Page 72 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
I blink rapidly to keep tears from escaping my eyes as I walk down the grassy path behind Grace. She looks lovely in her beautiful wedding gown, trimmed with primrose pink piping and white lace. Her soft tulle veil is trimmed with the same piping and lace. My matron of honor gown is primrose, as was Cece’s flower girl dress. Our friend, Gabrielle, had flown in from New York, and Sherry is the third bridal attendant.
I turn my wedding and engagement ring set with my thumb. Charles had ordered the set specially made. The wedding band is plain gold, with the words “Love you forever,” engraved inside it. The engagement ring has four gems in it – my birthstone and Charles, Cece’s, and Abigail’s. Surreptitiously, I smooth my hand over the swell of my latest pregnancy. So much for Charles fears of sterility! If the ultrasounds are correct, this one would be a boy. When he is safely in the world, we will add another birthstone.
My brother, James, waits at the altar. He is supported by my husband, Gabrielle’s boyfriend – a tall, dark-haired fellow with an unpronounceable name, and Sherry’s boyfriend, Raymond. The altaris set up in front of the small Ark of the New World chapel. It is a low, wide building mostly built into an artificial hill. It looks rustic but was built to withstand both tornados and earthquakes. It wasn’t bombproof, although it could probably stand up to most home-made terrorist attacks. Various neighborhood faiths schedule times of worship. I wasn’t in on that planning committee, but it seems to be working amiably.
Ours is a gated community, almost completely self-sufficient. Cece’s kidnapping when she was five had left its mark on all of us. It is filled with people we knew and trusted – Sherry and her parents, Gabriella and her friend had a summer house, Gregory and his growing family, Grace, and her parents, and even Manuela and her extended family. It had taken some persuading to get Manuela to move out of the city, but offering her daughters work in the Spindizzy clinic and scholarships for college classes at the KU Spindizzy extension center had done the job.
I thought back nostalgically to my own wedding ceremony with Charles. In spite of his desire to offer his name to me immediately, we’d had to wait until he had medical leave. And it had been more beautiful for the waiting. Cece still often called me Miss Kate, but after Abigail was born, she also frequently called me “Mom.” No other title in the world could have made me happier, save perhaps one: the way Charles said ‘wife’ when speaking to me and about me.
Another of my dreams had also come true. After the pandemic isolation lifted, people were desperate for quality childcare. I now ran my own childcare center, underwritten by Agri-Oil, so we never had to worry about supplies, teacher salaries, or nutritious food for meal preparation. We not only meet childcare standards, we exceed them.
Our youngsters are carefully introduced to plants and animals – after being checked for allergies, of course. We have specialized teachersfor children who have disabilities or trauma. The center also acts as a no-kill shelter for unwanted, injured, or otherwise misplaced animals. Animals and children are housed separately, but with plenty of opportunities for supervised interaction. For some of them, it is part of their therapy.
Grace joins James at the altar and the members of the bridal party likewise join their partners. It might not have been traditional, but no one there really cares. They follow our example and keep the ceremony short and sweet.
After their final “I do”, teams of guests quickly bring out a dance platform, fitting it together like giant puzzle pieces. As soon as it is together, the Spindizzy high school band strikes up a waltz, and the bridal couple steps out on the floor for their first dance as a married couple.
As soon as they are finished, Uncle Toohot and Aunt Ninny step out onto the dance floor and seriously own it dancing the boogie-woogie. After that, everyone is dancing. Charles and I sway together at one edge – his hip will never be up to fancy dance moves.
“Do you know what day this is?” he ask.
“No, why?” I return, although I actually do know.
“This is the third anniversary of the day that you first stepped into my penthouse apartment.” He smiles down at me, and his arm tightens around me just a little.
“Regrets?” I ask.
“None at all,” he says, running one hand down my back and pulling me to him so that he molded himself around the beginnings of our third child. “We have made a family. Not just you, me, Cece, and Abigail, but this whole town.”
“A community,” I say, “Made up of all sorts of people, so our girls will never think that all people look the same or need to be the same. A place where people and pets can share.”
“Yes,” Charles replies. “What do you suppose Gidget has eaten while we are busy?”
“Nothing,” I say, as there was a yip in the distance, “because I hired a teen with ambitions to become a veterinarian to look after her and bring her here on her lead. I would have made similar arrangements for Mr. Fluffy, but I don’t think he would have liked it.”
“Probably not,” Charles agrees. “Let’s go over to the refreshment table. It looks as if they are getting ready to cut the cake.”
We held hands, watching Grace and James exchange bites of cake, then we joined the line of people waiting to receive cake, ice cream, and drinks. “It is so beautiful here,” I say.
“We worked hard to make it so,” Charles replies, looking around at the U-shaped cluster of homes flanking the chapel. Each house is planned to maximize use of the sun and earth for heating and cooling. Tall windmills, caged to keep birds from getting caught in their blades, turned lazily. Solar collectors adorn roofs. Windows are open on greenhouses to let in the fresh spring breezes and bees from the young orchards behind the houses. The lawns are mats of herbs, clover, and dandelions – no labor and energy intensive grass lawns here, but still room for croquet and kickball.
Children run everywhere, dodging in and out among the adults.
“I’m glad my father was still alive for our wedding,” I say, watching my mother dancing with Uncle Toohot. Six months ago, Dad had gone to sleep and not awakened. Mom is having a hard time getting over the loss. She had not wanted to stay in the retirement village, or move back to the farm, so Charles, James, and the building work crew had created a special “dowager’s cottage” or “dowdy house” as the Amish call it. It is a bio-ark just like all the other houses, but smaller and easier to manage.
Some special features includeda huge fish tank, year-round salad beds, and nearly every kind of houseplant you can imagine. There is also a care-giver’s room, which Mom promptly “rented” out to a student who needed a place to stay. So far, the arrangement is working well. It helps that Cece, the Weber cousins, and other neighborhood children are in and out all day. Mom gets tired sometimes, and we have to shoo the children away for an hour or two, but she doesn’t have time to get lonely.
“So am I,” Charles says soberly. Neither of his parents are still with us, nor Emily’s parents. Cece and Abby has to make do with Mom, Uncle Toohot, and Aunt Ninny as resident seniors to listen to their woes, share their joys, and generally impart wisdom into their young ears. It might not necessarily take a village to raise a child, but it is good to have more than one source of adult interaction.
“Did you ever think this would happen?” I ask.
“I had no idea,” Charles replies, “but I treasure every minute of it. Most of all, I love my time with you. You should come work at my office more often.”
I laugh. “That doesn’t quite work on my teaching days. I’m not sure your corporate team would survive 20 five-year-olds, and three teaching assistants.”
“They should get over it,” Charles whispers softly in my ear, sending delicious chills down my spine. “It would do them all good. But your point is taken.”
I snuggle closer to him, swaying in time with the music and the beating of his heart. There is only one place I would rather be, and we would be there tonight. That place is in our large, comfortable bed, with the children tucked into bed in their rooms.
