Page 124 of Mr. Fixer Upper
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They arrived just before the glossy white doors to the Portland Unitarian Church closed and scooted into a pew next to her sister. “It’s about time,” the ever-punctual Dr. Lisa St. James said pointedly.
“Good to see you, too, Lis,” Gannon said, pressing a peck to his sister-in-law’s cheek before slinging his arm around Paige’s shoulders.
“He looks happy,” Paige said, nodding at the groom who beamed like a beacon at the front of the sanctuary.
“He’s got a lot to be happy about,” Lisa nodded.
Paige dug into her clutch for her tissue stash and offered one to her sister. Lisa shook her head.
“Softy,” Gannon whispered in Paige’s ear, his thumb caressing the bare flesh of her shoulder.
“Weddings always get me. And if memory serves, you got a little misty-eyed at ours,” she pointed out.
“Allergies,” he claimed.
The music rose and the doors to the back of the church opened. Malia, in a flouncy pink dress and a tiara that sat on her fuzzy new growth of hair, strutted down the aisle. Her pink high tops visible under the miles of tulle in her skirt. She skipped and then ran, jumping into the arms of the man at the end of the aisle.
Gannon cleared his throat, and Paige elbowed him in the gut. “Yeah, try not to tear up, tough guy.”
“Crap.” Lisa snatched one of the tissues from Paige and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“Just think, Lis. This wedding wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you,” Gannon whispered.
“All I did was match a patient to a trial.” But there was a slight curve to her lips.
The church doors opened again, and this time they all rose as Carina, resplendent in yards of ivory, floated down the aisle. The designer gown was fitted to her lean frame as if it had been sewed onto her body. Miles of veil trailed behind her. She was a breathtaking bride with eyes only for her daughter and soon-to-be husband, the man who had saved Malia’s life.
She was so happy. There wasn’t a person in the building that couldn’t sense the radiating joy.
Paige didn’t even bother trying to stem the happy tears.
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“Gannon! Paige!” Malia barreled across the dance floor and jumped into Gannon’s waiting arms.
“Hey there, pipsqueak.” He spun her around, lifting her toward the tulle and light draped beams above their heads and she squealed.
“I’m so glad you guys are here. Did you see my shoes? Aren’t they awesome?”
“They are awesome,” Paige said, returning Malia’s one-armed hug. “How’s school going?”
“Good! I’m playing baseball! I’mreallygood,” she announced.
“I bet you are,” Gannon said, setting her back down. “So what do you think of your new stepdad?”
Malia looked over her shoulder where her parents were posing in front of the bar. “He’s kind of the best. And he’s super smart. He says I can be a doctor like him if I want to but that I shouldn’t make up my mind too early.”
Paige laughed. “He sounds like the best.”
Carina and Dr. Singh waved in their direction. “I’d better go,” Malia said. I want to make sure I get a good piece of cake.” She dashed off, her pink sneakers squeaking cheerfully on the wood floor.
Gannon took Paige in his arms again, moving to the music. “God, I love that kid.”
“You’d be a horrible human being if you didn’t,” Paige pointed out.
“Maybe we should have some,” he said, his face serious, but eyes dancing.
