Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“ T his is quite the whirlwind, isn’t it?” Tricia smiled across at Steph who was having the finishing touches to her hair completed.
“That’s Jon, though,” interjected Lindsay, already becoming over excited and the wedding was still an hour away. “He adores Steph and there was no way he wouldn’t want to marry her pregnant.”
Jess laughed at Steph’s expression as much as anything.
“Thanks! Good to know that the general consensus is that the reason I am getting married is because I am knocked up.”
Roger appeared at that very second and seemed to shut the door in a hurry. “Stephie, don’t say that, people will hear.”
“I was just pointing out that Jon asked me to marry him before he knew I was knocked up.”
Roger shuddered as his older daughters each kissed his cheek and pulled him to sit with them.
“I know that,” Lindsay said, unwilling to let the subject drop. “But what I meant was that he was going to marry you quickly, before the baby is born.”
Steph nodded, knowing what her friend meant and agreeing with it completely.
“It’s still really quick though . . . what is it? A month after finding out about the baby and we are all assembled. Not that I am complaining because this place is beautiful and the private beach is to die for,” Tricia said.
“This is the villa Steph stopped Jon buying,” revealed Lindsay to the other women.
“Why would you do that? It’s gorgeous and in case you missed me saying it, it has a private beach.” Tricia shook her head.
“And to think, I knew you when you were simply the bit on the side,” joked Jess, making all of the women laugh, nobody more than Steph.
The only one not laughing was Roger. “You should never have been in that position,” he muttered with an expression of sadness and possibly guilt.
Steph refused to be drawn on the subject of her father’s guilt, instead focusing on the fact that this was her wedding day and she really couldn’t wait to be Mrs Brooker. The hairdresser was getting a mirror to show Steph her completed look. “Right, somebody open the champagne and let’s toast this bride.” She grinned and then grinned a little more as she saw Lindsay’s horrified expression. She pulled her friend in for a hug. “As we are alcohol free, how about we get some orange juice too, but I am giving you all notice that once this baby has hatched, I am going to need a do over on my hen night if not the wedding.”
“You ready then, pumpkin?” Roger was standing in front of Steph, looking at the beautiful young woman she had become and was struggling to keep his emotions in check.
“As I’ll ever be.” She grinned, literally glowing.
“He’s the one, Jon?”
“The only one, Daddy.” Her eyes sparkled and her grin lit up the room.
“I wish your mother was here to see you like this, so elegant and a picture of happiness and beauty.” Her father choked on his words as tears clouded his eyes, much as they did Steph’s.
“I know.” She reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Me too. I’m sorry she isn’t . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“That’s enough,” Roger told her brushing a thumb across her cheek to catch the falling tear. “She’d want you to have these.” Reaching into his pocket, her father pulled out a velvet drawstring pouch. “Your sisters both received something on their wedding day too.”
Steph carefully opened the pouch and tipping the contents into her hand fought the onslaught of fresh tears. Gazing down she stared at a pair of pearl stud earrings. “Mum’s earrings, her good ones.” She laughed on a broken sob remembering her mother referring to them as such.
“They were. If she were here–” Roger’s voice caught in his throat and his eyes shut firmly to prevent the tears escaping.
Stepping closer, Steph pulled him into a tight embrace, unsure who needed this most and whose tears would be the first to fall.
“She left things for you all, for significant occasions, like weddings.”
Steph nodded.
“And this.” Roger reached into his pocket while Steph stepped away slightly, seeing the white envelope her father held and sobbed as she recognised her name written in her mother’s handwriting.
“Dad,” she said but had no other words to offer.
“I know. She told me that none of our girls were allowed to walk down the aisle with a tear streaked face, but this is yours.”
Steph couldn’t risk any attempt at speech for a few seconds. “Can I read it later maybe?”
“Whenever you want, pumpkin. Shall we go and find your groom?”
“Yes, please.”
Making their way through the villa, Steph and Roger paused in the hallway before a full length mirror.
“You really are a picture, Stephie.”
Steph smiled at the image of the two of them, her father in a traditional, dark suit complete with fastened shirt and tie. The outfit he’d insisted on wearing to give his youngest daughter away despite the high temperatures. Standing next to him she was positively glowing; her hair was twisted into a chignon that had flowers inserted around it, her make-up was minimal and natural. Her dress was a full length, halter neck, white gown. The shimmery lace bodice that had a solid section from the chest down fitted to the waist while the slightly fuller, light tulle skirt flowed to her feet that were encased in flat flip flops that were decorated with leather butterflies and pearls that matched her mother’s earrings that she wore.
Walking down the makeshift aisle that ran down the centre of the lawned area of the garden, Steph couldn’t fight the grin as she saw the congregation of immediate family and friends.
Everything was perfect. From the weather that saw the temperature having dropped a few degrees as it was moving into late afternoon, to the sound and smell of the sea that offered the perfect backdrop to this day as did the floral arrangements, the scent of irises, jasmine, roses and gerberas filled her senses whilst adorning her path to her groom.
Her sisters, Lindsay and the nieces and nephews who were acting as attendants were all on their best behaviour. The women and girls were all dressed in dusky blue, full length dresses with spaghetti straps while her nephews wore ecru linen shorts and short sleeved shirts in a linen of the same colour as the dresses. They all led the way to the alter where Jon stood with Charlie, his best man. From the second he came into sight, Steph knew that no matter what obstacles they might face, each and every one would be overcome together because this, them and the family she hadn’t quite got her head around was meant to be.
Coming to stand alongside him, Steph was helpless to fight the grin this man elicited from her with such ease and as her father attempted to hand her to him, his grin was more than a match for hers. Jon stood in a light blue, linen suit made up of full length trousers and a waistcoat that covered a long sleeved white shirt that was open at the neck. Behind him, Charlie stood in an identical outfit, smirking before giving his friend a nudge that he should take his bride’s hand from Roger who still held it.
“Mr Brooker.” She giggled.
“Miss Pryor.” He arched a brow.
The ceremony officiant gave a small cough and as they both turned to her, she smiled before welcoming those present.
“You look beautiful,” Jon whispered, leaning in towards Steph. “Really beautiful, like breathtaking.”
A small blush crept up Steph’s face at the sincerity in his voice and gazing up at him, his eyes carried love, desire and total belief in his words.
The use of their full names drew their attention back to the officiant and caused them to give their wedding service their full attention.
With their vows exchanged, Jon was invited to kiss his bride, which he did to the cheers, claps and cries of their guests before arm in arm, they made their way back down the aisle as husband and wife.
Entering the marquee that was situated on the huge lawned area, Steph was struck by the sheer size of it, but the beauty of it was what really took her breath away. Her and Jon had agreed on the arrangements for the wedding, although due to the timescale involved, they had employed a wedding planner so as much as they had envisioned it, the reality was so much more.
There was a dancefloor and an elevated area where a band played something soft and gentle, welcoming.
A series of identical round tables covered in white tablecloths faced a rectangular table where the main bridal party would sit. The metal backed chairs had thick upholstered seat pads while the expanse of white was broken up by balloons and smaller floral decorations similar to the ones from the wedding service.
They drank and ate before taking to the makeshift dancefloor for their first dance to the tune of I’ll Stand By You by The Pretenders. Neither of them had felt they had a specific song that was theirs until a couple of days before when they had been out to dinner and had stopped at a bar and this song had come on. They’d each looked at each other as the lyrics resonated and without another word, they knew that no matter what happened, they would always stand at the other’s side.
Once the dance was finished and others had joined them on the dancefloor, they managed to sneak off as far as the bedroom in the villa where Jon’s proposal and Steph’s baby announcement had taken place.
“Mrs Brooker,” he whispered as he closed the space between them and pressed Steph against the back of the door.
Steph grinned, loving his use of her married name. “Mr Brooker,” she replied, her grin growing despite the fact that his name was the same as it had ever been, but now it was something they shared. Something he had given to her, or maybe something she had taken, and in a matter of months, their baby would share it too.
Jon smiled, his eyes awash with love and adoration as he lowered his lips to hers before a loud bang rattled through the door that was next to them.
“Sorry to interrupt,” came Charlie’s voice, “But informal photos on the beach are going ahead in ten minutes.”
“Plenty of time,” replied Jon as Steph smacked his arm.
“My first sex as a married woman had better last longer than ten minutes.”
Charlie chuckled. “Then you two probably need to hold fire because Roger is circling and threatening to come and gather you up.”
“Fine!” Jon called with a frown and a huff. “We’ll be down in five.”
“I’ll let them know.” Charlie’s steps got farther away leaving Steph and Jon alone once more.
“I have something that belongs to you,” Jon told her seriously.
“You need to work on your lines, husband, and ten minutes is still not enough.”
He shook his head with a single laugh. “Okay, I have something else that belongs to you and I am unsure if this is the right time to give it to you or not.”
Pulling her to the bed and then tugging her down to sit next to him, Jon’s hand disappeared into his inside pocket and pulled out the letter from her mother.
“Roger asked me to take care of this and give it to you later. I am unsure how later is later, but there’s no rush.” He pulled her close and landed a single kiss to her forehead.
“You know what this is?” Even if he hadn’t known what it was, the quiver in her voice clearly conveyed the raw emotion it evoked in her.
“Your dad said it was from your mum, but that’s it.”
“He gave me the earrings and then the letter, but apparently she warned him that none of us girls could walk down the aisle with a tear streaked face so I was saving it for later.”
“Do you want me to leave you to read it, or to save it, or just hold onto it?”
She shook her head and with shaking hands took the envelope from him and opened it.
Looking down at the letter caused a ball of emotion to knot in her stomach and a burning sensation in her jaw as she fought to hold back the tears she wasn’t sure wouldn’t win that battle.
“This is strange. I had no idea she had done this or if there are any more, but I think she intended it to be that way because neither of my sisters have mentioned a wedding day letter, but they had them too.”
Steph was unsure who she was addressing really, if anyone, or perhaps she was delaying unfolding the sheet of paper. The fact that her hands were moving and her mother’s words were coming into view suggested perhaps not. “Would you read it, please?”
Taking the letter, Jon began to read the words and thought it wasn’t dissimilar to Steph’s own handwriting.
My darling Stephie, Stephanie,
I am unsure what name you go by now, but no matter the name, you are and will always be my baby.
You were the greatest shock and the most precious gift I have ever received and for that I will forever be grateful, in this life and the next.
From the second I knew of your existence, I understood my reason on earth, to be your mum. You were always destined for great things and I have no need to say I hope you have achieved them, because I know you will.
Today is your wedding day and I am truly sorry not to be there as the mother of the bride, but your father, I am sure will have shared my wedding day gift with you.
Tell the ridiculously handsome and clever man who has the honour of calling you his wife that he really doesn’t deserve you,
Jon looked across at his smiling wife, her happy expression contradicting the tears rolling down her cheeks. “She has me spot on there, ridiculously handsome and clever.”
Steph laughed as Jon continued.
. . . and I am allowed to say that because not only am I your mother, I am dead and you can’t argue with that. Maybe apologise for the dark humour, a terminal illness will do that to you.
Jon laughed.
Steph shook her head. “I can’t believe she wrote that.”
With a shrug, Jon continued again.
I dedicated my life to your father and all of you children, but until you, I hadn’t really known that there would be no more babies for me to nourish and nurture and as such, I relished every second we had together. We, you, me and Jason may not have had the years we might have wanted, and for much of the time we shared I was ill or too weak to do the things I had done with your siblings, but every second I spent with you was joyous and made my destiny easy to accept.
You struggled as you grew older, forced to live through things you never should have. To see things, and remain silent, and for all of that I am sorry, but never ever question the value of your life against mine, do you hear me? If the clock was turned back, I wouldn’t change a thing that would keep you from me, my sweet, darling girl, my final baby, my absolute angel and true perfection, and your new husband knows that this world would be so much less without you in it, you and the children you and he will share.
Gentle sobs left Steph and caused her to rock slightly as she rubbed a hand across her belly.
You may not see me, sweetheart, but I am there, everywhere, in your every smile and tear you shed, for the good times and the bad, perhaps a little more in the bad times, watching over you and keeping you safe, as I will your family, your own guardian angel.
Be kind to yourself, beautiful girl, and love your father and brothers and sisters as they love you. Never allow anyone, no matter who they are to disrespect or treat you anyway you do not deserve. Always remember your worth and make sure Mr Stephanie does too, or I will haunt him – more dark humour.
Until I get to hold you in my arms again, always remember, I have, do and always will love you unconditionally and with all of my heart.
Mum x
Steph laughed, her tears having seemingly been stopped by the end of the letter. “We might need new name plates for our office doors. Mr Stephanie. It has quite the ring, doesn’t it?”
Jon turned, taking Steph’s face between his hands, steadying it so their eyes were fixed on each other’s. “Unfortunately, darling, you are already Mrs Brooker and your new name plate should be in place already.”
She offered him a small smile, unsure if he was serious about the name plate, but thought he probably was.
“Oh, and your mum will have no need to ever haunt me for not respecting you or treating you exactly as you deserve, however, should she stop on by, I might need some serious words about that whole Mr Stephanie, but not before I thank her for allowing me the opportunity to love you and call you my wife and the mother to our baby.”
With no further words exchanged, Jon enveloped Steph in his arms, the warmth and love of his embrace offering an immediate sense of safety and wellbeing.
“Is it a no to Mr Stephanie then?” She laughed.
“On my office door, too fucking right it is, but there’s nobody else’s Mr I ever want to be.”
A loud bang bounced off the door again.
“For fuck’s sake, Charlie,” Steph muttered, clutching her hammering heart.
“I don’t want to know what you’re doing to my sister in there . . .” The sound of Jason retching made Jon mutter expletives and Steph laugh. “. . . but Dad is the next person coming up here, so shift your arse. Fuck no, not like that. Shit, just get downstairs for photos.”
Once changed into their casual beach wear of light coloured shorts and shirt for Jon and a bikini and crochet style dress for Steph, Jon prepared to lead her back to their wedding guests.
“Right then, Mrs Brooker, let’s have some very casual wedding photos, some beach time, and then I intend to spend the night making love to my wife.”
“Making love?” Steph wondered just how long it would be before things became more heated and turned a little frantic as they inevitably did with her and Jon.
“Yes, making love, and then tomorrow I will fuck you on every inch and surface of this place, better? He asked clearly having picked up on the inference of her question.
Giggling, she stretched up and landed a kiss to his cheek as she took his hand. “I look forward to it, all of it.”
“And then we have our honeymoon to look forward to.”
Steph had no clue where they were going or precisely when, as the honeymoon was something Jon had taken sole responsibility for and had kept the details very much to himself, but as with everything else, she trusted him.