Page 67 of Blueberry Cake
“Soon to be Rickmann,” she corrected.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rickmann,” he hummed, hugging her tighter. “I love it.”
Queenie sank into the hot, bubbly water and the warm embrace of her new fiancé. “I love it too.”
Queenie
Eighteen Months Later
Queenie stared out the window, the tears in her eyes threatening to rival the pouring rain outside. The weather had been a dream all week, and she’d looked forward to tying the knot with Boyd in the stunning botanical garden they’d picked. But even with the provided awnings, the luscious green grass resembled more an ogre-infested swamp.
Gently, her mother stepped up behind her and placed a hand on the small of her back. “Would you like to talk to Boyd?”
“He can’t see me.”
“I think we can make it work.”
Queenie agreed, blinking away the tears to avoid ruining her makeup. Their wedding planner had already organised to have everything brought inside, but the inside of the venue was nothing compared to the gorgeous garden. She was shattered to say the least, and the only thing she wanted to do was curl up and cry.
“Boyd’s standing right outside the door and promised not to come in.” Her mother took her hand and guided her to the other side of the wood. “Everything is going to be justfine, sweetheart.” And with a kiss to her cheek, her mother stepped back to give the couple some space.
“Queenie…” Boyd hummed, instantly soothing the fire coursing through her veins. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be wonderful.”
“How? Everything is a disaster.”
A shadow beneath the door indicated Boyd stepping closer. Queenie rested her forehead against the wood, flattening her hand against it.
“This day is about you and me. Not the weather, not the venue, not even about the cake. It is about us.”
She sighed, trying to let his words drown out the disappointment weighing on her heart. Deep down, she knew he was right. But ever since they’d first walked through those rose bushes on their tour, it was all she could picture for her special day.
“I know you were excited about the garden. You’re allowed to be upset.”
“I just had this perfect picture in my head.”
“And it’s still perfect. In just an hour you will be walking down the aisle towards me, in a gorgeous, hand-sewn dress. At the end of it all, we’ll be husband and wife and that’s all that matters.”
“Boyd,” she whispered.
“I know it won’t be as you envisioned it and if I could, I would drag the sun out kicking and screaming.” Then he softly laughed again, the sound pulling at her heart’s strings. “Don’t you know that rain on your wedding day is good luck? A wet knot is nearly impossible to unfasten.”
“Can you close your eyes?”
“Of course.”
“No peeking!”
“I promise, I won’t.”
She slowly nudged the door open. His light beige suit was no surprise, he’d insisted they go together so he could be sure they matched in style, but he looked absolutelybreathtaking.“Don’t move either.”
“A very hard ask, but nothing compared to the mountains I would move for you.”
She let out a blubbery laugh and wrapped her arms around him. Inhaling his woodsy cologne, she rested her head against his chest. “I just don’t want you to feel the dress’ fabric.”
“I know, and I’d rather not ruin your hair.”
“I love you so very much.”
