Epilogue
Christmas: Three years later
As it turns out, “best laid plans” and all that was truer than any other statement ever made. We schedule and outline and like to think we’re in full control, then life. . .or God. . .or whatever higher power you believe in, laughs at us.
I’d proposed to Liz on Christmas. Yes, I’d hoped to marry her before summer; no, I never thought she’d make me wait for three years; and no, I never thought we’d have our first child before we were married. But “ the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry ”—paraphrased, of course, from Robert Burns—has become a motto of sorts for me these past three years.
Now, here I was in the bedroom—our bedroom of our home—which was once her uncle’s home, buttoning my tuxedo and straightening my cufflinks.
“Cold feet?” Richard was grinning like a madman over my shoulder. Why was this so funny to him?
“Of course not. We’ve been all but married for three years. We have a son together. Why would this make me nervous?” Almost two years ago with the birth of our son, Liz had almost died from pre-eclampsia. If anything, that had solidified my resolve to put that second ring on her finger—the one that had us officially spending our lives together. “Just because you’re commitment-phobic doesn’t mean we all are.”
He scowled. “Hey, I’ve been seeing Mia for a year.”
“And you’ve made a point of saying it’s ‘easy, breezy, and casual’ for just as long. After a while, she’s going to get tired of that bullshit and expect you to put a ring on it.” I also had it on good authority that the café’s newest manager wasn’t too far off from that option.
My cousin narrowed his eyes. “What do you know?”
“Nothing I can tell you.” I gave one last tug to my coat. “How much longer?”
“Five minutes. We should be heading down. Gi said Lizzy wouldn’t leave the room until she had confirmation you were in the courtyard.”
Yes, it was December in New York City, but Liz got the harebrained scheme to have the wedding in the courtyard of the café of the original bakery. A special-made tent had been rigged up, and heaters would keep the inside from becoming chilled. In the meantime, the large space had a running fountain in the middle and trees strung in fairy lights surrounding the perimeter. It was Liz and Mary’s project to make it a winter wonderland. I still hadn’t seen it.
“Then let’s go.” I didn’t need to be dragged. This wasn’t my demise, but what I wanted more than anything in this world—or the next.
When I reached the foyer, Mrs. Reynolds wore a wide grin while she held my son Luca, who was almost two. We’d found out the Easter after we were engaged that Liz was pregnant. She’d never missed a pill, but a course of antibiotics she’d taken during a particularly bad bout of walking pneumonia had been responsible for our little surprise. Neither of us was upset; we’d just decided to roll with the punches—until Liz’s blood pressure began to creep upwards.
The day she’d had a seizure and was rushed to the hospital was the most terrifying of my life. While I joked that I wanted six kids that day as I hopefully held her engagement ring in my hand, I was just fine with one. As long as I had Liz, I could breathe. The entire time I didn’t know what was happening to her or our baby was suffocating. I couldn’t go through that again.
Luca held out his chubby little arms. “Daddy!” He was adorable in his tiny suit. Liz had found the blue velvet jacket and insisted upon it, even though my tux as well as Richard’s were of the garden variety. Neither of us would be caught dead in a blue velvet suitcoat, but it worked for Luca, whose hair was dark and curly—a natural by-product of my and Liz’s hair.
“Are you ready to go see Mommy?”
He nodded with a smile. Like me, he wasn’t overly talkative, but he was happy, which was all I needed.
When we entered the elevator, Luca leaned forward. “Button!” I stepped up and pointed where he needed to press then backed against the wall.
“Actually,” said Richard, breaking the silence, “I’ve thought that what you have isn’t so bad. It may be worth giving it a try.”
My gaze shot to him. “Who are you and what’ve you done with my cousin?”
Richard rolled his eyes. “I’m thirty-nine, Darce. I don’t want to spend my entire life alone. It sounded great in theory when I was twenty-two and enjoyed hooking up. Now. . .” He sighed. “It’s lost a lot of its appeal.”
I managed not to laugh. He wouldn’t appreciate “I told you so.”
“Oh, don’t look so smug. Yes, you told me. If you’re going to gloat, go ahead and do it so I don’t have to hear it later.”
I turned back to my son and straightened his little tie. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
As soon as we were off the elevator, Luca began to squirm to get down. He knew the way as well as I did, so I had no worries about allowing him to run ahead.
His tiny legs carried him through the stockrooms and storage until we reached the doors that led to the café. When I opened the door, he rushed through.
“Gi!”
My sister knelt and scooped him up, giving him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. “You look so handsome. Are you excited about today?”
Luca nodded, even though at his age, it was unlikely he understood how today was different than any other.
“You should go take your places,” said Gi. “I’ll text Liz and tell her you’re ready.”
After kissing my son’s soft curls, I exited through to the courtyard and gawked. “Wow.” The tables were covered with silvery-white tablecloths, and the center of each had a wine bottle filled with fairy lights surrounded by what appeared to be a Christmas wreath. A silvery-blue ribbon wrapped around the bottom of the bottles.
The trees around the perimeter were bedecked in white lights that twinkled in the low light of the covered courtyard. When I rounded the corner, rows of chairs had been set up on one side of the fountain, facing a small dais flanked by two Christmas trees laden with twinkling lights and silver and blue ornaments. A string quartet was set up in the corner, composed of Gigi’s friends and fellow students from Julliard. Lights trimmed the ceiling of the tent, and smaller, matching Christmas trees and silver and blue accents filled the space. Heaters were scattered around so as not to be intrusive. We hadn’t wanted a huge wedding, but I hadn’t been sure about the courtyard. In the end, I’d bowed to Liz’s wishes, however, and the result was amazing.
I followed the aisle down the center and around the fountain. The guests who were seated watched while Richard followed me to the altar where an officiant stood, a welcoming smile upon her face.
When we took our places, both of us pivoted so we faced the back of the aisle. The music the string quartet was playing came to an end and another piece began. It wasn’t a traditional wedding march, but the melody was familiar.
Wait!
“Is that the music from The Princess Bride ?” asked Richard.
I grinned. “That’s exactly what it is.” As much as it now killed me to admit it, Liz had been right. That movie had become a favorite.
After no more than a moment, Liz made her way down the other side of the courtyard to the beginning of the aisle. Gigi released Luca at the end of the aisle, and in a fit of giggles, he ran down the center where I lifted him up and settled him on my hip. My sister followed at a more sedate pace.
Mary came out next. All the bridesmaids were wearing a matching blue, and although their dresses were designed and made by Mary, she’d varied each so they flattered the figures of the woman wearing them. Char was the last, and she hugged me when she got to the altar.
“I’m so happy for you two,” she whispered in my ear.
I stared at the fountain just as Liz rounded it and stood at the end where I could finally get a good look at her in her gown. She was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen. The dress was white and off the shoulder and wrapped around her with what appeared to be buttons down the side. A bow on that side also highlighted a split in the satin of the skirt where organza trailed down to the floor. Mary had outdone herself on the design!
Meanwhile, Liz’s hair was pulled up, but tendrils escaped and curled around her face and on her neck, her veil sitting to the back and hanging to the floor as well.
I had no doubt I was grinning like a fool, but I didn’t care. We’d been waiting for this day for too long, and whatever anyone thought wasn’t important to me. Only that woman now walking down the aisle mattered.
When she reached me, I handed Luca to Richard and took my bride’s hands in mine. “You are. . .I have no words.”
She grinned. “I do.” She leaned forward and pressed her cheek to mine. “I’m pregnant.”
Was it bad form for the groom to faint on his wedding day?
Eight Months later
Liz winced as the doctors worked. She’d had a c-section for the first pregnancy, and her doctor wasn’t willing to chance a traditional delivery, so here we were with Liz draped up and waiting to meet our second child.
“You’re going to feel pressure, Lizzy,” said the doctor.
“No shit,” my wife said under her breath. “Why did I think this would be a good idea?” She flinched.
“Because when they put Luca in your arms, you forgot all about this part.” I hoped that was why anyway.
“You’re right.” She breathed deeply in and out. “Will?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m never doing this again.”
I nodded. “That’s your call. I’ve told you that from the beginning.” We’d have two healthy children—or so I hoped! Instead of Liz’s blood pressure being sky-high, this time it’d been mine. I’d been terrified I’d lose her from the moment she’d told me at the altar. I couldn’t wait for the baby to be here so I’d know, once and for all, that Liz was safe!
A squalling filled the operating room, and when I looked, the doctor was pulling the baby free from Liz’s body. “Congratulations! It’s a girl!”
Liz’s lower lip shook. “We have a Betta.”
Elizabeth Anne Darcy, to honor her mother and grandmother, would also honor Liz’s Zio. She’d honored him with Luca’s name too—not that I’d argue. He’d been her rock until I could fill those shoes.
Betta was evaluated, swaddled, and handed to me. I immediately held her so Liz could wrap an arm around her. “She’s beautiful, just like you.”
“You’re blind.”
I shook my head. “Even now, you’re the only woman I’ll ever want. Whether you’re heavily pregnant or whether you’re saggy with a postpartum belly, I don’t care. You’ll still rock my world.”
A sniff came from one of the nurses. “That has to be the sweetest thing any husband has ever said. If you don’t kiss him, Mrs. Darcy, I might.” The entire operating room burst into laughter.
“No, you don’t get to kiss him,” said Liz, her eyes now twinkling. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”
When she pulled me down to press her lips to mine, it may as well have been the first time we kissed. My heart pounded under my ribs and my skin goosebumped. This woman was it—my everything—and now with our children, we were a family. That holiday season I’d met Liz had been something out of a novel. I suppose you could say it was a novel holiday. After all, it’s not every day you fall in love with your competitor. I couldn’t say it was a mistake. On the contrary, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
The End