Page 63 of Someone to Remember
“What’re we going to do about the wedding?” I ask. “If we decide to postpone, we need to do it sooner rather than later, so we can tell people who are traveling.”
“I don’t think we should postpone.”
“But—”
He plants a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. “Hear me out on this. After we attend Will’s funeral and do everything we can to help Taylor and the kids through these first days, it might be good for everyone to have a reason to celebrate.”
“I’m not sure I can do that to Taylor.”
“What would she want you to do?”
I drop my head to his shoulder. “She’d want me to have the wedding, even if she’s not up for attending.”
“Then that’s what we ought to do. It might be just what the rest of our widows need to restore their faith in optimism.”
“You’re right, as usual. I just don’t want to appear selfish in the midst of Taylor’s unimaginable loss.”
“Iris, my love… That’s the last thing anyone who truly knows you would ever think you are.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“It’s the God’s honest truth. You’re the least selfish person any of us has ever met.”
“You know I’m a sure thing, right? I’m going to marry you, so you don’t need to fill my head with sweet nothings.”
“I’ll always fill your head with sweet everythings.”
“I’m so glad I ended up naked in your bed by mistake.”
His snort of laughter makes me laugh, too. “Mistake, my ass.”
“There’s nothing about your ass that’s a mistake. It’s a work of art.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so, and as the wife, I’m always right.”
“Is that a fact? Maybe I should reconsider this wedding.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Wouldn’t think of it, love. I can’t wait to be married to you.”
“I can’t wait either,” I say with a giddy little laugh that I instantly regret when I think of what Taylor must be feeling this morning.
“Don’t do that, Iris.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Feel guilty for being happy. Taylor wouldn’t want that either.”
“Quit knowing me so well. It’s maddening.”
That earns me another big laugh, every one of them a victory when I think about the somber man who joined our group after the most tragic of losses.
“What do you say to marrying me on Thanksgiving weekend?”
I smile as I kiss him. “I say, I do.”
