Chapter 34 Wedding Plans and Realities
Wedding Plans and Realities
Grayson
The town takes over within twenty-four hours.
I'm not exaggerating.
By Sunday brunch at Mrs. Everly's house, Kate and I are facing what can only be described as an ambush of enthusiasm. Mrs. Everly has diagrams. Color-coded. With flowcharts.
Mrs. Patel is already taking notes on her tablet.
"The ceremony should be by the lake," Mrs. Everly declares, pointing to a hand-drawn sketch that's surprisingly detailed. "Right where you proposed. The whole town can fit there."
"The whole town?" Kate asks, equal parts thrilled and panicked.
"Of course! Everyone will want to come." Mrs. Everly pats Kate's hand. "We'll handle everything."
Doc Martinez leans back in his chair, grinning. "Just nod and smile, Kate. Once Dorothy gets an idea in her head, there's no stopping her."
"I heard that, Thomas," Mrs. Everly says without looking up.
I clear my throat. "Kate and I have been talking. We want to do something for Maple Glen. To thank everyone for becoming our family."
Mrs. Patel sets down her tablet. "Grayson, you don't have to."
"We want to," Kate says softly. "You've given us so much. Let us give back."
We walk them through it together. Professional event help that won't remove Maple Glen's charm—just make the day comfortable. Beautiful seating. Sound system. Thousands of fairy lights through the trees by the lake.
Mrs. Everly's eyes go misty.
A potluck, Kate explains, because that's what makes Maple Glen special. Supplemented with catering and dessert stations. A dessert wall mixing local bakeries with a few special additions.
"The coffee shop's cake is the centerpiece," I assure them.
Someone exhales in relief.
Wildflowers, Kate tells them. Local ones, arranged beautifully by a florist. Mixed with Dutch tulips and roses. Best of both worlds.
A string quartet for the ceremony. Local musicians at the reception. Vintage cars for anyone who can't make the walk to the lake in formal wear.
"And gift bags for every guest," Kate adds. "Local artisan goods. A way to say thank you for being part of our day."
A long silence.
Then Mrs. Everly starts crying.
"This is the most thoughtful thing I've ever heard."
"You welcomed me when I had nowhere to go," Kate says gently. "You became Grayson's family when he needed one. This is our way of saying we love you."
Doc Martinez raises his coffee cup. "To Kate and Grayson—and to Maple Glen getting the wedding of the century."
Everyone toasts. Kate's hand finds mine under the table and squeezes.
I squeeze back.
We're doing this. We're actually getting married.
The conversation erupts into excited chatter about recipes and coordination. Kate laughs, handling it all with grace.
But after a few minutes, I notice the moment she goes quiet.
Something's weighing on her.
—
Thursday evening, I find her on the porch steps, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the darkening forest.
I sit beside her. Close enough that our shoulders touch.
"Want to talk?"
She's quiet a long moment. "I never thought I'd have this."
"Any of it," she continues. "A wedding. A town full of people who care. Someone who loves me the way you do."
My chest tightens. "Kate—"
"I grew up in foster care, Grayson. House to house. Never belonging anywhere. I learned early—don't get attached. Don't hope for too much." Her voice is steady, but barely. "And then I became an adult and I thought, this is it. Work hard. Stay safe. Don't expect more."
I thread my fingers through hers.
"Then, I blew up an espresso machine." She laughs, shaky. "And got sent to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. And met this grumpy, impossible man who somehow saw past all my chaos."
"The chaos was my favorite part."
"I know." She leans her head on my shoulder. "That's what makes this overwhelming. I'm getting everything I never let myself dream about."
She's quiet again. Gathering something.
"My sister," she finally says. "Emma. She told me our mother is alive."
I go still.
"She said our mother kept records. Letters. Photos. She gave me up—but she kept records." Kate's voice cracks slightly. "Emma found me after my foster mother passed."
"And your mother?" I ask.
"Wants to meet me. At least, that's what Emma said." Kate pulls the blanket tighter. "Part of me wants to. To understand why she gave me up. To see if there's something worth salvaging."
"And the other part?"
"Is terrified." She looks up at me, eyes glistening. "What if she's awful? What if meeting her ruins the peace I've finally found?"
"What does your heart say?"
She closes her eyes. "To try. But my head keeps listing all the ways it could go wrong."
"Then listen to your heart."
"It's that simple?"
"It's that hard," I say. "But Kate—you've spent your whole life playing it safe. Maybe it's time to take the risk."
"What if I regret it?"
"What if you don't?"
A long breath out. "Will you be there? When I meet her?"
"Every step." I pull her into my arms. "I'll drive to get her myself if you want. Bring her here. Neutral ground. Whatever you need."
She holds me tighter.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me for loving you."
"I know. But I'm going to anyway."
We sit as the stars emerge one by one, the weight of her decision between us.
This is bigger than flowers and guest lists.
This is Kate finally facing the part of herself she's been running from her whole life.
—
Friday morning, I'm making coffee when she comes into the kitchen holding her phone.
"Emma texted. She gave me our mother's address. And her number."
I set down the coffee pot. "What do you want to do?"
She takes a breath. "Call her. Before the wedding."
"Do you want privacy?"
"Stay. Please."
I take her hand.
She dials with shaking fingers.
One ring. Two. Three.
Then a woman's voice.
"Hello?"
Kate's breath catches. "Is this Sarah? Sarah Mitchell?"
A long pause. "Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Kate. Kate Morgan." Her voice doesn't waver. "Your daughter."
The silence stretches.
Then—a sob.
"Kate? Oh my... Kate."
Tears stream down Kate's face. But she holds steady. "Emma found me. She told me about you."
"I've been hoping you'd call," the woman says, her voice breaking. "For years."
"I want to meet you. If that's okay."
"Yes. Oh, yes. When? Where?"
Kate looks at me. I nod.
"I'm getting married soon. In Maple Glen. My fiancé offered to bring you here. So we can talk."
"I'd like that. I'd like that so much."
When Kate finally hangs up, she's crying openly.
I pull her into my arms.
"She wants to meet me," Kate whispers. "She said she's been hoping I'd call."
"Of course she has."
"What if it goes badly?"
I hold her tighter. "Then we handle it."
"Together?"
"Together."
She presses her face against my chest.
The coffee goes cold on the counter.
Neither of us moves to reheat it.
Some things matter more.