Epilogue
Ainsley
“ You lot are worse than the bride,” Fran cries, hands on her hips in frustration after finding us still in the penthouse suite. “Get down there!”
Avery jumps into action, taking his own blushing bride in his arms and walking her backwards from the room. “We’re getting him ready, love. We’ll only be a few more minutes.”
Fran is still muttering frustrations as the elevator door closes behind her.
“Seriously, though. Let’s get a move on or your wedding night is going to be hell for me,” he jokes as he takes a step closer, straightening my tie for the millionth time.
“They’ll wait,” Dom cuts in, finishing off his whiskey and pouring another.
I turn down his offer of another drink. I need to keep my wits about me today.
My father is sitting beside me at the dining table, finalizing the documents we’ll be signing at the ceremony today.
The shared property agreements. The trust set up to keep my new family safe for the rest of their lives.
When I came to him early this year, searching for a way to marry my two best friends, he didn’t respond with the skepticism I expected. Instead, he put his whole team on the project, and this is what they came up with. A plan that gives my lovers even more protection and rights than traditional marriage and allows us all even footing.
“I’ve got to head down and get set up, but I’ll see you all down there in a few, right?” Sam asks, pushing to his feet and slipping on his cornflower blue suit jacket.
“We’re right behind you,” I answer.
My dad taps the papers on end to even up the stack and slips the cap on the shiny black and gold pen he bought for this occasion. “Your mom would be so proud of you. She never stopped encouraging people to go after their dreams, no matter how unconventional.”
I laugh in surprise at the sentiment. “You think my wedding is unconventional, Dad?”
He shakes his head. “I think you young people find very creative ways to be yourselves, and I try my best to keep up.”
“Us young people are older than your child bride, grandpa. Don’t patronize us,” Taylor says, waltzing into the room in the pale orange three-piece suit neither Gemma nor I could talk him out of.
My father smirks affectionately over at him as Avery lets out a long, low whistle. “Another dashing groom.”
Dom grunts, passing Taylor a whiskey, which he accepts. “Aren’t there rules about seeing each other before the ceremony?”
“That’s just for the bride,” I reply with a smile.
“Oh, now we’re following traditions, huh?”
“Enough,” my father cuts in. “We don’t want to keep your lovely bride waiting. You guys head down, Ains and I will follow you in a minute.”
When we’re alone, I turn to him, arms folded in mock impatience. “It’s too late for a lecture, Dad. I’m not changing my mind.”
He shakes his head, reaching into a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting by the table leg, and bringing out a children’s book.
Feeling the weight of the moment before he even speaks, I take a seat next to him, craning my neck to see the colorful drawing on the cover. A style as familiar to me as breathing, even though it’s been years since I laid eyes on it.
“I’ve had this with me every time I’ve visited for the last year, but it just never seemed like the right moment to give it to you.”
He slides the book over and I exhale long and slow as the full image comes into view.
It’s clearly my mom and me, as pandas, coming down the steps of our apartment holding hands. The book is called A Walk in the Park.
I place my hand flat on the cover, the cool, smoothness of the dust jacket doing nothing to stop the rising tide of emotions. I press down harder, wanting to see inside, but also wanting to protect myself.
“I should have given this to you years ago. I never should have taken the rest away in the first place. It just hurt too much. And then you seemed to forget…”
“I never forgot.”
“I’m sorry.”
And this time, I believe him.
Lifting the cover, I see a few lines in faded handwriting, like a time capsule .
For my darling son, Ainsley. You’ll always be my little bear.
I drop the cover closed. “Shit, Dad. Why are you doing this to me right now?” I cough out a laugh as I brush a tear from my cheek. “My make-up’s going to be ruined.”
“There’s never a good time to admit your mistakes. Which is why I’ve been putting it off so long, I guess.”
I start to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “You deserved to grow up with her words and her drawings around you. I just couldn’t open that box. I know there’s no way for me to make it up to you now, but here they are. For what it’s worth.”
“You have them all?”
“I only brought this one, but the others should be waiting at your house when you get home. I figured now was as good a time as any, you know, considering.”
I blow out my breath and flip a few pages in, to a beautiful, full color drawing of the two bears walking down the street where we used to live. It’s a place my mind locked away, but now comes rushing back to me. The sound of the birds, the fall breeze, the smell of the bakery on the corner. I close my eyes as tears swell, but it doesn’t prevent them from escaping.
I feel my dad pull me sideways into a hug and I let the cover of the book drop closed.
“If I could take it all back, Son. I would. I’d go back in time and make sure she was never erased from your life.”
“You couldn’t have kept her alive.”
“No, but I could have kept her memory around us. I could have done more to make sure you knew her. And knew how much she loved you.”
“Thanks for bringing her here today. ”
I mean it as forgiveness. As I pull away and see the tears in his eyes, I know he understands.
Taylor and I walk together down the aisle, hand in hand.
We join my father, his father, Dom, and Avery, who are all standing at the front. Sam is in the center, officiating.
The seats are filled with friends and family, all of whom flew out to Faraday for the weeklong wedding extravaganza.
Little June, tromps down the aisle, dragging Doc along behind her, throwing plumeria blossoms at the guests, at the birds and the dog, anywhere but on the sand at her feet. I stifle my laughter and hear Taylor doing the same beside me.
The crowd rises as Gemma turns the corner at the entrance to the aisle, flanked by Marisol on one side, Lana and Eva on the other.
Gem’s a vision in her short gown, the sleeveless bodice sparkling in the early evening sun. The girls beside her are different shades of tropical flowers, and they float down the aisle together, barefoot, grinning and misty eyed.
I lock eyes with Gemma and it’s all over for me. Taylor passes me the handkerchief I insisted earlier I wouldn’t need, but he pocketed for me anyway.
She walks straight into our arms.
“You look so beautiful, love,” Taylor whispers, holding her close and me close, our foreheads together as we breathe in unison.
Sam clears his throat gently and we all straighten, but don’t release hands. We turn to him as one unit, facing the man who’s agreed to bless our love with his own. To guide us into the next chapter of this crazy love story with his kind smile. “You all ready? ”
I nod and Gem leans her head on my shoulder. “Dream wedding,” she whispers to me, something that’s become a bit of an inside joke over the last few months.
We didn’t need all this to prove we were in it for life. All we needed was our home, our restaurant, our bustling days and quiet nights. But the family wanted to celebrate, and here we are.
Taylor and I both lean in close, pressing kisses to her cheeks.
When Taylor drops to his knees to press a kiss to the tiny swell of Gemma’s belly, I do the same, smiling through my joyous tears at the sound of the crowd losing their minds over our fairytale love story.