22. Brooks Farm
Chapter 22
Brooks Farm
Lo
Returning home from Riley’s baby shower, I find Kolby on the porch, legs stretched long across the old wicker couch he claimed as his thinking spot the first week we moved in. He’s thumbing through one of Grandpa’s dusty maintenance binders, reading it like scripture. He looks up as I step onto the porch, that easy smile I’ll never stop getting butterflies over already forming.
I hold up the slightly crinkled piece of paper between two fingers.
“The list,” I say.
His brow quirks. “The list?”
“You know. The list. Of things we talked about back before we moved in. ”
“The one we made two weeks ago?” He grins and pats his thigh. “Bring it here.”
I sit sideways on his lap, one arm hooked around his neck, and smooth out the paper on his chest. “Garden should be checked.”
“You said you wanted sunflowers and tomatoes, and the rest, we’d do next year,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles over my knee. “Got both.”
“And snapdragons. For Blue.”
He nods once, eyes soft. “Who’s Blue?”
“The donkey I want to get.”
He looks at me like he’s not sure if I’m joking. Truth is, neither am I. I’m just feeling him out.
“Okay.”
I grin.
“Do donkeys eat snap dragons?” he asks.
I swing my feet and shrug. “We’ll see.”
He laughs as he looks at the list. “Grandpa Dan stays as long as he wants. You can check that off. He’s currently on the dock we just built, feet propped on a cooler, sipping tea and talking to Jane about our unborn baby, like she’s up there helping God put some finishing touches on him or her.”
“Would it freak you out if I said I’m sure she is?”
He shakes his head. “Nope,” He looks back at the list then the windchimes by the kitchen door. “They’re hung and tangle every time it storms.”
“And I love that.”
“Me, too.” He presses a kiss to my cheek and chuckles as he reads, “ Cook together on that old stove and don’t burn the place down .”
I make a check mark with my finger. “It was just smoke.”
“ Dance in the kitchen to whatever song plays .” Now he makes a check mark. “You cried.”
“Because it felt like everything I ever dreamed came true.”
“Did it?” he asks.
“Check, check, check, check.” I make a dozen check marks in the air.
“ Make our bed every morning .” He winks. “Check. We do that after we make it even messier.”
“ Build a life where we can breathe easy .” I look at him.
He replies, “Lo, I’ve never breathed easier.”
“We’ve made it through the list. Gotta add one more thing.” I pull a pen out of my hoodie pocket and place the paper on his chest as I write, “ Get married on the dock, ASAP . This bump is getting too big to hide, and I don’t want to hide it after pictures.”
I hold it up, and he reads it. “We have the place. Let me know when you have the time.”
“Mags comes home from that awful show in two weeks. Think we can have a welcome home/wedding right here?”
He takes the pen and writes a little heart on the paper where a check would go.
* * *
With two, new, full-time paid summer interns, along with Greer manning the new security system from the place she keeps asking to buy and the fact Riley and I can check in at any time through an app, I’ve taken the time off to get our home prepared and, yeah, to spend with my man before the season begins. Riley, too. She’s nesting like I’ve never seen, and Hudson, he’s far worse in the most beautiful way. We meet to check on the seasonal brews with Jackson, who hasn’t left town to disappear wherever it is he goes since the Vegas game.
Neither Kolby nor I want to hire out the work and walk away. We want to touch every part of it. Still, we do enlist a few local kids to help mow and mulch, a few more to stain the fencing and trim of the house. Seems every day one of them brings a friend who’s on the football team or a sibling they’re supposed to watch while their parent is working. And at the end of the day, we’re sharing a meal in the yard, tossing a football, or playing cornhole. We love it, but what makes it even better is that Grandpa is surrounded by young people, and they treat him with the respect of a man who has dedicated his life to caring for people deserves. He is more alive than I have seen him since before Grandma Jane got sick.
Hudson, Boone, and Skinner spend a lot of time helping Dad, Grandpa, Jackson, and Kolby expand the outdoor deck and put together the outdoor kitchen my future husband dreams of grilling on when we host family dinners here at Brooks Farm.
I run my hand over the curve of my belly—small, but no longer a secret. My tank top clings in a way it didn’t a few weeks ago, and when I catch my reflection in the glass of the French doors, I don’t hate it. I look settled. Soft in a way I haven’t let myself be in years.
Inside, Grandpa hums to himself while setting out mismatched silverware and placemats, each piece tugged from a box we found in the attic labeled “Jane’s Good Things.” Her photo albums line the sideboard now, each page a breadcrumb trail of the life that used to live in these walls. We’ve followed them like a map. We plan to rebuild her garden bed, one at a time.
When Kolby said we’d make this ours, I didn’t know he meant honor what was. I didn’t know he’d trim every overgrown branch like he was making room for air to breathe life into it again. I didn’t know he’d add a dock so perfectly measured and placed because he knew Mom and Dad exchanged their vows on one.
Strong hands grip my shoulders in the softest way, and the heat of his body presses against my back. “Are we still finding things we need to do?”
“Oh please.” I laugh. “You’re far worse than me.” I look over my shoulder. “In a good way.”
He presses his lips to mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe they convinced you to have a Mortal Kombat tourney the night before we say I do .”
I hear vehicles pulling up the drive, and he smiles.
“They didn’t, but the girl bosses insisted they needed me to leave.”
He kisses me again, grabs his duffle off the wicker couch, and walks toward his brand-new truck—a diesel, heavy duty because he’s “a farmer now” and needed it.
* * *
I don’t know whose idea it was to call this a “girl boss night,” but between Sydney fussing over me, Riley’s swollen ankles, Izzy’s phone tripod, and Maggie accidentally starting a small fire while trying to make s’mores on the stove, we are nothing short of a disaster with their matching bridesmaid pajamas and my bride-to-be ones.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Riley is horizontal on the couch, wearing a face mask and cradling her belly like it’s a Fabergé egg. “Someone bring me a cookie before I roll off this couch and break my water.”
Sydney snorts. “You’re not due for two more months. And I brought protein cookies.”
Maggie groans from the kitchen. “You brought sadness. These taste like betrayal and cardboard.”
“They have chia,” Syd offers, deadpan.
“Chia can choke,” she grumbles.
“Ladies.” I raise my glass of sparkling apple cider like its champagne. “We’re here to celebrate the final night of me not being a married woman. Let’s keep it classy.”
Izzy immediately hits play on the karaoke machine and starts howling a mashup of Beyoncé and Reba.
So much for classy.
* * *
While Sidney tries to clean up the paint I got on my nails today, Riley insists on giving me a “soothing” scalp massage.
“Are you nervous?” she asks
“No.”
“Excited?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to cry when you say I do ?” she asks, sounding like she may do so now.
“No.”
Sydney smirks. “She’s going to sob. Ugly cry. Full-on mascara streaks down her face. Kolby’s going to lose it. They’ll both cry, and we’ll all pretend we’re not crying while we film the whole thing.”
Izzy chimes in, “I’m posting it with the caption: He tackled her heart. ”
“Delete your account,” I say, throwing a pillow at her.
* * *
By the time midnight rolls around, Maggie is dramatically reliving the moment she wrestled a fake bear during Wilderness Warriors , Riley’s snoring softly on the couch surrounded by seven pillows and half a protein cookie, unable to choke the rest down, and Sydney and Izzy are doing what Iz calls “vibe check tarot” using old UNO cards.
“You pulled a Draw Four,” Syd tells me. “That means tomorrow’s gonna be wild.”
“I pulled a Reverse,” Izzy adds. “That means some bitch is gonna show up in white.”
I sigh, tuck my legs beneath me, and look around the room, exhausted.
These women, they’re chaos. They’re loud. Opinionated. Invasive. Absolutely unfiltered.
They are also mine.
“I love you guys,” I say, my voice a little wobbly.
Maggie throws an arm around me and puts me in check. “Ugh, don’t get emotional. If you start, I’ll start, and then we’ll all be puffy in the photos.”
Sydney raises her protein cookie like a toast. “To Lo, our girl boss bride. May your marriage be hotter than Kolby’s arms and longer than Maggie’s list of red flags.”
“To Lo!” they all echo, Riley lifts a hand.
I close my eyes, surrounded by pillows, an empty cookie box, and my girls.
Tomorrow is for vows. Tonight? Tonight’s for sisterhood and the kind of chaos I hope never goes way.
* * *
The old dinner bell that Kolby found and he and Grandpa brought back to life echoes through the afternoon air.
“Ready?” Dad asks, his hand warm over mine.
I nod, and then we step out of the house and into the golden afternoon light.
Of course, I spot him first. Kolby Grimes. My future, my everything, standing beside Mom and Grandpa Dan … and a donkey. A real one. With a blue ribbon tied around its neck and the most judgmental eyes I’ve ever seen on a four-legged animal.
I blink. “What the hell?—”
“His name’s Blue. The only other ass that I’ll share your heart with.”
“Think I could borrow him to carry my emotional baggage!” Skinner yells … maybe even slurs?
Jackson follows up with, “Or just someone slower than him on the O-line.”
Boone pops off with, “Is that your ring bearer?”
Riley laughs loud enough for everyone to hear. “God help us if it starts braying during the vows.”
CJ shouts, “If the donkey runs, that means she still has a chance to say no!”
Even Trucker Cohen can’t stop himself from commenting. “At least one of them is housebroken.”
I laugh so hard I have to pause halfway down the aisle.
Grandpa Dan just shakes his head. And Kolby? He just smiles, hands folded in front of him, looking at me like I’m every damn thing he’s ever wanted—same.
Dad kisses the side of my head. “He’s one of the good ones, Lauren.”
Kolby takes my hand and mouths, “ Stunning ,” and I reply, “ No, you .”
Pastor Josh starts immediately. “First, let me say what a joy it is to welcome you here today—to this land, to this moment, to the beginning of something sacred. We are gathered not just to witness vows, but to wrap them in community, in memory, in meaning.
“This place we’re standing on isn’t just beautiful—it’s hallowed ground, at least to me. Right over there, near the bend in the path by the water, is where I first told Rebecca I loved her. Lauren’s aunt. My wife. Now their neighbors.
“I have to tell you, watching this place come back to life over the last month has been like watching a story turn its own pages. Kolby and Lauren have cleared the brush, planted a garden, scrubbed and stained the porch rails, and I feel that even the wood can breathe again. They’ve brought laughter back to this house. Light. They’ve made it theirs by honoring what it was. And that, in its own quiet way, is love.
“So, today, as we stand by the water, under the same sky where Rebecca and I once stood and dreamed of forever, it feels right to begin again—with two people who know what it means to fight for love, to come home to it, and to let it change them in all the best ways. Lauren and Kolby have written their own vows. Let’s begin.”
“I never thought I’d fall into the kind of love I’ve witnessed my entire life.” I smile and silently laugh. “And especially to the man I met that was beautiful, but a brooding pain-in-the-ass right guard who walked into the Brewery, who glared at me like I’d offended his very soul, when all I did was exist.
“But I think I loved you then. In that way we sometimes love the things we don’t understand. The kind of love we feel in our bones before we’re ready to admit it.
“You saw me. Me . Not as the girl running around the Brewery or screaming from the stands. Not as the owner’s daughter. Not as the woman with a clipboard and too many rules. You saw me.
“And even when you were trying not to, even when we were sniping at each other like children, somewhere between the lists and the looks, I fell for you, slowly.
“You are not perfect. And neither am I. That’s what makes us real. I’ve seen the way you protect the people you love. I’ve seen the weight you carry, and the strength it takes to set it down. And I promise, before everyone here and everyone we’ve lost, that you will never carry anything, except maybe wood, alone.”
He swallows hard.
“I vow to stand beside you, laugh with you, fight with you, and build a home with you, one we will want to leave, but not without each other. Contrary to what is splashed on socials, I wasn’t picking my player. You were not on any list. You were always my number one, first round, first draft. And you always will be.”
“Sixty-eight plus one!” Izzy hoots.
Kolby clears his throat. “There was a time in my life when I believed love was something other people got. A peace I’d never find. Then you happened. You, with your sharp wit, and perfect braid, and those eyes.” He shakes his head as he looks so deep into them that I feel them touched.
“You told me what you needed without ever asking for it out loud. You made a home I didn’t know I was searching for. You chose me, even knowing all the ways I’ve been broken. And now? I vow to give you joy every chance I get. I vow to love the life we build, even when it’s loud, even when it’s messy, even when we’re running on three hours of sleep and two of them I lay awake, listening to you spew off things to add to a list.”
“Do not,” I huff.
He smiles and continues, “I vow to make this love a safe place—for you, for our future children, for anyone who walks through our front door and needs to feel what I feel when I look at you. You are home, Lo.”
I feel my eyes heat. Yep, I’m going to cry … dammit.
Josh clears his throat. “Well then. You’ve planted the seeds. You’ve spoken the truth. You’ve promised forever with words that came straight from your hearts.
“Lauren and Kolby, what you’ve just done is no small thing. It’s not just love that brought you here today. It’s trust. It’s loyalty. It’s knowing each other fully and choosing each other anyway. That’s the kind of love that lasts, that builds something better than perfection—it builds a life.
“And now, by the power vested in me—by the state, by this community, and by the grace of a love that’s been a long time coming—I now pronounce you husband and wife.
“Kolby, kiss your bride.”