Amy always thought it might be nice to get married in the rain, and not just because it would scare the guests away. As a girl she imagined a love so strong it could influence the very atmosphere and cause the clouds to open up, and it sounded to her like the stuff of fairytales.
Then there was the idea of the water itself, in her opinion the most sensual of Aristotle’s elements. Whenever she went out to dance in a summer shower, her skin seemed to open up, ready to feel everything at once.
Then she got old enough to really appreciate what bodies could do for each other, and began to savor the fantasy of coming inside from a storm, shivering, and doing what it would take to warm each other up. Sometimes she still thought she’d rather stay outside alone with the storm.
Even older than before, with image and deportment the most important things she could strive for, the rain was a blessing in yet another form. Amy couldn’t possibly be blamed for an imperfect ensemble if it was the rain that deflated her hair or rumpled her skirts. Anything could be construed as an act of God if you were clever enough.
But on the morning she is finally about to get married, and it’s finally going to be canceled thanks to a deluge of nerves, she finds she can’t let her best friend get caught in the rain where he will catch pneumonia. Rain may be something to be saved from, at last, but it brings two people together and she’s the next bride!