Page 36 of Own the Eights Gets Married
“Would you walk me down the aisle, Mr. Gilbert?” she asked.
Gene tapped his hearing aid. “This thing must be on the fritz. It sounded like you asked this old codger to walk you down the aisle,” he teased, but his playful expression dissolved into a teary smile.
“Well?” she asked, her gaze growing glassy.
He steepled his hands and stared at his wedding ring. “Marjorie and I weren’t able to have children. Did you know that?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know.”
“We’ve always thought of your father as a son and you as a granddaughter, especially now that your grandparents have passed.”
“You have?”
He patted her hand. “Why, sure! What do you think we’re doing here in your shop all the time? Do you think we eat those muffins because they’re good? We order them because we love you,” he added, with a cheeky grin, but the shine in his eyes betrayed his snarky words.
She wiped another tear from her cheek. “Hey, codger, I’ve watched you eat three of my chocolate chip muffins in one sitting.”
“Maybe they’re not that bad,” he countered.
“So, are you in on this crazy wedding? Will you walk me down the aisle?” she asked.
The man nodded. “I’d be honored to stand in for your dad, Georgie.”
“What’s all this?” Marjory asked, patting Gene’s tear-streaked cheek as she joined them at the counter. “You’re not readingChicken Soup for the Soulagain, are you? Sweetheart, you sobbed for days.”
Gene kissed his wife’s cheek. “No chicken soup books, dear. Georgie asked me to walk her down the aisle.”
“Georgie, that’s so lovely of you,” the woman said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“I’m the lucky one. I’m so grateful to the both of you,” Georgie replied with a wide, teary grin as the door to the shop opened, and Jordan entered the cozy space.
She waved him over. “Guess who’s going to walk me down the aisle?”
“I am!” Gene answered before Jordan could even guess.
“That’s terrific news,” Jordan said, shaking the man’s hand.
Her fiancé had grown especially fond of Mr. Gilbert.
“I see you don’t have your cane with you, Gene,” Jordan observed with a triumphant nod.
“Nope, I haven’t needed it since I started training with you,” the man replied, going into a bodybuilder pose that had them all laughing.
Jordan had talked Gene into a few training sessions that had bloomed into ongoing twice-weekly workouts.
“And there have been other benefits,” Gene said, lowering his voice.
“Other benefits?” Georgie asked, stealing a glance at Jordan.
Mr. Gilbert slid off the barstool and straightened up. “Let’s just say my wife doesn’t mind having a more virile husband around the house.”
Marjory blushed like a schoolgirl. “You’re terrible, Gene! Now, come on. Let’s let Jordan and Georgie have a moment together,” the woman said, threading her arm with her husband’s as they returned to the group of knitting ladies.
“It looks like Mrs. Gilbert is all over Mr. Gilbert,” Jordan teased as Mr. Gilbert surreptitiously patted his wife’s bottom before she took her seat.
“I’d say you’ve got a client for life. How was your workout with the high school kids this afternoon? Did you find a trainer to step in while we’re at bridal boot camp?” Georgie asked, straightening a row of coffee mugs.
At the mention of boot camp, her fiancé beamed. “I did. Sara’s going to fill in, and Simon said he’d be able to help out and run the after-school workouts.”
