Page 19 of Accidentally Marrying the Best Man
April laughs. “She’s got his stubborn streak. Jay swears he wasn’t like that as a kid, but Nick tells a different story.”
I pretend I’m not melting with happiness. It’s been three years since that first fragile night as Mr. and Mrs. King. Three years of every high and low and sideways day we never saw coming. Three years since the wedding that wasn’t—and then a real one, in the courthouse, two months later with Jay as best man, and April as matron of honor.
Now, we’re here and nothing in my life is perfectly tidy, but it finally feels like it fits.
I made partner and enjoyed it for six months before resigning from the firm. Now I run my own office, still practicing family law, in every area except divorce.
Mack squeals as Nick sweeps him up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, both of them howling.
Lola stomps her foot in the sand. “I want a ride onmydaddy’s shoulders.”
A snort escapes me. “Parenting. A sport that’s better as a spectator than contestant.”
April grins, handing me the bottle of sunscreen. “Want a drink?”
I fake-groan. “Do you even have to ask?”
She pours me some spiked lemonade. We clink glasses and sit in companionable silence for a moment, breathing in pineand sunscreen while listening to the hum of Nick and Jay’s laughter.
“Remember the old days?” I say finally. “When weekends meant brunch and not being up before sunrise?”
April cracks her knuckles. “And hangovers. I do not miss those. Now I get up at dawn to negotiate peace treaties over whether a sippy cup is blue or purple.”
I tip my glass to her. “Here’s to progress.”
Jay and Nick are plotting something at the edge of the dock. Jay scoops a reluctant Lola under one arm, Nick grabs Mack, and in a flurry of wiggling limbs and toddler outrage, the dads count down with exaggerated glee. “Three…two…one.” They toss both kids, safely, feet first, squealing, into the shallowest stretch of water.
Lola pops up sputtering. “DAAAAAD!” While Mack is already hunting for rocks, giddy with shock at cold water, my heart snags in my chest with love and gratitude so overwhelming it feels practically embarrassing.
April shields her eyes. “Do you ever think we’ll have a peaceful vacation?”
I shake my head, hair sticking to the sunscreen on my shoulder. “If we do, I’ll be worried something’s wrong.”
Mack flings a soggy stick toward us, yelling, “Mama! Watch!”
Lola is not happy with Mack hogging the grownups’ attention. She flings a rock. “No, watch me. Watch me.”
April drums her fingers on her paperback. “Maybe one day, I’ll take less than a year to finish a book.”
I exhale slowly, with a half-smile on my lips. “Maybe. But probably not until they’re in high school. Maybe middle school, if we’re lucky.”
Mack runs toward me, moss and sand stuck to his knees. But Lola distracts him with a bucket she’s finally okay sharing with him.
Nick and Jay are huddled together, deep in “guy talk,” which seems to be about the aerodynamics of skipping rocks. The kids run to them, clinging to their legs.
Nick tips his head back, laughing at something Jay mutters. He looks up, finds my eyes. His smile widens, just for me.
April notices and elbows me. “You two are disgusting, you know. Still googly after all this time.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I don’t deny it. I used to be mortified by how visible my love was, how obvious. Now I let myself be smitten in public. “You and Jay are exactly the same?.”
She glances at her husband, her blue eyes gentle. “We are. I never thought I’d find this kind of love.”
Sometimes, in dark moments between midnight bottle-shakes and feverish foreheads, I wonder how any of us do it, this messy, stitched-together thing called marriage. But then I see Nick plant a kiss on Mack’s head, tussled hair sticking up like a renegade patch of grass, and I remember, you just keep showing up, again and again, with as much love as you can carry that day.
Down at the lake, the toy drama escalates. Lola glares with all the queenly disapproval of a monarch denied her scepter as Mack snatches a plastic duck, declaring, “Mine now.”
Lola bursts into tears so loud it echoes back from the far bank, and Jay rushes to scoop her up. “Hey, hey, Lo. Sharing is hard, but you know what’s even cooler? Trading. Look, let Mack have the duck, and I’ll help you find the purple boat.”
