My grandparents' old bedroom had become the dressing area for me and the bridesmaids.  The guys are using the pool house.  I'm sure there is scotch involved, but I trust the boys will send Logan to the altar in one piece.  If they didn't, they'd have to answer to Mother.  Honor volunteered to help me get ready.  It was a kind nod from her own wedding.  Grandma hired a hair stylist and make-up artist.

"Rory, you shouldn't have to do anything yourself today!  If you don't let me throw you a big wedding, the least you can do is let me pamper you," she said with determination in her voice.

She had already been such a big help in planning that I had told her she didn't need to do anything else.  In true Emily style, she persisted and I caved.  I love Grandma and I know this will be her some much-needed happiness. 

After each bridesmaid was styled to perfection, simple and elegant.  Now, it was my turn.  The stylist gave me some gentle curls, pulling my hair back on the left with a simple barrette.  The make-up artist took over.  Her touch was light and natural.  She put on very little make-up.  My eyes looked bluer than they ever had before.  They were my favorite feature, and I shared them with my mom.  I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror, drinking in the details.  I'm not a terribly vain person, but I felt as beautiful as my reflection.

"You look so stunning, kid!"  I heard my mom's voice behind me.  She looked over my shoulder at our reflection.

"Rory, I hate to be the one to ruin a beautiful moment, but the ceremony is rapidly approaching.  We need to get you into this dress!"  Honor said to me.

"Oh, wow!  I don't have much time at all!"  I say as I move towards Honor.  I take off my clothes.  She opens the dress so I can step into it.  She pulls it up over my hips and pauses.  I put my arms through the holes and Honor pulls it up the rest of the way.  She closes the back of the dress.  The room goes silent except for a gasp.  I turn to see who made the noise and it was Grandma.  I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.  Mom moved over to comfort her.

"Rory, you look breath-taking.  I wish that your Grandfather could be here to see you.  He was so proud of you and the wonderful, independent woman you have become," she said, nearly in tears.  She was desperate to hold it together, to be the strong, stoic woman I have always known.

"Thank you, Grandma," I reply, nearly in tears myself.

"If you start crying, you'll ruin your make-up, Rory," Paris warned.  Leave it to Paris to break the mood, but this time I was thankful.  It was already and emotional day, my grandfather's absence makes it all the more bittersweet.

Honor moved over to me with my shoes.  "Better get these on!  You're walking down the aisle in 10 minutes!"

Honor gave me a quick hug and headed downstairs.  Lane handed me my simple bouquet of roses and calla lilies in ivory to match my dress.  The bridesmaids all carried a smaller version of the same.  The ladies walked out the door and to the stairs.  I took a deep breath and followed.  As I stepped down, I held onto the banister to steady myself.  From the bottom of the stairs everyone watched me descend.  I saw that look in my mother's eyes as she darted toward the front door.

"I smell snow," she said.  I followed her.  She opened the door and I looked out over her shoulder.  Snow was quietly falling from the skies, blanketing the ground and turning the world white. 

"It's a sign," she said with a smile. 

The processional music began.  Two-by-two, I watched them line up and disappear through the door to the living room.  Chairs were arranged in rows, filling the room.  It had been transformed into a candle-lit sanctuary.  There was a fire's gentle glow next to Logan, who watched me as I entered the room.  A smile emerged on Logan's face.  His eyes sparkled in the candlelight.  I felt myself smiling in response, feeling a little shy at the same time.  This day had finally arrived and it was so surreal.

The music shifted to a familiar melody.  The guests all stood up, as is traditional when the bride walks down the aisle.  My father stepped up beside me.  He was smiling and excited.  Dad was taken aback when I first told him.  Rather than do it over the phone, we met for lunch.  He knew there was something going on when I didn't touch the coffee he ordered for me before I got there.  Coffee is such a blabbermouth.  I explained everything to him.  Of course, he offered to pay for the wedding and a myriad of other things, but I told him it wasn't necessary.

"Are you ready, kiddo?"

"Mm-hmm," I replied.  He took my arm and put it through his as he led me forward.  What was this song?  Then it hit me: Moon River.  It was the song Logan and I first danced to at my grandparents' vow renewal.  He had remembered after all of these years.

Dad and I arrived near the front, where Luke met us.  Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek and nodded at Luke.  I know they will never be anything resembling friends, but they are putting their differences aside.....for me.  I wanted them both to be a part of the ceremony and thought this was a good compromise.  Luke has always been like a father to me.  It was only a few steps and we met Logan.  A kiss on the forehead from Luke and I was standing at the front with Logan.  Reverend Skinner began the ceremony.

Before we knew it, it was time to kiss.  A soft kiss closed the ceremony.  Moon River resumed playing as we made our way down the aisle together.  I was happier than I had ever been and it seemed Logan was in agreement.  When we had disappeared from sight, Logan turned to me and kissed me deeply, passionately.  "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he said with a smile.  I couldn't help but laugh.

The wedding party exited and people started to file out of the living room to greet us.  There were about fifty people who came, mostly close friends and family.  We wanted to keep this low-key.  There are a lot of laughs, hugs, and kisses as our guests filtered through.  Many had stopped off at the make-shift bar for beverages.  The photographer rounded us the wedding party and immediate family.  She took some wonderful pictures.  They represented our style, happy with a bit of whimsy.  My favorites are the ones with the groomsmen and the three generations of Gilmores.  I guess you could consider it four generations.