Page 73 of Married into the Mob
Odell’s Uncle Stan hadn’t been invited. My mate went back and forth on that decision, wavering between wanting to punish the man and remembering how he’d been a loving father figure most of this life. But we promised to film the ceremony and to send him some cake.
My mate wavered on how to fit his uncle into his life. There were no rules for that, but after speaking to Tony and Matt who had experience with family members’ betrayal, he decided their relationship would evolve with time and they’d work it out as they went along.
“I have forgiven him. That is for me, not him. He has to live with what he did,” he repeated often.
But he and Odell had never had “the hard talk.” My mate had only spoken to his uncle on the phone, but the conversations were superficial. That needed to change.
But not today.
Like Louisa, Stan had a renewed sense of purpose. He loved living in the countryside, had made friends with the guards, created a vegetable garden, and was making jellies and sauces with the produce. And while he was taken off the property during a full-moon run, I wondered if he’d caught on to who we were.
One last look in the mirror at my dark suit and pink shirt—Odell’s favorite color—and no tie. My cufflinks had belonged to Papa, they were sterling silver with a wolf insignia.
I strode outside onto the terrace. The fire pits had been lit and the kids corralled by their parents. Striding under the archway, I grinned at Uncle Arnie dressed in a new navy suit.
A rumbling and a straining engine heralded the approach of a vehicle, catching everyone’s attention, and we all looked toward the driveway. Odell was driving the Red Beast with Louisa beside him. They emerged, and his aunt tucked her arm in my mate’s. Walking up the aisle, they smiled at everyone, but I only had eyes for Odell, my Dellie. He looked a little pale, but grooms were supposed to be nervous on their wedding day.
He was wearing a linen suit and like me, a pink rose in the buttonhole.
“I love you.” I took his trembling hands. This was much better than our first fake marriage.
“Love you too.”
Uncle Arnie said words and more words. Our family chuckled and sighed as Odell and I said our vows.
Mine was very short. There were no words to describe how I felt about my mate.
“You were my partner in everything, from the moment we met, and no matter the challenge, you accepted it and met it head-on. I love you, Dellie.”
Now it was Odell’s turn.
“Hunter, you turned my life upside down, but in a good way. And now I like looking at life with my head on the ground and feet up.”
And when I brought out the rings, Odell awwed. I’d had the paperclips coated in gold so the twisted shape was still visible.
“They’re engraved. ‘From a paperclip to forever.’”
Everyone sobbed, even Uncle Arnie dabbing at his eyes. We removed the temporary wedding bands and replaced them with the permanent ones.
“Husband and husband forever bonded,” he intoned.
We kissed, but Odell pulled away. “I love you, but?—”
He turned, leaned over, and threw up.
“Ewww,” the kids said.
Everyone leaped up, and I held my mate’s shoulders as he heaved. Tony grabbed napkins from the table, Ranger poured water into a tall glass, and the children were pointing out vegetables in my mate’s puke.
“Uncle Dellie ate some carrots,” Lottie said. My niece and nephews used the name Dellie because it was easier to pronounce.
Everyone was concerned except my dad who was grinning, doing baby claps, and dancing on his tippy toes.
When my Dellie finished heaving, he rested his head on my chest. “I ruined the wedding.” He sniffed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are you kidding? We’ll remember this until the end of our days.”
“Must be a tummy bug, but I feel a little better.”
