Chapter 9
chapter
nine
Henry
The first thing I notice is the lights.
Not the building—not the people—not even the band tuning up off to the left. It’s the damn lights strung up across the open yard like a Texas sky decided to come down and sit just above our heads. Twinkling lights flicker everywhere.
Gracie’s mouth is open as she looks around, taking it all in. “Looks like a bunch of lightning bugs,” she says.
“Fireflies,” I add.
She looks up at my face and I can’t help it, I lean down and brush my lips against hers.
“You look beautiful tonight, did I tell you that already?”
“You did not.”
“Well, you do.”
“Thank you.”
I grab her hand, threading our fingers together.
She pauses. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m a terrible lar.”
“We’re not lying. You are legally my wife and I am your husband. Nothing false about that.”
The delicious scent of meat slow-cooking on the black smokers set up along the far fence permeates the air. My stomach growls. “I can already tell I’m going to need at least two plates before the night’s over.”
Gracie laughs. “I do love some good brisket.”
“See? We’ve got this,” I say. “We’re going to eat some barbecue, talk to friends and family, maybe dance, then it’ll be over. Relax, Firefly, everything will be fine.”
In all the years I’ve known Gracie, I could probably count the number of times I’ve seen her wear a dress. But she’s wearing one tonight, and it’s making my jeans uncomfortably tight in certain places.
It’s soft and fitted around her breasts, then flowy everywhere else. It flutters when she moves, and I’m mesmerized. Her hair’s down, and while I love her in her usual braids, her hair flowing down her back is giving me wicked thoughts.
We walk hand-in-hand towards the main pavilion.
Behind us, a truck door slams. Someone laughs loudly. Music kicks up—fiddle and guitar, something upbeat and easy—and just like that, the whole place shifts. It’s safe to say that Saddle Creek is in full swing.
“My mother hasn’t been speaking to me,” I tell Gracie as we walk. “She’s mad about us eloping.”
“Oh, I hope she’s not mad at me, too. I love your mother.”
“Nah, she likely blames me.” I squeeze her hand.
There’s my family.
Blankenships spread out like we own the place. Which, technically, we might. Between my dad’s side of the family and my mom and her two brothers, our family collectively owns a lot.
My two brothers are clustered with our brothers-in-law, Ethan and Thorne, near the bar, already giving each other shit. Bram Whitmore and my Uncle Graham drag tables together. Kids are running wild underfoot like they’ve been set loose on purpose.
And right in the center of it all are my paternal grandparents, Mimz and Pops.
He’s got one hand wrapped around hers, the other holding a beer. She’s smiling over at him like she’s been doing it for the last fifty-something years and still hasn’t gotten bored.
Something in my chest tightens.
That’s what tonight is supposed to be about.
Them. And that love that has endured five decades. It’s why I thought we could announce our marriage here. Maybe Gracie could see what we could have together.
“Hey,” Gracie says. “You’d better not leave me to fend for myself with this story of ours.”
“Wasn’t planning on wandering off.”
“Good.”
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else anyway. I’ve got the prettiest girl here on my arm.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, before I forget.” I pull the ring out of my front jeans pocket and slide it onto her left ring finger.
She looks down at the simple platinum band. “It’s beautiful, Henry.”
“And no stones, so there shouldn’t be anything to get hung on dough or whatever.” I slide my own band on. “Now we’re official.”
I tighten my grip just enough to guide her forward. “C’mon,” I say. “Let’s go give the people something to talk about.”
She huffs out a quiet laugh, but it’s a little breathless around the edges. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll manage that without our help.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
We take our first step into the crowd together.
It takes exactly three seconds for someone to notice us.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
I don’t even have to look to know who that is.
I grin, already bracing myself. “Here we go.” I squeeze her hand.
By the time we’ve made it through the bulk of the crowd and have claimed seats at one of the tables, my face hurts from smiling.
Caroline appears with plates of food for Gracie and me. “I figured it might take y’all forever to actually get food and back to a table with everything still hot.”
“Oh, thank you,” Gracie says. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Sweetness, pick a seat so I can put these plates down.” That comes from Damien, Caroline’s husband. “Let’s sit with the happy couple, yeah?”
“Yes, y’all sit with us,” Gracie says.
They sit, and then Caroline waves another woman over, whom she introduces as Cora Black.
Cora is new to town and works as Pops and Mimz’s caretaker.
They both still feisty, but everyone feels better knowing they aren’t living entirely on their own.
I hadn’t met Cora before now, but I like her, despite the fact that Oliver has spent all day scowling at her in a way that is so uncharacteristic I’d give him shit about it if I wasn’t already caught up in my own shit.
We visit and eat, and eventually my dad stands and gives a toast to his parents.
A few groans. Some laughter. Then, a few tears as he talks about following their example in his own marriage. He ends everything with “Happy wife, happy life, right darlin’?”
My mother heckles her agreement.
I feel Gracie shift beside me, her shoulder brushing mine.
“Pops wants to say a few words,” my dad says.
That does it.
The crowd settles like someone flipped a switch.
Pops steps forward, slow and steady, one hand reaching back for Mimz without even looking. She fits into his side like she’s been doing it her whole life because she basically has been.
He clears his throat. “Didn’t figure I’d have to make a speech to get barbecue on my own anniversary,” he mutters.
Laughter ripples through the crowd.
And then he does what he always does—keeps it simple. Talks about years and luck and stubbornness. About how loving someone isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it.
About choosing the same person again and again.
By the time he’s done, there’s not a dry eye in sight.
Including, apparently, mine.
Damn it.
Before I can regroup, Pops’ gaze lands on me.
And then—because he enjoys chaos—he nods once.
“Henry,” he says. “Why don’t you come up here a minute?”
A low murmur moves through the crowd.
Gracie goes very still beside me.
I exhale slowly, then tip my beer back for one last swallow before setting it back on the table.
“Of course he calls me out,” I mutter under my breath.
Gracie’s fingers brush mine for just a second. “You’ve got this.”
Do I?
I mean yes, I’ve been planning to make the announcement all night, but I didn’t want to steal too much of their thunder. They earned this party.
I step forward, boots crunching over gravel, every set of eyes in the place tracking me like I’m about to do something entertaining. Which, knowing this family, I probably am.
“Seems like you might need to make an announcement,” Pops says.
Figures.
I glance out over the crowd.
My family.
My town.
People who’ve known me my whole life… and people who think they do.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck. “Alright,” I say. “I’m gonna keep this short, ‘cause I know most of y’all are here for the brisket and not my shining personality.”
A few chuckles. Someone whistles.
Good. Keep it easy.
“And I’m also aware,” I go on, “that anything worth knowing in Saddle Creek spreads faster than a grass fire in August.”
That gets a bigger reaction. Some outright laughter now.
“So odds are,” I continue, “most of you have already heard what I’m about to say.”
I glance back over my shoulder.
Gracie’s sitting a few feet away, lit up under those string lights, watching me, a sweet smile on her lips.
“But,” I say, turning back to the crowd, “we figured this was as good a time as any to make it official.”
A beat.
Then I nod toward her. “Gracie, sweetheart—c’mere.”
The word slips out easier than it should.
She hesitates for half a second.
Then she comes to me.
I reach for her without thinking this time, my hand settling at her waist as she steps into my side. She fits there like she belongs.
Like she always has.
“Y’all already know Gracie,” I clear my throat, tighten my grip just slightly. “But tonight I get to introduce her as my wife.”
Wife.
A ripple moves through the crowd—some cheers, some “about damn time,” a few knowing laughs.
I huff out a breath. “Yeah, yeah. Y’all can act surprised if you want, but I know better.”
More laughter.
I glance down at her.
She’s smiling.
“So,” I say, forcing my attention back outward, “like I said, we know most of you already heard. But we wanted to stand up here and say it ourselves. Maybe absorb some of the wisdom and good luck from my grandparents.”
I gesture loosely toward Pops and Mimz.
A few awws from the crowd.
Pops snorts. Mimz beams.
“Fifty-something years,” I go on. “That’s… not nothing. That’s showing up. Every day. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
My fingers flex at Gracie’s side.
She shifts closer.
“And if we can manage even half of that…” I trail off, then shake my head with a small grin. “Hell, we’ll be doing alright.”
“Anyway, I guess that’s all I’ve got to say.”
“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.”
The chant starts from somewhere in the back tables. But it grows louder as the rest of the crowd joins in. “Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.”
I turn and face my wife, cup her face, and then kiss her.
Of course, my intention is to keep the kiss family-friendly since we are in public, but that first brush of Gracie’s sweet lips and I’m a damn goner.
Her hands grip the front of my shirt and her mouth parts.
Our tongues have barely touched when someone yells, “Get a room!”