28. Ned #2
She scurries back and Liesel takes her shoulders. “Do it like this,” Liesl says.
Ned tenses, waiting for Peggy to balk at being ordered around.
But she lets Liesl move her to stand in front of Ned and Abbot, facing Pat.
She hands Peggy a bottle of bubbles and oh, that’s going to make a mess, but Ned doesn’t stop her as Peggy unscrews the lid.
She dips the wand into the bottle with fierce concentration and then blows hard through the ring of soap.
“You have to go,” Liesl says and Peggy takes a step forward, stops, and slides the wand back into the bottle to start the process again.
Liesl waits behind her, Baxter’s leash in her hand, and a bow tied around it that was surely supposed to be on his neck.
It looks chewed on, the ends of the ribbon a little frayed.
Ned could probably get him to wear it with enough treats and patience, but Liesl is clearly busy anticipating her task, her expression too serious and focused to interrupt.
Yeah. This is a lot. It’s also really, really great.
Peggy takes a step and blows another trail of bubbles.
Some drift backward and Baxter raises his nose, sniffing at the spheres, but he thankfully doesn’t lunge for them.
Pat grins, watching her, clearly happy to wait.
Dad wipes at his eyes again. Baxter finally sits as Peggy makes it another two steps without stopping, and then he lays down with a huff.
Move, Ned used to tell himself in this same room. Stand up. That’s all you have to do. Deal with walking after that. It had felt like it took all his energy to drag himself through each day, to simply take a step and then another one.
That changed when Abbot came into his life. Because he made Ned change—made Ned want to change, really. Taught him how to remember to breathe after so long he hadn’t noticed his lungs burning, flicked on a light when Ned hadn’t known his eyes were straining in the dark.
Liesl starts down the aisle when Peggy’s most of the way to Pat, walking with a solemnity that belies Baxter wandering at a much more sedate pace, pausing to sniff the leg of a chair, probably hoping to find a stray french fry.
They planned this, her and Ned’s family and Pat, and threw this tiny little ceremony together, and that touches him right in a tender spot in his chest, crowding out the voice whispering This isn’t real.
He and Abbot are real. That, he’s very sure of.
“Ready?” he whispers. Pat’s grinning. Peggy climbs into Dad’s lap again.
Beside them, Mom takes the bubbles from her and carefully screws the cap back on.
Liesl tries to make Baxter sit at Pat’s feet, but Baxter lays down and yawns, oblivious to the sternly disappointed look on her face at his casual attitude toward the proceedings.
“If you are,” Abbot says.
Ned’s not, but when has his life ever bothered to wait for him? And it’s worked out well enough so far. “C’mon,” Ned says.
His footsteps sound loud on the scuffed floor. Everyone stands and turns to them. Mom raises her phone for a picture. Ned’s hand is sweating in Abbot’s, and surely he can feel it.
When they reach Pat, Abbot takes his other hand anyway, turning to face him despite Ned’s clammy palms.
Pat clears his throat. “We are gathered here today because these two just couldn’t wait another minute.”
“Pat,” Ned murmurs.
“But mostly because we all knew from the moment they got together where this was heading, and that we’d all be at their wedding eventually, so the sooner the better,” Pat says without missing a beat.
A chuckle ripples through the small crowd. Pat grins, clearly getting warmed up. “Sometimes two people just fit together, and let me say that after Ned’s first statistics class, that was absolutely the last thing I thought.”
Abbot’s mouth twitches in a smile and he squeezes Ned’s hands.
He has to smile too. This is ridiculous.
Pat is ridiculous, and this entire thrown-together ceremony, and the mess they created that led them here.
And he’s happy, too, his legs weak, his smile growing until it feels too large on his face.
“In fact, I thought we’d finally found someone who even easygoing Ned couldn’t get along with,” Pat says, “because they were polar opposites. Here we had Dr. Henry Abbot, who thought Ned should learn statistics, and then we had Ned, doing his best to simply survive that class. Now, I should have realized it was a clue that Ned, who can get along with anyone, absolutely could not stand this man. I heard more about this stats course than any other part of Ned’s doctorate program.
I couldn’t name another professor in the department, but heard about Dr. Abbot on the regular, and then one day Ned comes home with the casual news that oh yeah, we’re dating now. ” Pat winks at them.
Yeah. Dating. Ned meets Abbot in a small, shared smile.
“Was I surprised?” Pat asks. “Well, if I’d learned anything, it was that these two couldn’t be in a room together, and then lo and behold any room one of them was in, the other wasn’t far behind. Which is cool, because I’m very mature and very able to share Ned—”
Ned snorts.
“And if I’m going to share him with anyone, I’m glad it’s you,” Pat tells Abbot, pointedly ignoring Ned.
“Abbot, Henry, whatever, you are the perfect fit for Ned, which all of us here saw immediately, or immediately after he was done struggling through your class. And one of the best things about Ned finally getting his head out of his—um, butt, about you, is that we’ve all gotten to know you, too.
I can say without a doubt that we’re lucky to have you in the family. ”
“Thank you,” Abbot says softly.
“Thank you, man,” Pat says. “Now, it’s been one thing to share this last year with you two, and better even to know we all get to witness your future together. There’s so much to come as the two of you start your lives living in the same city again, and as Peggy grows up.”
Ned glances at her. She’s grinning, still perched on Dad’s lap, and he gives her a smile.
She is going to grow up, a fact that surprises him all over again.
And yeah, Abbot will be there for it. Middle school, her teenage years, eventually college and the young woman she’ll become.
Impossible to believe she won’t always be this little girl wearing a cape, that she’ll keep growing into her own person, and better still to know Abbot will play a part in that, with his gentleness, his patience, and his kindness.
I love you, Abbot had said to her, words Ned didn’t even know he was hungry to hear. He blinks quickly, his eyes growing hot.
“So,” Pat says.
Ned’s stomach jumps. Are they really doing this? Yes, they are. He’s gripping Abbot’s hands too tightly, he’s sure.
“Do you, Henry Abbot, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”
Abbot’s eyes meet Ned’s, clear and dark behind his glasses.
“I do,” he says.
“And do you, Ned Coppola, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”
This is huge. Overwhelming. So much packed into this tiny moment. It’s easier to just look at Abbot, to focus on him, and let the rest of what’s happening wash past them.
“I do,” he gets out.
“The rings, please, Mr. Baxter,” Pat says.
Liesl hurries forward, unfastening the ribbon from Baxter’s leash and passing it to Pat before she goes back to her seat.
“Um,” Pat says, holding the ribbon up. Threaded onto it are two simple gold bands.
Not too different from the ring that sits in Ned’s desk, and so entirely, completely unalike.
“Alright, slight unforeseen hiccup. I’m not sure which one is for which of you, so here you go, you two sort it out.
” He holds them out on his palm and they wink in the soft light.
Ned was never going to wear a wedding band again. Though he wasn’t going to date again, he’d told himself, and certainly not Abbot of all people.
But it’s Abbot, and of course Ned fell for him, and of course they’ve managed to end up here.
Abbot’s fingers are a little slimmer than Ned’s, so Ned reaches for the slightly smaller ring.
His hands are shaking. Or Abbot’s are. The ring’s a bit tight sliding over Abbot’s knuckle, but Ned manages to work it onto his finger.
Ned’s ring is tight too, and he automatically touches the band with his thumb when Abbot slides it on, wanting to spin the ring like he used to.
They don’t have to keep them, if they don’t want to. They’re not really married.
Except they really are, because Pat is grinning ear to ear, and there are rings on their fingers, and the shape of the words I do still sit in Ned’s mouth.
“By the power vested in me by the form I filled out on the internet today, I pronounce you husband and husband. Go on, kiss him.”
Ned does. There’s an unfamiliar ring on his finger and a license to be signed and sent to Newbury to complete this whole show. And then the evening ahead before he can process everything that’s happened, but Abbot is a constant.
Always, Ned thinks, and puts his arms around him and kisses him. Always and forever, and that’s terrifying and wonderful and for as big a mess as this is, it makes perfect sense.