The Big Shebang #2
Lucky sits on both our feet.
My dad clears his throat and opens his little leather book to start officiating.
The words are traditional, the same words people have been saying to each other for centuries. I’ve heard them at other people’s weddings and let them wash over me without making impact.
It’s different this time, because I’m the one repeating them. And so is my bride.
“To have and to hold from this day forward,” my father says.
The sky behind the mountains has deepened from gold to rose to a soft purple, the kind of color Lila would surely have a name for. Amethyst, maybe. Something rare and shimmering and beautiful, like her.
“For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health.”
She squeezes my hand once. I squeeze back. The first stars wink out between the pastel clouds, sparkling above snow-dusted mountain peaks.
“To love and to cherish.”
As we speak our vows, I realize I didn’t account for this when we made this deal. That actually going through with a wedding, it would feel like the real thing.
“Until death do you part.”
Her eyes come to mine in shared acknowledgment—because there it is. The one line neither of us can fully claim.
But I don’t look away. Neither does she.
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” my father asks me.
“I do,” I say.
When it’s Lila’s turn, and my father asks if she takes me to be her lawfully wedded husband, she says “I do.” Keeping her eyes on mine the whole while.
My dad asks for the rings. Jonah steps forward proudly, pillow extended, mission accomplished. I take Lila’s wedding ring, a simple platinum band to match my own, and slide it onto her finger next to the diamond.
She takes my ring next and puts it on my finger, focused and careful. I never thought I’d see a wedding band there, but I’m surprised by how much I like the look of it there, the weight of that platinum on my skin.
And I especially like the look of my bride putting it there.
“By the power vested in me, I now declare you man and wife.”
My dad pauses. Looks at me over his reading glasses with those warm eyes of his. I know what’s coming next. I’ve been anticipating this exact moment since we decided to do this.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I look at Lila and raise my eyebrows slightly, a silent question: Is this okay?
Her chin tips up. The smallest nod. Yes.
I put my hand on her face. Her cheek is warm and silky, flushed pink. I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can admit.
I tip her chin up. And I kiss her.
She’s so soft. I knew her lips would be soft, I’ve spent enough time looking at them over the weeks to know that, but I wasn’t prepared for this.
For the warmth of her mouth and her skin against mine.
For the feel of her in my arms as I kiss her and the way it sends heat pulsing through my body.
For the rush of her scent, marshmallows and flowers, hitting me all at once.
I could stay here forever, but I’m supposed to keep this kiss brief and respectable. Wedding-appropriate.
Then her hand grips the lapel of my suit jacket, and she kisses me back.
My tongue finds hers. She tastes like champagne. Her hair is silk under my hand as I slide it to the nape of her neck, past the pearl pins and the braids and the flowers, finding warm skin underneath. She makes a tiny sound I’m certain no one else hears, but I do.
And I lose all my senses.
I tug her closer and she presses herself against me without hesitation.
I forget my family. Forget the mountains and the amethyst sky and the deal and the clean break. All of it gone. There’s just her. Her lips and her body pressed to mine and her hand gripping me like she’s not planning to let go.
My wife. Kissing me back.
Might as well give us a wedding photo to remember.
Still kissing her, I bend her back over my arm dramatically. She laughs against my lips, bright and surprised, and I smile into the kiss.
The cheering starts before I’ve fully brought her back upright.
Walker lets out a wolf whistle. Rafe smiles, a real one, rare as a blue moon, one I only see when my sister’s around.
Tanner calls out, “Save it for the wedding night, cowboy!”
Josie is crying and hugging Sadie, who wipes away a tear of her own, one baby balanced on her hip.
Baby Anne has no context for what’s happening but has correctly identified it as exciting and is waving both fists in the air accordingly.
Walker is holding Mari, who has grabbed his bolo tie and is attempting to eat it. He lets her.
Lucky does a full spin at our feet, clumsy and joyful, flower corsage listing sideways on her prosthetic leg, and then Jonah crashes into her with both arms, ring pillow abandoned in the grass, and she licks his face from chin to forehead before flopping on her back for a belly rub.
My dad stands at the front with his leather book closed and his warm eyes on mine. He doesn’t say anything. He raised all of us Rhodes kids on this land. He knows me better than anyone now that Mom is gone, and whatever he sees right now, he approves of it.
I can’t help but think about Lila’s family, with their pinched faces and cutting comments. Can’t help but think about her leaving them all behind at eighteen years old and building a different kind of life for herself, all alone.
She deserves a whole family whooping and crying for her at her wedding. Showing up for her and welcoming her with open arms. A family who understands just how amazing she is and cherishes her.
So I’m going to make sure she has one. For as long as I can.
She’s laughing, catching her breath, one hand still twisted in my jacket.
“Okay,” she says. Slightly breathless. “That was not what I expected.”
“No?” I say.
“No.” Her eyes are sparkling. “It was better.”
Just like that, we’re married.