39. Luc
39
LUC
FOREVER ISN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE AN EXPIRATION DATE
“ I know you’re gonna stop that story right there,” Marcus snarls. He cradles Billy against his chest and breathes like a wounded bull. “I don’t wanna hear what happened next.”
“Fuck off, farmer.” Kane turns and glowers at my best friend. “ I want to know what happens next.”
Frustrated, Marcus widens his eyes and looks at me. So I chuckle, though the sound is less real now that we’re getting to this part of our life. That time we swore forever. That night we promised to never be apart again.
It’s hardly even clever irony that I’m here in that house now. With Billy. With the guys. But without my son, and without the one person on this planet I need to exist.
“She promised to never leave,” I rasp out, ignoring Kane and Marcus’ issues and turning toward my kitchen instead. My voice turns thick with dread. The pain in my heart, seemingly heavier today than it was yesterday. “We made promises inside this home. To always be here together. And now I have to go back to the hospital and I…” I look at Jess, who lingers, wringing her hands together. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“We just have to give it time,” she whispers. Her voice breaks, aching and sad as she swallows. “I just…” she shrugs. “We have to be patient.”
“Tell us about the wedding,” Kane rumbles. “That’s the next step, right? Tell us that stuff. ”
“You were there.” I chew on the inside of my cheek and spin to go to the fridge. Anything to avoid looking into their eyes right now. “All of you were there that day. So I don’t need?—”
“Tell it to us anyway,” Jess inserts. “We only saw what we saw. The gown. The church. The I dos . But we weren’t in your head. We weren’t in the moments between you and her.”
“Probably best,” Marcus grumbles. “Some things are best left private.”
“Can you do me a favor, Marcus?” Swallowing, I grab a can of soda from the fridge and turn back to search his eyes. “Can you take Billy up and get her ready to go see her mommy?” I look down at the onesie I had dressed her in. Plain and practical. Zippers instead of press studs to make a diaper change easier. But Kari deserves better. She deserves the frilly, pretty-in-pink doll she always dreamed about through eight hard months of pregnancy. “Put her in a dress or something. A bow on her head. Make a whole thing of it.”
“Sure.” He frowns and remains still. Hesitant. But he angles back toward the hall. “I’ll…” Then he nods. “Sure. Okay. You alright?”
“Yeah. I just figure it’s an important day for us all. So get her in a dress or something. Kari picked out a million of them before the babies arrived, so I thought?—”
“I got it.” He rocks Billy, though she’s already asleep, and turns on his heels cautiously. “I’ll just be upstairs, alright? I won’t be long.”
I take my drink to the table and pull out a chair to sit down. Then I look at Jess and nod at Marcus’ back. “Wanna help him? You have practice dressing girls.”
“Sure.” She comes around behind me and wraps her arm across my chest. Resting her cheek on mine—it’s a hug, but also, a chance to communicate with her husband whose eyes narrow—then she plops a kiss on my cheek and pulls away. “I’ll be back soon. Promise.”
N erves swarm the church, palpable as though they’re actual waves in the air we can all see and feel. My stomach bounces with anxious energy and my heart thunders as the clock ticks closer to two and still, the girls aren’t here.
Marcus stands on my left, and beside him, Angelo, Scotch, and then Kane. The other side of our platform, where bridesmaids should stand, is empty. Jess, Laine, and Britt, are off somewhere else, fucking around and becoming a direct threat to my mental well-being.
Sammy sits in the front row, holding the sweet girl she and Scotch adopted. And beside her, Jules cradles her and Alex’s daughter. Kane and Jess made daughters. Jay and Soph: daughters. Ang and Laine: a daughter. Seems our town has had a baby boom of the female variety. Except Marcus and the little baby boy I helped deliver. And Britt and Jack, who went ahead and made sons too. Loads of them. Big, strong, black-haired future fighters who came into this world with Brittany friggin’ Turner and Jack ‘The Jackhammer’ Reilly as their parents. It’s a potent mix, really. Boisterous and dangerous. And still, Britt shows no signs of slowing.
“Why are they taking so long?” I look at Marcus, my jaw clenching as anxiety grows too strong in my blood and my palms turn sweaty. “She’s not like my sisters, Marc. She’s not the diva who wants a grand entrance.”
“No,” he smirks, “but she’s with your sisters. So even if she was ready early and wanted to get in the car, what do you reckon the twins said about that?”
“Stop talking shit about my wife,” Kane grumbles. “I can hear you motherfuckers.”
“Don’t say motherfucker in church,” Ang snarls, pressing his arm to Kane’s chest and nudging him back. “Be better, Bish.”
“They’re fine,” Marcus rumbles. We have an entire church filled to the brim, hundreds of people watching us. Waiting. Bored, because the bride isn’t here yet. So we’re forced to keep our words low. Our lips, barely moving. “Meg is planning this thing, and she’s with the girls. She already texted me that everything is fine.”
“ Everything? ” Ang questions. “Laine is good?”
“Last I heard, they all did a shot of tequila to calm their nerves.”
“Fuck.” Me, Ang, and Kane all drop back onto our heels. Because tequila means trouble. And trouble on my wedding day… I look at Scotch and scowl. “This is gonna be like that time you got your new nickname, dickhead.”
“Me?” He grabs the lapels of his suit and chuckles. “What the hell did I do?”
“Don’t say hell in church,” Kane growls. “Have some class, man.”
“ I’m right here,” Scotch presses on. “Sammy’s over there.” He lifts his chin in her direction. “We have nothing to do with this mess. ”
“Your sister is the ringleader of messy,” I snap. “Britt is the bad influence and you know it.”
“Says Queen Messy himself,” Jack rumbles from his seat. “My wife is an angel. So you better mind your manners, Luca. Besides, everyone knows the Lenaghan twins are the fuckin’ issue.”
“Don’t say fuck in church!” Kit—his older sister—slaps his chest. “Dammit, Jack.”
“I’m hearing a lot of negativity rolling around about my wife,” Kane sneers. “I’m obligated, as her man, to throw hands on her behalf.” He looks at Jack and raises a brow. “I can fight, bro. Don’t test me.”
“You gonna bring a gun to a fistfight?” Jack chuckles. “Or will you roll like a man?”
“Define like a man .” Kane steps off our platform and casually fixes his tie. “You say fighting with your fists is noble. I say ending a fight with expediency is smart.”
“We could give it a try,” Jack taunts. So fucking casual, tucked up beside his big sister. He’s a grown ass man, married to Britt, and a world champ a few times over. But he smiles now because he has two fighter women sitting on each side of his chair. His sister. And his sister-in-law. Both know how to choke a dude out without breaking a nail. “You know where my gym is. I’ll have security let you pass.”
“Security,” Kane snorts. “Bitch, I am your security.”
“Don’t say bitch in church!” Kit explodes. “What is wrong with you people?”
“You gotta calm down,” her husband sniggers. “You’re overreacting a bit, babe.”
“Overreacting?” She spins on him, exorcist style. “You think I should calm down, Bobby?”
The organs begin playing, loud enough to drown out Bobby’s plea and apology. Then Kane laughs when Jack blows an air kiss. My entire life, everyone I know in it, is fucking crazy. But Kane, at least, backs up to stand in line beside Ang, and the doors at the rear of the church open with a loud creak and heated anticipation.
Sunlight spills in, bathing the wooden floors and illuminating dust that floats in the air. Then a wildly pregnant Britt steps in first, her skin glowing and her smile large enough to almost suggest she, too, was downing tequila shots.
She wasn’t, of course. But I have no doubt she was the one who supplied the liquor .
“See?” Marcus rumbles in my ear, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me back so I’m in line once more. I didn’t even realize I’d stepped out of it. “They’re here.”
“And they’re not stumbling.” I lean to the left and search for the rest of them. Jess. Laine. Most importantly, Kari. But the sunlight is blinding, and Britt is taking up all focus. “Bear’s gonna be with them, right? She’s not in a separate car?”
“Shush.” Jack sneers from the front row. “It’s Britt’s turn to shine.”
“This is my wedding! You shush.”
Jack only snickers like a kid in a candy store, hopped up on sugar and ready to set shit on fire. “You’re super tense, bro. You okay?”
“Shush!” Kit snarls. “Have some respect.”
The organs continue to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The music is slow and sweet, which is the very opposite of everything we, collectively, are. But Britt wears a beaming grin, swaying her hips and radiant in a strapless gown of midnight black that goes all the way to the floor. Her usually straight hair is done half up, half down, with expertly ironed curls that give her extra height. Her lips glisten bright red, and her eyes sparkle a blinding blue. She’s stunning in her happiness. Playful in the way she almost dances along the aisle. Then she turns right instead of left, sneaking a kiss with her husband before she goes the way she’s supposed to and takes up her position on my right.
Pachelbel continues and Laine steps into the doorway, and right beside her, Jess follows, slipping her arm in our sister’s and creating a united front.
They could have walked separately. They could have each had their moment, gliding along the aisle and drawing my torture out as long as possible. But they choose togetherness. Ever since Laine’s run in with her ex, they now choose unity.
And for that, I’m both relieved and thankful.
Nothing good ever comes when they’re apart.
Kane and Ang practically vibrate. Their eyes hanging out of their heads and their smiles giddy and, frankly, gross. But while the girls walk and the guys ogle, I take a moment to prepare myself. To take a deep breath and fill my lungs. To clear my eyes and firm my jaw.
Because fuck me, it quivers a little bit.
Finally, the twins reach our end of the aisle and go to their men first. Completely against protocol, and yet, there isn’t a single part of me that begrudges them for their happiness. They exchange kisses and sweet words, then the girls step away, passing me with smirky grins and trouble in their eyes.
The organs stop, suddenly, shockingly, almost like the power has been cut. But then a recording plays over the speakers instead. The strum of a guitar I would recognize anywhere. The soft melody of a piano. And then Scotch’s deep, gritty singer’s voice.
They’ve taken Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time and slowed it right down, until emotion clogs in my throat and my heart gives a final, painful splat that could be the end of me if not for the beautiful woman who steps through the doors and glows hotter than the sun itself.
“Oh shit.” I press a hand to my thundering heart and groan. “Fuck, Bear.”
“Don’t say fuck in church,” Marc chuckles. Then he claps my shoulder and breaks away from his place on my left. He dashes along the aisle, literally runs, and makes an entire fucking scene I expect to draw a vicious blush to Kari’s cheeks. But when he takes her arm in his instead, she just… she allows it.
“We lied to you about a few shifts at work,” Scotch murmurs, nudging closer now that Marc is missing. “Kari wanted this song, and she wanted us to play it for her.”
I lick my dry lips and watch as the brother-sister duo make their way along the aisle.
“We could have set up our gear and played the set while she walked, but she didn’t want you to be alone up here either. She wanted this day to be as special for you as you want it to be for her, so she had us practice this song and record it for today. So we could still be with you, and so Marc could give her away.”
“She asked Marc to give her away?” I turn my head, breaking my view of her smiling face for just a beat, and meet Scotch’s eyes. “She wanted that?”
“She asked him to give her to you,” Ang inserts. “This isn’t about ownership or giving her up to any random dude. She wanted him to give her to you . No one else will do.”
I bring my hand up and wipe it over my mouth, scratching along the stubble I never truly get rid of, and pray I don’t cry like a bitch on my wedding day. “Wow. That’s…” I draw a heady breath and look back at Kari. Finally, she’s close enough I can actually see her eyes. The pink swelling that says she’s been crying, and the wide grin that assures me she’s okay. “That’s a big deal,” I finish. “I thought she was gonna walk alone.”
“She’s a proud woman,” Kane finishes. “But she’s not so proud as to give all of herself to you.”
“Stop talking,” Marcus snarls from six feet away. “Focus!”
Kari giggles. It’s watery and silly. But it’s happy, and that’s all I ever ask of her.
To be happy.
“You asked for this song?” I step forward, though I’m not sure I’m supposed to, and extend my hand in expectation. “Bear? You wanted them to play this for us?”
“Because I choose you.” She drags her lip between her teeth and releases Marcus’ hand. Taking mine instead, she steps in and stops only when her chest touches mine and my free hand comes up to cup her neck. “I will always choose you. Time after time.”
“Alright!” Jay Bishop clears his throat and increases the volume of his voice until everyone can hear him. Even the fucking cow sitting out at Marc’s house right now. He lifts his arms, like Moses himself parting the red seas, and wears a robe I’m certain he stole from a real priest. Then he looks at me and smirks. “We are all gathered here today to sign some lifetime binding contracts.”