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He held up his hands. “I have no control.”
While I was distracted with giving Calla and Nathan my disappointed-mom look, the boys darted over to the basketball area and did a poor job of acting like they weren’t watching my every move. It was hard not to smile. They were so cute.
To hide my joy—it might be fun to torture them a while longer; make them wonder how much trouble they were in—I looked back down at the paper. It was hard to hide the giggles that each ticked-off box elicited.
Sign mom and dad up for the spring festival (get ms. kim to help).
Let air out of dad’s tire.
I snorted at the tiny note to the side that said harder than it looked on youtube.
Ask them both how they met.
There was an asterisk there, and beside it, one of the boys had scrawled Dad clearly still loves Mom, which made my cheeks flame and my heart tumble.
The list included every mischievous act that they’d pulled on us to bring us together. It included things like go missing and tell Dad that Mom has a guy coming over. I wasn’t sure whether I was proud or irritated. Though I supposed I was a little of both. In the best way possible.
They were so much like their dad. Hard-working, determined, sometimes a little over-the-top. But hey, I loved that about him.
I sniffed away the tears that were once again gathering, knowing that Liam’s whole family was watching us like this was a live-action romantic comedy playing in front of them. Calla, especially.
“I’m trying to decide whether we should ground them or thank them.” I waved the paper in front of Liam.
With a laugh, he took it from my hand and wrapped his arms around me. “Thank them,” he whispered in my ear. He kissed me once more, a gentle press to my lips. “Definitely thank them.”
Six months later
Vegas weddings were exactly how I’d always pictured them.
Cheesy white chapel with pink hearts and flowers tossed everywhere. This one in particular happened to be open twenty-four seven. Portraits of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe lined the hall leading to the chapel, and the place even had a drive-thru for couples who wanted an extra speedy wedding.
It was absolutely perfect.
Originally, I’d wanted to ask Marigold to marry me at the spring festival as a part of my “grand gesture.” But then reality sank in, and I realized two things.
First, the school spring carnival was one of the least romantic settings I could imagine for a proposal.
Second, although I still had our rings tucked safely in a fire-safe lockbox, her diamond was…kind of small. Okay, it was abysmal. We were young and broke when I proposed the first time, but I’d sworn I’d get her a new one someday.
So the day after the spring festival, while Marigold and the boys made breakfast, I made an excuse about running an errand. With a goodbye kiss, I went to get that woman the ring she deserved, a rock so heavy it would make her left wrist hurt as much as her right when she’d fallen out of that tree. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but I definitely did not go cheap this time. I needed a ring that would represent forever, because that’s all we could be. There was no other option.
About a month later, I gathered the boys and told them the plan. Since we’d won the spring festival—by a landslide, in my mind—we already had one part down. We’d all go to Hershey Park together, and after, we’d head home for a picnic. It was something we did often because Marigold’s new favorite place was our back porch. She said it was her own version of heaven on earth, which felt like pride blowing up straight in my chest. With the boys standing behind me, holding signs that said Marry and Me…again?, I’d pull out the ring and wax poetic about love and forever and second chances. It was going to be incredible.
But because the universe has a twisted sense of humor, it rained that day. Unable to take the boys to Hershey Park, Marigold and I had agreed to surprise them with a carload full of chocolate. Except when we got home, instead of heading in with our goods, Marigold wandered toward the backyard, where dozens of puddles were forming. She peeked over her shoulder, flashing that smile that I’d loved for most of my life, and took off. Laughing and wearing a bright smile that split her face, she jumped from puddle to puddle, kicking water at me. Then she bounded over and yanked on my arm, forcing me to join in with her. The ring had been in my pocket all day while I stewed over how to propose, but in that moment, I knew. So I took a deep breath and fell on one knee in a muddy puddle right in front of her. I kissed her in the rain and slipped the ring onto her finger as tears streamed down her face. She said yes without a moment of hesitation, and we never looked back.
The classic “Bridal Chorus” played over the speakers, and our families stood and faced the doors where my bride, again, would appear and begin her journey down the aisle to me.
I straightened my jacket and ran a hand through my hair, willing my heart to settle. This was it, the next trip to forever.
“Psst. Dad.” In the front row, Miles and Dallas were giving me thumbs-ups and grinning.
I smiled back and nodded, warmth unfurling inside me. It was time for us to be a family again.
The doors opened, and a choir of oohs and ahhs filled the room, but in the next instant, the world fell away.
My breath caught when Marigold appeared. Excitement raced up my spine and into my veins at the sight. She was resplendent in a flowing white gown as she made her way down the aisle, escorted by her father. This time, instead of shooting daggers at me the whole way, he was beaming like a proud dad.
Marigold’s floor-length dress, with lace trim and a slit up to her thigh, had me wondering how quickly we could wrap this ceremony up so we could be alone again. Her hair was done in soft waves around her shoulders, and the veil that cascaded gently down her back and framed her like a halo made her look like an angel.
