded them around the couple, closing them off from the world.
“May you have peace in one another,” he said to them, and his soft words seemed to carry over us all. “May you be safe always to speak truth to one another, and to let that truth guide you into the best choices for both of you. May you walk unafraid into the life that comes to you, knowing that you will never again be alone.”
And he bent his head and whispered a few words that only they could hear, and they shuddered and clung to one another, tears in both of their eyes.
Breathless and overwhelmed for reasons they couldn’t name, the guests took a moment after the music faded to begin to clap, but when they did the cheering was more fervent than ever before. George turned Kara to face them, his eyes blazing with gratitude and love, and she held her head high, accepting this gift and knowing that she would remember it always.
Even as Freya thanked the musicians, tipped them, and sent them on their way—Kyle had instructions to tell Anna to call her, for Freya intends to renew their friendship—I thanked Anteros again and again. He waved me off, a peaceful smile on his face. “Those two will do very well,” he said. “It is good to see.”
And then he was gone, and the guests began to trickle out, and Kara and George made their exit in a fog of delirious happiness, and finally Freya was alone, duty discharged, climbing into her car with a groan. “Oh, Ace, are you sure you can’t drive me? I’m so tired.”
“A good sort of tired, though?” I asked.
And she opened her eyes and smiled at me. “The best.”
It is my goal to see to it that such peace and happiness comes more and more often to her heart; I want to make it a daily thing for her.