A warm, quiet laugh slipped out of Annette. Again. I wasn’t keeping track but it was easily the fifth time she’d giggled to herself in recent memory and I wasn’t having it. Nope. I was operating on a few non-sequential hours of sleep thanks to Elliott teething and hitting a growth spurt, and I wasn’t having any more of this lady’s random chuckles.
“For fuck’s sake, Annette.” I set down my foundation brush and glared at her in the mirror. “If you don’t tell me why you have a serious case of the giggles, I’m going to assume Jackson put it in the wrong hole last night and you’re just imagining the shocked-but-secretly-thrilled look on his face when it happened.”
“It sounds like you’re familiar with the shocked-but-secretly-thrilled expression,” Annette replied.
“My familiarities are not the topic of this conversation,” I said. “Will you just tell me what you’re laughing about? Creepy-laughing at the bride on her wedding day has to be bad luck. You know I’m not one for tradition but you’re making second guess this.”
“And there it is,” she said, laughing yet again.
“There is what?”
She jabbed an eyebrow pencil in my direction. “You, my dear, sweet, psychotic friend, are freaking out.”
I turned away from the mirror to face her head on and folded my arms over my torso. “I’m what?”
“Freaking out,” she repeated with a laugh. “You and JJ decided you wanted to get married, and since you’ve had less than a week to plan and think about this whole thing, you haven’t had time to realize what this all means until now.” She glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Half an hour before the ceremony. Right on time. You forget that I know you. I know you don’t like being the center of attention unless you’re in complete control.”
The woman had some fair points. This wedding had been thrown together like a half-assed potluck but I happened to enjoy half-assed potlucks. Considering Jed was working insane hours to open the distillery in twenty-nine days and I still played financial Tetris and we had an infant with two teeth on the way, a voracious appetite, and a casual interest in naps, a half-assed potluck seemed like an outstanding achievement.
But I wasn’t freaking out. I was too sleep deprived to manage a reaction at that level. Too sleep deprived and too full of ass-over-elbow love for all the unexpected things in my life now. Jed and Elliott and our friends and the little family we’d created here in Talbott’s Cove. Unexpected. So fucking unexpected. I’d never once imagined this life for myself. I’d never imagined this…contentedness.
I was exhausted and I didn’t recognize my body and, on most days, I was certain I didn’t know the first thing about being a mother—let alone wife—to anyone. And I woke up every morning—or middle of the goddamn night—content.
What the fuck was that about?
Where did contentedness come from? And why did it come for me?
I’d wondered about that more than once in the months since my father’s death and my son’s birth. There were several occasions where I wondered whether I deserved it, whether I deserved any of this.
I’d wondered about it last weekend while Elliott slept on Jed’s bare chest, his little hands curled into fists and his lips twisted as if he was angry about being tricked into napping.
I whispered, “How did I get all of this?”
He reached over, pulled me close to his side, and asked, “How do I get you forever?”
“Are you under the impression I’m going somewhere?”
He tucked a few strands of unwashed hair over my ear and smiled down at my milk-stained t-shirt. “It’s not about staying or going. It’s about…permanence.”
I brushed a finger over Elliott’s bald head. “This feels rather permanent, Jed. Not sure we could get any more permanent than having a child together.”
“You’re right. We’ll always be connected because of him,” Jed replied. “What about being connected because of us?”
I glanced up at him. “Are you waiting for me to propose?”
“Bam, I’ve been waiting for the past year,” he replied. “If not longer.”
We stared at each other for a moment. “No churches,” I said.
He nodded once. “No banquet halls.”
“No white dresses,” I added.
“No tuxes.”
“No bouquet tossing,” I said.
“No cake smashing.” He nodded again. “Just you and me—”
“And Elliott,” I added.
“Of course Elliott,” Jed agreed. “Neither of us have spent more than six hours away from him since he was born. The time we went out for the night and—”
“When he spit up directly into Jackson’s mouth?”
Jed laughed. “So damn proud of this kid.”
“You and me and Elliott,” I said. “And Annette. Jackson too. And Nate.”
“Cole and Owen,” Jed added. “Maybe a few others.”
I dropped my head to his shoulder. “Maybe.”
He pressed a kiss to my head. “Backyard? Or the tavern? Because you know the distillery is a shit show for the next month.”
“Backyard,” I said.
“Then I’ll see you in the backyard, Bam,” he said. “Next Saturday.”
“I can tell you with absolute certainty I am not freaking out,” I said. “I’m having a normal reaction to you being strange while I’m trying to fix my face. I don’t want look like I’m rocking an infant sleep schedule in my wedding photos, you know.”
“The only reason you have a photographer is because my person was free today,” Annette added.
“And I’m eternally grateful for you and your person,” I replied. “Even if I’m certain there would’ve been plenty of photos without your person.”
Annette stared at me for a moment. Then, “Why aren’t you freaking out?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Because I don’t need to?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Yeah. Go ahead. Be easy-going and breezy on your wedding day. As if that makes any damn sense.”
“I think you want me to freak out so you can feel better about freaking out when it’s your turn next month,” I replied. “We both know you’re going to lose all of your shit that day.”
Annette propped her hand on her hip, frowning. “Not all of it.”
“Most,” I said. “Let’s be real. You’re going to need Jackson to put it in the wrong hole just to take your mind off things.”
“I—I’m not talking about that,” Annette said.
“Then what do you want to talk about? My calm, cool demeanor?” I asked, running a brush through my hair with more force than necessary. “Because I’m not calm and I’m not cool. I’m worried about whether Elliott slept enough this afternoon and whether he’ll scream for six hours tonight like he did last night. I mean, aside from that, I worry about this kid every single day. For a million different reasons. Most of which are ridiculous things not worth worrying over but a lot of them involve not subjecting my kid to the kind of upbringing to which my parents subjected me. I can’t decide whether this”—I skimmed my hands over the knee-length blue dress—”looks good but it seems too late to change. The only laundry I’ve done all week is the baby’s and I don’t have clean underwear so I’m not wearing any. I’m not sure but I’m guessing Jed is in a similar position. I can’t remember whether I pushed through some sell orders yesterday and I don’t know if we have enough plates for tonight. But walking out there and saying “I do” isn’t a problem for me. The rings, the promises, the legal transaction? Those are the easy parts. Living them is harder but for right now, today, I’m too busy being happy to freak out.”
Once again, Annette laughed.
I wagged my brush at her, ready to tell her what I thought about all these chuckles when I heard a watery gurgle-burp behind me. Annette smiled over my shoulder as I whirled around to find Jed standing in the doorway, Elliott nestled in the crook of his arm. He had the baby dressed in the infant approximation of shorts and a button-up shirt with a plaid bowtie. It was obscenely cute.
“I don’t want to hear about it if you’re not wearing underwear,” Annette said to Jed. “Just keep that information to yourself.”
He blinked at her as he bounce-rocked the baby. Goddamn, that move was hot. “All right,” he said. He glanced at me, his gaze traveling over the lines of my body and the dress covering it. “Don’t change.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s too late—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You’re beautiful. Don’t change.” He shifted Elliott to his other arm. “Not right now, not ever. There’s no reason for it.”
I gripped the hairbrush tighter.
“I have to check on the cake,” Annette whispered, sailing past me, past Jed. “I want to make sure it—I don’t know—hasn’t disappeared. Or something.”
He crossed the room, stopping only when he was directly in front of me. Elliott cooed and rubbed a warm, slightly sticky hand on my cheek. So much for fixing my face.
“Did you hear all of that?” I asked.
“Was I not supposed to?” Jed asked.
I shrugged. “Nothing I wouldn’t say to your face.”
Jed brought his free hand to the back of my neck, pulling me forward and dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I wasn’t sure if you were testing out your vows on Annette.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I wouldn’t do that because Annette would insist on making them poetic. She’d insert crying pauses.”
“Like I said,” he started, “don’t change. Not today, not ever.” He shifted his hand to cup my jaw, tipping my face up. “Were you serious about not having any underwear?”
“Mmhmm.” I eyed him as my lips twisted into a grin. “It’s probably time for us to get some help around here. Every day can’t be this fun.”
“Here I was, thinking marriage was all good times and bare asses.” He matched my smile as he leaned in, brushed his lips over mine. Elliott squealed and tangled his fingers in my hair.
“Don’t forget the hair pulling,” I said, laughing despite the pain. For a baby, his grip was steel and the more I yelped in discomfort, the tighter he held and louder he joyfully babbled.
Once I was free and Elliott was more amused than ever, Jed asked, “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Are you?” I replied.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, I am.”
“Me too.”
Elliott replied with a long string of baby gibberish.
“It’s more than saying “I do” and being happy on one day,” I said. “It’s about—it’s about working at it when it’s difficult.”
“I know,” he replied.
“And it’s about not resenting each other and not putting a child in the middle of your issues,” I continued.
“I know.”
“And it’s—it’s all the things that are complicated,” I said. “It’s compromising and getting through it and finding time and—”
“And we will,” he said. “We’ll compromise. We’ll get through. We’ll find time. We won’t resent each other and this is the only way Elliott will ever be between us. I know it. I know you wouldn’t let any of it happen and I know I don’t want that to happen to us.”
“Come on. Let’s do this.” I wrapped my arms around them. “Before Jackson and Annette defile the baby’s room.”
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