Epilogue-The Gift That Keeps on Giving
”ARE YOU SURE this is a good idea?” Lydia”s not even pretending like she thinks my plan is brilliant, which is okay. I don’t need her to.
Because I know it’s brilliant. I also know my soon-to-be husband understands that in addition to being brilliant, I”m also a little crazy. Can be like a dog with a bone when I set my mind to something and adopt a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of attitude from time to time. They’re characteristics he’s claimed to love on more than one occasion, and now it”s time for him to put his money where his mouth is.
“It’s going to be fine.” I smooth down the drapey layers of chiffon that make up my flowing turquoise dress for the thousandth time. I keep thinking that if I can get the front to lay just right, I won”t look as big as a house.
Even though I am.
“I don’t know. I think this is a lot to spring on him at a time like this.” Lydia remains unconvinced. I get it. The wedding gift I’m giving Tate is a little unique. Definitely not something you can buy from the store or order off Amazon.
It would have made things a whole lot easier if I could have, though. Saved me a ton of time.
”I promise he”s going to love it.” I mess with my curled hair a little, adjusting the ring of flowers woven through the strands. I’m fidgety. Not because I”m nervous and need something to do with my hands—I”m genuinely fine—it”s more about knowing that in a few minutes there will be a million pictures taken of me. And while I can”t do anything about the pregnancy puffiness I”ve fallen victim to, I would really love it if everything else looks as perfect as I can make it.
Lydia blows out a long breath, lips pursing with the action. ”I guess I”m just going to have to trust that you know what you”re doing then.”
I collect my bouquet from where it’s resting in a vase on top of my dresser. ”I always know what I”m doing.” Even when I know I shouldn”t be doing it.
At least I”ve matured out of my act first, think later phase. Being with Tate and impending motherhood have helped me find my center. My reactions are no longer knee-jerk. Now they come with careful forethought and planning. They”re still frequently the same reactions I would have had before, now the executions are just better.
Lydia falls silent as my Bridal Chorus escort quietly enters the room. After a few seconds of awkward silence, my best friend checks her phone and flashes me a tight smile. ”Looks like it”s time.” Lydia checks over her own dress, gives her hair a little fluff, and strides out of the bedroom Tate and I share.
As her heels click down the staircase, I give my newly acquired partner in crime a bright smile, hoping it will calm her nerves. ”Ready?”
I don”t wait for a response—it was a rhetorical question—before I loop my arm through hers, and together we carefully descend the stairs, moving through the quiet house to wait behind the front door.
When Tate and I decided last fall that we wanted to get married before Peanut was born, we figured it would be easy to throw together a wedding and be husband and wife before Thanksgiving. We didn’t care where or when it happened, so it should have been easy to find a venue.
Wrong.
The soonest we could book was the beginning of May, which is a lovely time to get hitched, but also a week after my due date. So we came up with a Plan B. And I would say Plan B is absolutely the better alternative. Not only was I was able to get ready in my own home, but if our family gets shit faced, they only have to stumble a few yards to pass out in their very own beds.
Did this plan mean we had to wait until the weather was decent enough we could brave the outdoors? Yes. Did it also mean I would be well into my third trimester on my wedding day? Also yes. But last night, when I saw how beautifully our family decorated the rented tent taking up the bulk of our dead-end block, and I got to see how excited they all were to be a part of making this day happen, there wasn”t a doubt in my mind this is exactly how it should be. Waddle and all.
Especially since—in a full-circle moment I couldn’t have planned if I wanted to—waiting changed everything in the best possible way. I know Tate wasn”t a fan of postponing—never has been—but I think he might change his mind.
Soon.
The opening chords of the Bridal Chorus blast through the DJ’s speakers outside, and I turn to the meek and mild woman beside me. ”Show time.”
Her smile is timid, but there’s a determined glint in her eye as she gives me a nod. The door in front of us pushes open and the brisk early April air lifts my skirt and my hair, making me shiver. Niko and Evan stand at either side of the stoop, there in case we need an extra hand as we maneuver our way to the heated air of the enclosed tents. Evan gives me a wink as I pass while Niko leans in to press a kiss to the cheek of the woman at my side, proving all I told her is true.
Thanks to the length of my dress and the questionable terrain, it takes us a of couple minutes to make it to the sidewalk and over the curb. Having someone else with me right now is unexpectedly emotional. I always thought I’d be on my own in moments like this. I give her arm a little squeeze, swallowing around the tightness in my throat as we reach the edge of the tent obscuring us from view. The DJ situated at the very back of the space tips his head at me and switches the music. I take a deep breath as The Wedding March announces my arrival. ”Here we go.”
Her steps falter a little bit, but I plow forward, keeping her moving as we pass along the back row of guests and turn to face the altar where my whole world waits for me with Christian at his side.
Tate’s blue eyes fix on me the way they always do. Like I’m the only thing that exists. The only thing that matters. The intensity and love I see staring back at me makes my breath catch as I begin closing the remaining distance between us. The bright smile from earlier hasn’t left my face, and my cheeks are starting to ache, but I won’t be able to lose it anytime soon. Not when I know what”s coming.
It takes longer than I expected for Tate to notice I”m not alone, and when his attention finally shifts to my side, his brows pinch together in confusion.
I see it the second recognition hits. Feel it in every inch of my body and soul when Tate realizes it”s his mother at my side. The look of disbelief, followed by shock, followed by an amount of joy I”ve never seen on another person, is worth all the effort that led to this moment. All the time it took me to find her. All the convincing Rita needed to believe Tate wasn”t angry with her. All the explaining I had to do so she would understand she’ll never be a burden to us. That we want her in our lives.
That we understand why she did what she did. Especially now that we have Peanut on the way.
I never want to hold my children back. Never want them to suffer for my gain. If only one of us can be free, then I will choose them every fucking time.
And that’s what she did.
Tate goes still and Rita sucks in a breath beside me as she sees her son for the first time in years. Her free hand lifts to cover her mouth as she tries to blink away the tears in her eyes.
Christian rests one hand on Tate’s shoulder, offering support as I pick up the pace. I don’t want to make either of them wait a second longer for a reunion that should have happened a long fucking time ago.
When we reach him, Rita tries to step back, like she thinks this day is about me.
It’s not.
I get to celebrate loving her son for the rest of my life. Yes, marrying Tate is important, but it was a given.
Having her here was not.
Well… I would have kidnapped her if she’d continued to play hard to get, so maybe it was a given too.
I hold my breath as Tate holds his mother while she cries against his suit—and our guests blubber all over each other—doing my best not to ruin the makeup hiding the freaking melasma that showed up these past few weeks. As if never-ending morning sickness and edema weren’t fun enough on their own.
After a few minutes, Tate reaches for me, one large hand spanning the back of my skull as he pulls me in for a kiss. His forehead drops to mine the way it does when he’s emotionally overwhelmed as he draws in a few deep breaths. Then he turns to the minister—who’s also crying.
“Make her my wife as fast as you can.”
As requested, the ceremony flies by. We celebrate late into the night—another perk of Plan B—and I feel like I don’t stop until the tent is finally starting to clear out and the DJ is playing his final song.
My husband pulls me onto the dance floor one final time, holding me as close as he can with Peanut between us. I sway along with him as our family collects trash and chairs and polishes off the champagne.
“Did you like your wedding gift?” It’s another rhetorical question, but I can’t stop myself from asking.
“I can’t believe you got her to leave.” Tate’s eyes drift to where his mother sits with Jill. “I thought she’d stay there forever.”
“I leveled with her, mother to mother.” I smooth my hands down his button-up. “I also told her I’d let her hold Peanut as much as she wants if she came here.”
As I suspected, Tate was thrilled to discover I told Rita she would be living with us since I’d be needing help with the baby soon. I think that was the straw she needed to pull the trigger, and I wasn’t above using everything in my arsenal to get her here. For Tate. For me.
For her.
“You are amazing. Best wedding gift ever.” Tate’s hands slide over my well-rounded hips and non-existent waist. “I can’t wait to see what you think of what I got you.”
Thank you so much for reading Tell Me No Lies. Are you dying to know what Tate got Piper for her wedding gift?
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It’s hard to believe we’re getting close to the end of our time here in Memphis. If you were paying attention (and are familiar with some of my other series) you might have some ideas about where I’ll be going next…
But not until I finish this series.
Simon and Myra are next in line and their book is going to be a wild ride.
First comes love. Then comes marriage.
We all know how the rhyme ends.
Except I don’t want love. I sure as heck don’t want another marriage.
But a baby? That I’m desperate for.
And I know exactly who can help me fulfill my dream.
Simon has always been there for me. He listens to me. Supports me. Makes me feel like maybe I’m not as broken as I think I am. He wants me to be happy. To move beyond the pain of my past.
That’s why I’m shocked and more than a little disappointed when he doesn’t immediately agree to my offer.
Then he explains his conditions and I’m downright terrified.
There will be no single-motherhood for me if we do this. Simon wants not only in my bed, but also in my life.
I’m not sure that’s a deal I can make.
And when the past comes back to haunt me, I might not get the chance to decide.