55. We Can Fix the Admin Later
We Can Fix the Admin Later
Bree
Three months later
‘Y ou’re late,’ Zoe says as I rush into Cara’s house to find all the women in my family in the living room, from Lottie all the way up to Grandma. Lucas is here, too, because here is where Zoe’s boobs are. Caterers and decorators mill around like worker bees getting everything ready.
‘Five minutes.’ I shrug, and Missy points at me, her sage green dress hanging over her now very prominent baby bump.
‘Late is late, Breanne.’
‘Oh, shut up.’ I smile as I head over to hug my friend, then my twin, then, well, everybody else.
‘Why are you late?’ Cara asks as she applies my mom’s makeup, and I snatch up a glass of champagne.
‘I just lost track of time.’
They all laugh and make jokes about Arlo and me at the exact same time, and I roll my eyes.
‘A healthy sex life is very important,’ Mama says, and I smile.
‘Thank you, Mama. I think so, too.’
‘What’s a sex life?’ Bowie’s question has us all grimacing.
‘Oh, Doug’s going to kill me,’ Cara grimaces, and I bend down to scoop up Bowie into a hug.
‘Never you mind, young lady. Shall we go upstairs and do something about this hair?’
Nodding, she takes my hand and pulls me upstairs to her bedroom. Her bridesmaid dress hangs on the door, her brand-new little Converse ready and waiting to spend the day pounding around Cara’s house and backyard.
‘Auntie Bree,’ Bowie says sweetly into the mirror as she sits at her dressing table, and I stand behind her, my hands on her shoulders.
‘Yes, Bo Bo?’
‘You know how auntie Missy and Uncle Nick are not really my auntie and uncle?’ Smiling, I pick up her brush and spray some detangling spray on her hair. What the hell does this child do for her hair to end up like this? You know what, never mind, my little wild child can keep her secrets. ‘Auntie Bree?’
‘Sorry, honey, yes, I know.’
‘Well, you’re really my auntie, right?’
‘Yes, sweetheart, your daddy is my baby brother.’ She giggles at me, calling Doug a baby.
‘So, when you marry Arlo, he’ll be my uncle.’
My stomach flips at her words— when you marry Arlo, like she’s so sure that will happen.
‘Yes, sweetheart. If I get married to Arlo, he’ll be your uncle.’
‘Do you think he would mind if I called him uncle now?’ I meet her eye once more and swallow around the lump in my throat. ‘Because he’s always kind to me, and he gives me free doughnuts at the diner, and he teaches me how to train Harley and Beans, and when he gives me shoulder rides, it’s so high up, I’m like a giant.’
I laugh lightly at that, but mostly so I don’t cry. Watching Arlo slot into small-town life this past couple of months has been beautiful. He’s been relaxed and full of joy and watching him with my whole family brings me a peace I didn’t know I’d ever find.
‘You know, Bo, I don’t think he would mind that at all, but why don’t you have a little talk with him, you know, one-on-one, friend to friend? I think he would appreciate that.’
‘You do?’
Nodding I lean down to press a kiss on the top of her head.
‘I do, honey.’
M y mom married Merv in a beautiful ceremony, officiated by Missy, inside Cara and Doug’s house. The last-minute change of ceremony location from the backyard was a rush thanks to the un-forecast downpour, but we made it work, and now I’m a little tipsy and feeling mischievous.
Glancing over to where Arlo and Bowie are having what appears to be a very serious conversation, I smile widely as he beams at her, and she leans forward to wrap her arms around him in the sweetest hug. I guess he’s Uncle Arlo now.
Making my way toward them, I burn up with the way he looks up at me and the feel of his large hand that comes to rest at my hip.
‘Hey, you two,’ Bowie can’t keep the smile from her face, and I reach out for her hand. ‘Bo Bo, you feel like coming to dance with me?’
She jumps up, shouting yes, but then seems confused when I pull her toward the back doors.
‘Auntie Bree, the dance floor is over there.’
‘I know.’ I lean in and lower my voice, ‘But I feel like dancing in the rain.’
Bowie squeals and drags me out into the backyard. We run onto the lawn, dancing as the rain pours, soaking us spot by spot, and gradually, our family trickles out, the sounds of joy and love, music and laughter all around us.
As my dress clings to my skin, and my hair hangs limp and soaked, I glance up to see Arlo leaning casually against the porch railing, watching me, a soft, happy smile on his face. He pushes away from the railing and walks toward me, time slowing down as our gazes rest on each other until he finds the small of my back with his hand, holding my body to his.
Leaning back, I smile at the look of love he’s sending my way.
‘You look happy, pix.’
‘I am.’
‘Give the girl a rainstorm and watch her shine.’ His deep, rumbly voice wraps me up and makes me feel like we’re in a bubble, the two of us in the middle of my dancing, laughing family.
‘It’s you, Arlo. You make me shine,’ I admit happily, and he bends to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. ‘This, us, you, my family. It’s everything I have ever wanted.’
‘Bowie asked if she could call me Uncle Arlo.’ I nod as I smile at his soft, sweet expression.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said I should probably marry you first.’
‘Oh.’ I feel a little disappointed for Bo. I thought he’d say yes.
‘So, she said marry her then because I want to call you my uncle.’ Grinning, he brings his forehead to mine. ‘And well, I don’t want to make her wait, so what do you say?’
‘What?’ I gasp, pulling my head back to hold his gaze, stunned at what he’s suggesting.
‘Our whole family is here. Missy can do the ceremony. We can fix the admin later.’
‘Right now?’ I squeak. ‘You’re asking me to marry you right now?’
‘Well, it is for Bowie.’ He winks, and I laugh. This is crazy, right? Turning, I notice the way our whole family, Arlo’s dad included, has arranged themselves in the rain. They knew about this.
‘Oh my god.’
Arlo lowers my bare feet back to the soft, wet ground and reaches into his pocket for a small box. My breath catches in my throat, and my hands come up to cover my mouth.
‘What do you say, pix. You feel like making this thing official?’
‘Please say yes, Auntie Bree.’ Bowie calls out, making everybody laugh, and I turn my face up, raising my attention from the ring in Arlo’s hand to the ice-blue eyes I spent the past twenty years dreaming about.
‘Yes.’ I say firmly and see his shoulders sag in relief. Did he seriously think I would say no? ‘Yes, baby. Let’s do this.’
The End