The church ceremony had ended in a swirl of applause, rice tossed into the air, and more than one auntie crying into a lace handkerchief.
By the time Jane and Raye followed the crowd into the reception hall—a wide ballroom lit with glowing string lights and golden chandeliers—the air smelled of roasted meat, baked bread, and sugared pastries.
Tables were dressed in ivory cloth, the centerpieces fat bouquets of white roses and baby's breath with gold ribbons tied around the vases. A small live band was already tucked into one corner, the strum of a guitar warming the atmosphere while a singer's low Spanish ballad floated over the chatter.
Raye's eyes, however, went straight to the long buffet tables, stacked with trays of dishes she couldn't even pronounce.
"Bestie," she whispered, clutching Jane's arm, "is that… is that a whole roasted pig?"
Jane glanced, grinned. "Lechón. Traditional. Don't stare too long; it'll make you feel judged."
Raye clamped her lips shut but her stomach gave a traitorous growl.
Jane turned to stare at her friend with a Small smile and a raised brow .
Raye blushed embarrassed by her silly stomach , she raised her hand to cover her Jane's face who laughed out freely .
They weren't in the church again but now in the reception hall , so they wasn't any reason they should hold back .
"Don't look at me like that , you woke me around eight and I didn't have anything to eat ...don't judge me " she said pouting while Jane continue to laugh loudly .
Raye bit her lips rolling her eyes .
Dimwit she thought smiling softly as she stared at Jane , then at the guest .
They were seated near the front—family friends by proxy of being neighbors—and soon waiters started ferrying plates of appetizers to the tables. Tiny empanadas, tamales wrapped in banana leaves, and bowls of salsa with fresh tortillas.
Raye, utterly hopeless with the Spanish labels, kept leaning to Jane like a clueless tourist.
"What's this one?"
"Shredded beef."
"And this green thing?"
"Guacamole. You've literally had it before."
"Oh."
Jane smirked, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder, while Raye stuffed her face with the safe options: bread rolls and chicken skewers.
When the microphone crackled onstage, the hall quieted. The groom's brother stepped forward, raising a glass. He began in Spanish, his voice thick with emotion, words rolling too fast for Raye's ears.
"…mi hermano encontró su alma gemela…"
Raye blinked, fork mid-air. "Okay, did he just curse or bless him? I can't tell."
Jane snorted and whispered, "He said 'my brother found his soulmate.' Relax. Not everything's a telenovela insult."
Then the bride's uncle spoke, his booming voice commanding the whole hall. He shared jokes, the crowd laughing, but Raye sat frozen, nodding like she understood, cheeks stuffed with food.
"Smile and chew," Jane muttered. "That's your survival strategy tonight."
Raye obeyed, piling more arroz con pollo onto her plate.
The most emotional moment came when the groom's aunt took the microphone, her voice trembling. She explained how their mother couldn't attend the wedding because she was living in Italy, but had sent a letter and recorded video message. The big screen lit up with a middle-aged woman smiling warmly, speaking entirely in Spanish, her eyes wet with tears.
The hall went completely silent except for sniffles. People dabbed their eyes, the bride whose name was Rosa squeezed her new husband's hand, and Jane sat quietly, translating under her breath.
"She's saying how proud she is, how she wishes she could've been here… she calls him her sunshine. Says she can't wait to see grandkids."
Raye froze mid-bite of churro. "Did she just say—grandkids?!"
"Yep."
"They've been married for like, what, an hour? Can she let them breathe?"
Jane elbowed her, stifling a laugh. "Shhh!"
Raye sighed dramatically, stuffing another churro in her mouth to stay quiet while everyone else dabbed tears.
When the speeches ended, the band struck up an upbeat tune. Glasses clinked, champagne flowed, and waiters started serving the main courses—platters of enchiladas, grilled steak, spicy shrimp, creamy flan, and slices of tres leches cake.
Raye gave up on keeping track of names and just started pointing. "That. That. Ooh, and that." Her plate became a mountain, while Jane ate at a steady, civilized pace.
She was panicking so she ate too fast , and also she was hungry too .
"Bestie," Jane whispered, "they're gonna think you haven't eaten in three weeks." Jane turned to stare at Raye whistling softly . "At this rate you would look like a fat chicken and curse ,whatever makes you think I would carry you ".
Raye was about to take another spoon but kept it down laughing , she turned to stare at Jane before she burst out laughing as Jane also joined her .
"Am stressed out girl , don't mind me , ".
"Mhm just slow down, I really mean it, that I ....ain't ....gonna carry you ".
"I haven't—at least not like this," Raye shot back, licking frosting off her fork.
At one point, the groom's cousin leaned across the table, trying to engage Raye in conversation. He spoke rapid-fire Spanish, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Raye panicked, swallowing hard. "…Sí?"
Jane smacked her thigh under the table. "He asked if you liked the food, not if you wanted to marry him."
"Oh." Raye gave two thumbs up. "Good. Food. Bueno."
The cousin laughed politely, and Jane groaned, face in her hands.
By the time the dancing started, Raye was officially too full to move. She sat slouched in her chair, watching Jane get pulled onto the dance floor by one of the bride's cousins, her blonde hair catching the light as she twirled.
"Show-off," Raye muttered, picking up her phone inside her purse .
But in her heart, she couldn't deny it—it was one of the most beautiful weddings she'd ever attended. Even if she didn't understand half of what was said, she could feel it in the air: love, family, joy.
And for now, that was enough.