The laughter erupts, and everyone raises their glasses, "Welcome, welcome."
I lift a glass of red wine, "Greetings to my friends and fellow villagers."
I down it in one gulp, and the applause thunders.
Zoe asks, "Is it good? It's from the farm's own produce, the '90 vintage, Uncle Yu Le's treasure."
"Mmm," I nod vigorously, "It's really good."
In the happiest day of my life, this wedding in the French countryside was always a bright spot worth reminiscing and savoring.
The sun shines on the ivory farmhouse, immersed in a sea of verdant vines, with the bride and groom in the garden, both young and beautiful, promising in front of the priest to love each other for a lifetime, surrounded by the applause and blessings of relatives and friends.
We cut the cake, pop the champagne; the groom shakes it vigorously, the froth splashing—it's a sign of good luck falling on everyone.
