Epilogue
Blair
Ten Years Later
I’d cried happy tears as I watched Sean marry his gorgeous bride. He was the first of my children to get married, and it seemed to me that he was awfully young. But the truth was he was six years older than I’d been when I married Scott.
Scott and I held hands through the wedding, and I leaned into him.
He’d always been a strong man physically, but he’d become my emotional rock through the years.
We’d had trying times; every marriage does.
But they were tiny blips when compared with the last decade of true happiness.
We’d made the most of our second chance, and I thanked God every day that we’d found a way to reach each other, know each other, and become the couple we were always meant to be.
I hoped the same for all my children. Though, ideally, it would be from the start and not fifteen years into the marriage. But, hey, every love story is different. I, of all people, knew that well.
I felt too young to be mother of the groom, but Gam had always said she still felt like a twenty- or thirty-year-old on the inside.
It was when she looked in the mirror that she saw her true age.
She had been right, but I hadn’t listened.
When you’re young, you just can’t imagine it ever really happening to you.
I glanced over at her, so thankful that she was still with us. She was elderly, but still feisty as hell. She caught my eye and winked. I grinned back.
After the wedding was over, we all drove en masse to the reception venue. It was a new place in Halliwell, where Sean’s bride Jenny was from.
And it was gorgeous. Jenny’s parents were well-to-do, as were we, thanks in large part to the success of my cookie business.
That Cookie Lady had become semi-famous nationally.
I shipped my cookies all over the US and around the world.
Scott had long since let Dr. Marvel buy him out of the dental practice.
I’d needed all the help I could get at the bakery.
All of the kids had worked there after school and still did on occasion.
Sammy, who was sixteen now and the only child of ours still at home, was the only one who was truly interested in it.
He’d told me when he was seven that he wanted to go to culinary school and work with me at the bakery when he grew up.
I’d taken it lightly, knowing that his plans would likely change dozens of times before he settled on his true calling.
But he hadn’t veered at all from that plan.
Not even briefly. We’d already toured the Culinary Institute of America in New York and Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.
He never tired of working on new recipes, new flavors, and new designs for our baked goods.
While cookies might be my specialty, his was…
everything else. He’d insisted on making a croquembouche for our main Christmas dessert the previous year, usurping my annual Christmas cookie extravaganza.
It had been flawless, and my belief in his skills just grew and grew. He was going to be famous someday; I felt it in my bones.
Then again, he wouldn’t be the only Hastings child to win fame and fortune. Sophia had become a sensation on Broadway a few years ago and was still going strong.
Then there was Selene. My girl was incredible.
She’d gone to college on a full ride for volleyball.
Then she’d been in the Olympics… and won gold.
She’d gone twice now, once as a team player and once for beach volleyball.
She’d medaled both times and showed no signs of slowing down.
There was already talk of her becoming the head coach for the US National Team one day.
We’d just have to see. She was also beautiful, and that had led to swimsuit, makeup, and haircare endorsements as well as a major athleticwear deal.
She seemed to be too busy to settle down, dating a guy here and there.
But she was still best friends with Carrie’s son Theo, and the two of us held out hope there might be something more than friendship in their future. We’d just have to see.
Sutton and the twins had settled into more ‘normal’ jobs.
Sutton was a graphic designer, and I was her biggest client.
She’d worked for me for free for a while when she was in high school, but now she earned every bit of the nice salary I paid her annually.
Spencer was in medical school with plans to become a psychiatrist. And Sean was a firefighter.
Much to my delight and dismay, he’d been featured in several firemen calendars, some of them very risqué.
This had led to him dating… a lot. But once he’d seen Jenny? He’d become a one-woman man.
I was proud of all my children and so happy to celebrate Sean and Jenny’s big day. I’d designed a special cookie for their wedding favors and had been beyond honored that they’d asked me.
Not long after we’d arrived at the reception, the deejay had started playing smooth jazz for background atmosphere while everyone ate. As the night went on, I knew our big surprise was drawing closer.
Sutton hurried over to me. “Are y’all ready?”
Scott sighed, but grinned good naturedly. “Yes. Though I still don’t know why everyone wanted me involved in this. This is your mom’s kind of thing, not mine.”
“Ugh. Get over yourself, Dad. We’ve been through this way too many times.”
He held his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”
“Good. I’m going to make sure everyone else is good to go.”
We watched her dart around to all the children.
Then we waited for our cue. Part of me was shocked we were doing this; the other part of me was thrilled that my children wanted to.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for something special. First, we’re going to have our bride, Jenny, dance with her father.”
Everyone clapped as they danced to a touching song that had tears welling in my eyes before they were done.
Then, we were on.
“Let’s have Sean, our groom, up here to dance with his mother before the bride and groom dance to their special song.”
Sean came over and held out his hand as the first notes of “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong played over the speakers.
We danced together for most of the song before the deejay changed the tune.
As “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire came on, the rest of my children plus Scott and Gam joined us on the dance floor.
Everyone stared at us in shock as we began a choreographed dance together.
Carrie and Sadie had done the choreography, so we knew it was really good.
People started really getting into it, whooping, hollering, and clapping in time with the music.
It got even better when Jenny and her parents joined us halfway through the song.
The reception attendees went wild, and I saw several holding up cell phones to record the dance.
It was a moment of total happiness. I looked around at my family and knew I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people in my life.
It was hilarious and fun and captured us perfectly. Later, people would say it was the most memorable part of the entire reception.
It was for me, too, and I’d loved every second of it.
The night wore on, and people were drinking too much, eating too much, and basically having the time of their lives. It was perfect.
“I don’t know how we’re going to top that at any of the other kids’ weddings,” I leaned over and whispered to Scott.
He smirked. “We don’t have to. We just do whatever each child wants, and it will all be awesome.”
He was right. Whatever worked for each of their personalities would be just right, and if they wanted a big dance number or something way more traditional, we’d be there for them.
“I saw an old coat check room that’s not being used anymore. It’s pretty remote.” Scott raised an eyebrow suggestively.
I gasped, scandalized but laughing. “We can’t! My God, what if we got caught having sex at our son’s wedding reception?”
“I think most people would say, ‘good for them.’”
He was probably right. But Sean and his new bride? Her parents? The embarrassment would be epic.
Scott pulled me to him. “You look sinful in that dress, baby. Let’s not waste the opportunity. Besides,” he said when he saw that I was about to protest, “we haven’t been caught yet. What makes you think we will be now?”
I looked at him doubtfully and bit my lip. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like a very mother of the groom thing to do.”
“But I want to do the mother of the groom,” Scott said, chuckling darkly and pulling me along after him.
“As long as it’s quick and nobody misses us.”
“I’ll take as long with you as I want,” he said gruffly. “Nobody’s going to rush me.”
“Um… I will. I don’t want to miss them cutting the cake or anything.”
“We won’t,” he said confidently. “We’re experts.”
And we ran off, hurrying through a corridor off the main event space. We held hands and laughed like we had when we were first married. But we were so much happier now.
I swear, with each year that passed, I loved him a little more. And I’d never had cause to doubt his love for me again. Not even close. For a marriage I’d thought was dead more than a couple of times, it had turned out to be one of the best parts of my life.
Scott had caused me a lot of pain over the years.
But it wasn’t entirely his fault. If I’d spoken up more, showed my true feelings, I could have avoided some of that pain.
Years of couples therapy had taught us how to improve our communication skills, and now I felt as if we were on the same wavelength.
I could’ve divorced him. I’d been ready to do it, even. But sometimes there’s a reason plans change. And if I’d divorced him? Then I wouldn’t have had the last ten years of happiness, and our children wouldn’t have, either.
Looking back, I’d do it all again. It’s like the Garth Brooks song, “The Dance.” I love the line from the main chorus that goes, “Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.”
It’s true. If I’d left him, I could have ended the pain caused by how he hurt me. But then I never would’ve gotten to where we were now.
And where we were now? Well. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
THE END