Page 93 of The Wedding Run
“Not anyone your age,” Dad says, “so relax.”
“Good!” Elle grins. “So, we’re not going to be in the AJC.”
“Or theNational Enquirer,” Charlie adds. “But why now?”
“There’s a time to mourn,” he says, “and a time to dance.”
“When you’re ready,” I say, “we throw a heck of a wedding!”
“You do!” Dad agrees. “How was that wedding with the nervous bride?”
“A success,” I say. “Couldn’t have done it without Charlie and Elle’s help.”
Elle nudges Dad with her shoulder. “You can’t change the topic. Who is she?”
He looks sheepish and clearly uncomfortable with these new feelings.
I probe with, “Delia?”
Dad appears taken aback.
“The owner of the B&B?” Elle asks.
“Or, as some call her, Debbie.” Charlie makes us all laugh.
Elle hugs him. “Nice going, Dad.”
“A strong, independent woman,” Charlie declares. “Can you handle it?”
A smile sneaks across his face, lighting up his eyes. “I’ve had lots of practice with strong, independent women.”
“Just make sure she’s all in,” I say.
Dad tilts his head and looks over at me.
“She figured it out,” Charlie explains.
“About the teabag,” Elle adds.
“Momma,” I say, “worried we wouldn’t see a happily-ever-after marriage because she was gone. But because of you, Dad, we did. We witnessed the enduring impact of love and commitment.”
Tears spring to his eyes. “Do you think,” he asks in a huskier voice, “that your mother would be okay… with me dating?”
I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “Yes.”
Elle leans against him. “Absolutely.”
“She’d want you to be happy, Dad.” Charlie reaches a hand forward, and we all clasp hands over Bailey’s back. “Like we do.”
Bailey adds a bark of agreement.
CHAPTER 48
Libby
After our meeting in the park, filled with hugs and laughter—and chasing after Bailey, who spotted a squirrel—I head to my apartment, mentally listing all the tasks I need to tackle: laundry, cleaning, returning wedding gifts, and, of course, thank-you notes. I’m ready to get my life organized.
But all the daunting tasks make me want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and hibernate for a week. Then I remember Luke and his ‘goin’ fishing’ philosophy. I take a detour and stop by Green Leaves Nursery.
