Page 64 of More With You

A thought suddenly comes to me. “Mr. T, would you and Ms. T walk me down the… grass?” I’ve never liked the idea of being “given away,” but I like the idea of them supporting me the entire way to my new life.

“What?” Mr. T suddenly gets shiny-eyed.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” I flounder. “It was just a—”

“It’d be our honor,” Mr. T interrupts, as if he thinks I might rescind the invitation.

Ms. T heaves out a guttural sob. “You can’t get out of this car until you’ve got your veil!”

She pulls me sideways, so she can get at the back of my head. With shaky hands, she fixes the slide of the veil into my hair, and the gauzy white fabric cascades over my face, giving the world a romantic haze. It’s far too fancy for the simple, white maxi-dress that I had in my collection, but I feel… well, like a bride. I wasn’t sure if I was going to. I guess Ms. T was right, as always: I needed the finishing touch.

With that, Mr. T gets out of the car and comes around to my side. He lets Ms. T out first before opening my door and offering his arm. I take it, feeling the rising swell of excitement inside my chest. Ms. T takes my other arm and, together, we walk toward the temporary wedding arch that’s been set up in front of the beautiful old cypress.

The preacher nudges Ben, who still has his back to me.

“Daddy! Summer is here!” Grace jumps up, running to me with a daisy chain in her hands. She offers it up to me. “It’s for your hair.”

I smile. “Thank you very much. It’s perfect.” It really is, so I take it and place it on top of the veil.

As I look back up, Ben’s eyes are on me: his mouth open in astonishment. The good kind, I hope. His eyes don’t leave mine as I walk the rest of the way toward him, guided by Mr. and Ms. T, with Grace out in front. The long skirt of my dress and the trailing, gossamer gauze of my veil flaps behind me like dove wings trying to take flight.

“You came,” he murmurs, holding out his hands to take mine.

I grin, smiling at the friction of his rough palms against my skin. “There was too much traffic to make a run for it.”

“Tell me about it. I left half an hour early, and I still thought I was going to be late. I blame Pastor Cooke. He kept checking his reflection in the mirror, and wouldn’t leave until his robes were just right,” he jokes, looking like all of his Christmases have come at once.

The preacher chuckles. “I was eating my dinner, actually. There’s half a chicken leg waiting for me when I get home.”

“Sorry, Pastor Cooke,” I say shyly. “This is all a bit last minute, I know.”

The preacher puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “This is exactly when it’s supposed to be, Miss Larson. No apologies necessary. A bayou wedding between two wonderful folks at sunset is far more exciting than a lonely chicken dinner.” He grins, and I decide I like this guy. “Now, should we get started before my robes blow off altogether? It’ll make a good story on your fortieth anniversary, but I might never live it down.”

I laugh and grip Ben’s hands tighter. “I’m ready.”

“Alright, then.” The preacher opens up his Bible and begins to read. With the sunset stretching across the sky, putting on a light show to beat any fireworks display; the bayou catching the burnished glow in a never-ending glitter, the trees swaying with the warm breeze, and Ben smiling at me like that while Grace hugs his leg and stares up at us with the widest grin I’ve ever seen, I truly feel like I’m in the presence of something greater than myself, than any of us.

Love.

* * *

The Bayou Bend is a fairy glen of lights and music and free-flowing booze, with fifty strangers cheering and celebrating the marriage of two people they don’t know. It’s the perfect end to a perfect wedding. The Bayou Bend always attracts a crowd when their rickety doors open, and the owners are doing Ben a favor. They’re making it worth their while, and I’m more than content to share my happy news with whoever wants to hear.

“Come here, wife of mine.” Ben takes my hands and pulls me across the dirt dance floor, slipping one arm around my waist while his other hand interlaces with my fingers.

I sink into him, hooking my arm around his shoulder as I nestle into his chest. “This is perfect, Ben.”

“I hoped you’d like it,” he replies softly, dipping his head to steal a kiss. He tastes of strawberries and tequila: his lips intoxicating.

We sway to a song that’s probably not first-dance appropriate, smiling against each other’s mouths as our kiss deepens, igniting a crackle of eager tension between us. It’s not that late, but I could do this all night. Just be with him, in his arms, riding a wave of love without having to think about anything else. This is, hands down, the happiest night of my life, and there have been a few contenders lately.

As for our sweet little bridesmaid, she’s fast asleep in the backseat of Mr. T’s car, while the trusty Thibodeauxs watch over her. The music and the hollering and the random cheers don’t stir her at all, but I’m glad she’s nearby for the rest of our celebration, even if she won’t remember any of it. After all, she’s my family now. I guess, technically, I’m her stepmom, but I’m not going to press that kind of title on her. She can call me whatever she wants, for as long as she wants, and as long as she’s happy, then everything is fine. Cloud-Nine happiness.

“There’s something I want to say,” Ben murmurs, breaking our kiss for a moment as we continue to sway to the rhythm of the song. “I didn’t want to keep Pastor Cooke from his chicken dinner, so I’ve saved it for now.”

I smile. “I’m all ears.”

“I love you,” he whispers. “I didn’t realize it, but before you came along, I was living in a constant Fall—waiting for Winter to come. I thought I’d squandered the Summer of my life, giving all my time to my work and forgetting about almost everything else. Then, Grace came along, and she was the moment that the trees started to turn, holding onto their youth and beauty. As long as I had her, I figured I didn’t mind the Fall and I could keep Winter at bay for another twelve years, at least. I didn’t expect you to appear in my life and turn those leaves green again, giving me a second Summer. It makes sense that you’d have that name. You’re my Summer. My eternal Summer. With you, there never needs to be a Winter.”

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