EPILOGUE
Declan
“Has the officiant arrived?” I ask my brothers. We’re huddled in our father’s bedroom, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
“Officiant?” Special K asks. “Shouldn’t you be saying that with an English accent?”
Cal slaps Special K on the back of his head. “If Declan wants to speak in Klingon on his big day, then that’s what he’ll do.”
“It’s not actually my big day,” I correct him. “I experienced my big day in Vegas when I was blackout drunk.”
“As one does,” Cal says, plopping down on the bed.
“Would everyone calm down?” Dad demands. “I’m the one who should be nervous. I’m in charge of the ribs and burgers.”
This is a wedding designed exactly to Summer’s specifications. It’s only family and ranch hands. No dresses or fancy clothes, and the food is strictly barbecue, just like any Sunday afternoon on Yosemite Ranch.
Dad’s wearing one of his aprons. This one says, “Natural Born Griller.”
“You’ll be fine, Dad,” Finn says. “Take a deep breath. How many pounds of ribs do we have on hand?”
“One hundred twenty-five. You can’t have too many ribs.”
Silently, I’m relieved to hear it, since our officiant has a large security team, and I’ve been warned that they can eat. “The wisdom of this man,” I joke, and my father slaps me upside the back of my head.
“There’s a lot of head-slapping going on today,” Evander says, adjusting his vest. He’s the only person dressed up, because he’s always the only person dressed up. Dad smacks him on the head, too. Evander fixes his hair.
“This is my favorite wedding so far,” Special K says. “I get to wear my work boots, and there’s no music.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I tell him. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed.”
“Ugh,” he moans.
“Hey, you’re next,” Finn tells him. “You’ll find a girl who wants a big wedding, and you’ll have to wear a tux with tails.”
He shakes his head. “First off, I’m not a pussy, so no tux. Second off, no wedding. And third off, I like my girls like I like my burgers… hot, juicy, fast, and several at a time.”
“That’s more than I’ve heard you say in two years,” Cal says.
“Finn must have hit a nerve,” I say.
“Time!” Dad yells, looking at his watch. “I have to get the ribs going and you boys need to get your asses downstairs. You don’t want Summer to walk out before you’re in place, Declan.”
We hop to, running down the stairs like a stampede. When we reach the living room, my brothers head for the back deck. Phyllis yanks me to the side.
“Your surprise is here. It’s been a helluva trick trying to keep it a surprise. I have to tell you that I’m a little on edge right now. It’s all I can do not to run around screaming.”
“Get ahold of yourself, Phyllis. But thank you, because that’s the reaction I want from Summer, too.”
“Oh, you’ll get it, no doubt about it. Anyway, your surprise is in the kitchen with her assistants. They’re eating coffee cake and the leftover cinnamon rolls, but you need to get this show on the road before I run out of baked goods.”
“Got it. Can you herd everyone to the back?” I ask her. “They listen to you.”
“Absolutely.”
Everyone assembles. Dad is manning the barbecue and everyone else is standing with a beer in their hands. All told—with the ranch hands, Phoebe and her mom and two of her brothers, and Phyllis’s son from her first marriage and his family—we’re close to forty people.
Summer didn’t want anything as formal as best men or bridesmaids, but she wanted all the people she loves around her, and she specifically asked for Special K to give her away and be the ring bearer while he was at it. He seemed puzzled when she made the requests.
“Why would you want that?” he asked her.
“Because I love you, dipshit,” she said, smacking him on the back of the head.
I take a deep breath and get into position under the eucalyptus tree, where we’ve constructed a makeshift pergola.
I see the officiant peek her blond head out the sliding door and give me a wink.
I give her a thumbs up and watch her slip her requested accessory into place.
Her security team is scanning the ranch, on the lookout for threats, though I can’t imagine what they’re worried about out here unless it’s bobcats and brown bears.
Summer appears from around the side of the house.
In one hand she clutches a few wild daisies.
With the other she drags a reluctant Special K behind her.
She walks toward me in her jeans, boots, and a white cotton peasant blouse.
Her face glows and her smile is bright. Her long, thick hair shines in the light of this April afternoon.
She comes to stand by my side, and I slip my arm around her waist and lay a kiss on her.
“Holy shitballs!” Jasmine screams. “Is that… is she… it’s Beyoncé!”
Summer looks up at me and shakes her head with irritation. “Are you kidding me right now, Declan? We’ve already done the Beyoncé thing.” She shouts over her shoulder. “Thanks for coming but it’s not gonna happen! Feel free to stay for the barbecue, though!”
I hear a lot of gasping and confused whispers as our officiant makes her way down the deck’s back steps. She clicks along the flagstone walk on extremely high heels, making her way to our informal altar, a cordless microphone dangling from her elegant hand.
Victoria lets go with a high-pitched squeak. Phoebe tells Evander that she’s going to pass out. Finn lectures Jasmine about not using foul language.
“But, Daaaaaad! Can’t you see it’s Beee-yon-saaaay?”
I chuckle to myself. Summer looks like she’s about ready to reach up and twist my nose right off my face. She’s kept her back turned to all the commotion, and I have to admire her refusal to play along.
But then there’s a swish of fabric. A hint of some seriously expensive perfume wafts on the breeze. And our majestic special guest takes her position before us, sparkling gold lame and shimmering chiffon from head to toe.
And wearing the mask, just as I’d requested.
Summer peers up at our officiant, trying to piece it together. Then Beyoncé removes the face mask and hands it to one of her security detail.
Summer’s face collapses in shock. Her eyes pop wide, and her lips part. The daisies fall to the flagstone. I’ve never seen her like this—completely unable to form words.
No matter how much this appearance has set me back, it’s worth every damn penny.
“You ready, sweetie?” Beyoncé bestows her superstar smile upon my trembling wife. She reaches out for Summer’s hand and gives it a squeeze.
“You’re real,” Summer whispers. “I mean, you’re her. The actual Beyoncé.”
“That’s me, honey,” she says. “Now, you ready to put a ring on it? Because I’ve got to be on stage at the Sphere in two hours. Oh! Hold on.” Beyoncé leans in to listen to something being whispered by one of her bodyguards.
“Is there any chance we can get the ribs to go?”
“Of course!” Summer says.
“Hit it!” I call to Aunt Phyllis. She powers on the soundboard, and the concert-worthy speakers I set up earlier come to life.
Beyoncé raises her mic, says, “Bring the beat in!” and begins to serenade us with the upbeat, joyous “Love on Top.” Within seconds, everyone is dancing.
I spin with Summer in my arms, and she pulls me down to whisper in my ear.
“Thank you, Declan,” she says. “I love you.”
“Thank you, Summer,” I tell her. “I love you. You’ve never looked more beautiful to me than right this moment.”
“We’re really getting married by Beyoncé, aren’t we?”
“We sure are.” I twirl her under my arm, and her hair goes flying in a halo all around her.
The look of pure delight on her face is all I could have ever asked for, the greatest gift I’ve ever received.
And in that moment, I feel it down in my bones—all the years of joy and good shit that’s waiting for us.
The hootin’ and hollerin’ escalates as the song rocks on, and when Beyoncé wraps up her short performance, everyone cheers, whistles, stomps, and screams their approval. Jasmine is crying her eyes out and jumping up and down.
“How about those vows? Y’all ready?”
Everything goes quiet. “I’ll start,” Summer says, her eyes flashing, and her cheeks flushed. She holds out her hand and Special K gives her my ring.
“Declan, thank you for sticking by me, for loving me. I promise to be your best friend for the rest of our lives, through the easy and the rough. I’ll be your copilot, and I’ll love you always, with everything I am.
” She slides the simple platinum band on my ring finger.
“Also, I promise to never, ever cook for you.”
I’m tearing up, but I don’t care. Who could blame me? I’m married to my favorite person on earth, who is whole and healthy and smiling. We’re going to have a baby. Beyoncé has just blessed our union with her official song of approval.
And Summer promised to never cook for me.
Now it’s my turn. I take her hands in mine.
“My sweetest Summer, I promise to be your best friend always. I promise to do whatever it takes to keep you smiling. Summer MacLaine, I’ll forever remain your right-hand man, your lover, and your champion. I’m looking forward to the wild ride.”
I hold out my hand and Special K plops Summer’s ring into my palm. I slide the simple platinum band on her finger.
Her grin is wide and bright. “It has been pretty wild, hasn’t it?”
“And we’re only getting started!” I offer her my left fist. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she says, tapping her left fist to mine. Our wedding rings clink together.
“But,” I say. “About the copilot thing…”
THE End
Continue to read the first two chapters of Special K and Frankie story, THE BILLIONAIRE who SAVED MY CAT FROM THE MAFIA!