Chapter 29
Charlotte stood in front of the full-length mirror in Grams’s guest room, smoothing her hands over her pale blue dress. The fabric stretched over her very pregnant belly, a belly that seemed to grow more absurdly large by the day.
She held a small bouquet of wildflowers in one hand, plucked fresh from the fields that morning, their bright colors popping against the soft hue of her dress. She turned to Gemma, her sister-in-law, who was wrangling her squirmy six-month-old son on the bed.
“I look like an orca,” Charlotte declared, half-joking but mostly serious.
Gemma laughed, bouncing her son on her knee. “Oh, please. Orcas are black and white.”
Charlotte snorted, adjusting the neckline of her dress. “Do orcas beach themselves on the coast of Maine?”
“Stop,” Gemma said with mock sternness. “You’re stunning. And trust me, I’ve done the pregnant waddle thing. You’re rocking it better than I ever did.”
Charlotte arched a brow. “You just had a baby six months ago. How do you already look like a supermodel?”
“Two pairs of Spanx,” said Gemma. “Gotta add another pair of those suckers for every kid you pop out.” She pursed her lips and sucked in air. “But I shouldn’t ruin the surprise.”
As Charlotte knelt to fasten the dainty silver sandals she was wearing, her nephew let out a delighted squeal. She glanced up to see Gemma bouncing him, her sister-in-law's face lit up with laughter.
“You make it look so easy,” Charlotte murmured.
“It’s not,” Gemma admitted, shifting her son to her hip. “But you find your groove. And Cowboy is going to be such a great dad. You two will figure it out, just like Logan and I did.”
Charlotte’s heart squeezed at the thought of Cowboy, the way he’d been doting on her during her pregnancy, buying her ice cream every single day without judgement. He’d even painted the nursery three times after she’d changed her mind about the color—twice.
“All right, whale-woman,” Gemma teased, breaking Charlotte’s thoughts. “Time to get you down the aisle before that baby makes an appearance.”
Charlotte made a low moan she imagined a whale might make. Her nephew’s eyes went comically wide and he visibly startled. The women laughed. Charlotte adjusted the wildflowers in her hand, letting her free hand rest on her belly. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
The outdoor backdrop was breathtaking. The stunning colors of a Maine autumn were on full display, the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the trees reflecting against the bright blue sky.
A gentle brook babbled in the background, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the crisp fall breeze.
Charlotte and Gemma made their way toward the ceremony site, the gravel path crunching under their shoes.
Charlotte caught sight of Cowboy near the arch, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored navy suit.
A whale blue, she decided. His dirty blond hair was brushed back, and his face lit up with that signature smile as his eyes locked on her.
Her heart swelled, a wave of happiness washing over her. This man. This life. For all her fears about losing herself to love, she’d found a man who made her feel more like herself than ever.
As they reached the rows of guests, Charlotte’s gaze briefly met her mother’s. Her mom gave her a soft smile, her expression somewhere between approval and bemusement. Oh, she definitely thinks I look like an orca, Charlotte thought, as she considered making her whale noise and stifled a grin.
Charlotte and Gemma stepped off to the side, taking their places as attendants. The guests murmured quietly, their anticipation building.
Next came Gemma’s daughter, toddling down the aisle as the flower girl. She threw fistfuls of petals enthusiastically, even tossing a handful at Logan, who sat grinning in the second row with their baby. Charlotte chuckled softly, exchanging a look with Gemma.
Finally, the music shifted, and all eyes turned to Grams. She glided down the aisle on Tom’s arm, looking elegant in a cream-colored gown with a lace overlay.
Tom was beaming, his love for her evident in every step.
Charlotte was so happy for them, she nearly cried.
The love they shared was simple and steadfast, the kind of love Charlotte now understood all too well.
As they reached the arch, the officiant welcomed everyone, and the ceremony began.
Charlotte couldn’t stop smiling as Grams and Tom exchanged vows, their voices strong and clear over the songs of blue jays and robins.
When they kissed, the crowd erupted into applause, and the newlyweds walked back down the aisle hand in hand, before being followed from the ceremony by a large beached whale.
The reception was set up under a big white tent, strung with twinkling fairy lights.
Tables were adorned with pumpkins, gourds, and wildflower centerpieces, and the aroma of cinnamon and spiced cider filled the air.
Cowboy and Charlotte moved together on the dance floor, swaying to a soft country tune as the guests mingled.
“Did I look beautiful out there?” she asked, her wide grin a clear signal that she was playing.
Cowboy twirled her gently, returning her smile. “So gorgeous. I just kept thinking oooOOOOoooeeeEEEaaawww,” he said in his best whale voice.
Charlotte laughed so hard she snorted several times.
When she finally calmed down, he pulled her closer, his voice softening. “You look beautiful, baby. I mean it.”
She smiled up at him, warmth spreading through her chest. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
The song ended, and Cowboy left to grab them drinks. Charlotte turned to find her mother standing nearby, holding a glass of champagne.
“You look radiant,” her mom said, her voice gentle. “Truly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stunning.”
Charlotte shifted, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks, Mom. I feel like Jupiter.”
Her mom smiled, a touch of awkwardness in the gesture. “I know I’ve been… hard on you, Charlotte. But seeing you here, seeing you happy—it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Charlotte’s throat tightened. She’d spent years chasing her mother’s approval, only to stop caring when she thought she’d never get it. Hearing it now was… complicated.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.
As her mom walked away, Cowboy returned, handing Charlotte a glass of water. “What was that about?”
Charlotte took a sip, then leaned against him. “I think she’s drunk.”
One side of his mouth hitched up in a grin. “I think she loves you. She’s just not real good at it. Now Jack,” he said, addressing her stomach, “Jack thinks she’s drunk.”
As the music swelled and laughter filled the tent, Charlotte let herself lean into the moment—into Cowboy, into the life they were building, into the messy, beautiful world of families and love.
She swayed, looking around at her relatives and strangers, at the tiered cake and the lightup dance floor.
“You think we’ll ever do this?” she asked.
“This?” He asked, looking around as she had. “Nah. I don’t think so.”
She hadn’t brought it up since the last time they’d been in Maine, and neither had he. She gave him a little side-eye, wondering if he was serious. “Leo Wilson, are you being for real right now?”
He shrugged, no trace of gile on his suntanned face. “Yeah. If you want to get married, I would absolutely say yes. But if it were up to me? I don’t really see the point.”
Backing up, she stared at him. “For real. You’re being honest with me? You don’t want to get married?”
Reaching for her chin, he lightly tipped her face up to his. “For real? It wouldn’t make my life any better than it is right now.” He bent his head and kissed her.
Abruptly, she pulled back an inch and hissed through clenched teeth, “Shhhhhhit.”
“What?”
“My water just broke.”
His eyes went wide. “Oh my god.”
“I know, right?”
“There’s a whale joke in there somewhere.”
She smacked his arm. “Oh my god. We’re having a baby, like now. Right now.”
“On the dance floor?”
“Shut up, Cowboy.” She looked at the puddle around her feet with a horrified gasp. “Should we clean that up?”
“I feel like no, but maybe. I don’t know. Should we ask your mom?”
She laughed hard, a snort coming out. “Oh no, no laughing. Laughing’s bad.” She turned and shuffled off the dance floor.
Leo pointed to the puddle, alerting the other dancers. “Look out, there’s uh… stuff… liquid…”
Gemma appeared out of nowhere. “I’ll take care of it. Go.” She waved him off. “Go!”
Charlotte waddled to the car, shaking off Cowboy’s steadying hand. “I feel like I wet my pants at a party.”
“You kinda did. But guess what?”
“What?”
“Before we go to sleep today, we’ll get to hold our baby.”
She tucked her chin and eyed him skeptically. “After I squeeze him out of my hoo-ha. I’m a little worried about that part.”
When he spoke, his voice was oddly hoarse. “And then we’ll be a family.”
Her eyes lit up. “We should get our names detailed on your truck. Just you and me, though. If we put Jack on there it will look like we’re a throuple.”
“We definitely don’t want that.”
“No. But I want my name in hot pink glitter paint. Can they do that?”
“I don’t see why not.” He took her hand to help her down the stairs to the parking lot, and she let him since she couldn’t see her feet.
She sighed contentedly. “I need to sparkle.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “You already do, Charlotte. You already do.”