by Eva LeNoir
“That’s what I thought you said. Son, do you know what you’re asking me to do? I mean, there’s the meal but there’s also the reception with drinks and little appetizers and then the dessert. Oh my god, the cake. How am I supposed to make all that in two days? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” That was the second time in the last few minutes that my sanity was called into question but I didn’t dare interrupt; her tirade was all show, anyway. She lived for moments like these, her being indispensable to us, needed on a motherly level she only experienced through foster care.
“I can hire a crew to do all the cooking, Millie, I just wanted to ask you, first,” I waited two seconds before her indignation rang through the line.
“Shut your pretty-boy mouth! A crew. What kind of spoiled brat nonsense is that?” After that, I just let her pretty much plan the entire day within mere minutes.
Jaidyn was horrified that I would manipulate Millie like that but what she didn’t realize was that if I hadn’t called her first, she would have disowned me.
“Well, I’m going down there and helping her. Maybe I’ll make my own cake,” my little bird announced a few minutes after I hung up with Millie.
She was cute, thinking my mother would let her lift a finger in her kitchen. Justin was different, she was teaching him, and the outcome was all about trial and error. This? It was a wedding and she was not going to be taking chances.
But did Jaidyn heed my warning?
No, of course not.
After spending time with her father, reading a few chapters of his new book, ‘Inside the O’Briens’, Jaidyn explained our new plans, kissed her father on the forehead where she surely checked to see if he was hot, then headed for her bedroom to get her things ready.
Before we left, there was something I needed to do.
“Robert, may I come in?”
With a nod and pat on his medicalized bed, his normal one had become too dangerous with the tossing and turning he was beginning to experience more frequently, I sat next to him and sighed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for Jaidyn’s hand before I proposed. It was sudden and really not thought out,” I almost regretted my impulsive action but that only lasted a fragment of a second.
“N-never be s-sorry,” he started, paused, chomped down on his teeth and started back up again. I gave him the time he needed, his speech not an easy thing for him. “Love makes you do crazy things, that’s how I know you’ll do right by my little girl,” he said, stuttering on every other word. “That’s how I know I can go, and you’ll be there to take care of her,” tears were slowly falling from the corner of his eyes and falling onto the pillow. I understood his message and he needed to know that I would never leave her if life got rough. No matter the outcome on Friday, she would be mine, forever.
“I promise you; I will cherish every second with her. I will love her with every cell in my body.” Robert nodded, knowing I spoke the truth, then took my hand in his and gave it an affectionate squeeze just like he’d always done with Jaidyn.
“You have my blessing, son.”
I gave him a squeeze of my own and told him to get some sleep before I left him to his audio book.
I crossed paths with Caroline who gave me an approving nod, probably having heard my conversation with Robert, then grinned, “You’re as single-minded as Jaidyn. It’s going to be an interesting marriage, you know that, right?”
“I have no doubts, and frankly, I can’t wait.”
“Just so you know, everything is set for Robert’s medical euthanasia, the documents were already signed when he was consistently lucid but these last two weeks, we’ve finalized the date and the procedure. It’s going to happen here, in his bedroom and it’ll be two weeks from now.” She glanced at Robert who was looking right back at her, love shining in his eyes. He couldn’t hear her because he was wearing his headphones, but I was sure he knew what she was saying. The sorrow was written all over her face.
“Please make sure you’re her rock. She’s strong, Marlon. She really is but we all need someone to lean on before we reach our breaking point.”
“I promise,” was all I said.
Chapter 62
Marlon
Thursday arrived at the snap of a finger. One moment we were driving up from San Diego, the next there I was, waiting on the porch for the love of my life to walk down the stairs. We had opted for simple, no suits, no elaborate decorations.
The guys had taken off work for the day to help Millie and Jaidyn with the preparations; moving the table to accommodate the extra plates, moving the couch so she and her dad would head for the porch, and generally being the errand boys when Millie realized we didn’t have all the simple and necessary ingredients for pulling off a wedding meal.
“Have I taught you nothing about being prepared?” she’d called out, and we just shrugged because, honestly, no one was expecting a wedding in this house. Least of all, me.
The minutes it took for Jaidyn to appear at the foot of the stairs were some of the longest of my life. But when she finally stood there, mere feet away from me, the wind was knocked out of me. We’d all agreed to dress in jeans and a white button-down shirt, mine with a blue rose in the front pocket. Millie, Emma and Caroline wore blue dresses and I had congratulated my best friend on finding one in her closet. That comment had earned me a slap in the back of my head.
But Jaidyn looked like a veritable angel. Her dress was simple in its elegance, the material shiny, like silk. Hugging every one of her luscious curves, it ran all the way to her bare feet, the long sleeves fanning out at the wrist. In her hands was a bouquet of blue and white roses, the only flash of color on her.
But her smile.
Her smile was everything a man needed to see on his wedding day. That certainty in her eyes, that fortitude that the rest of his days would be a series of ups and downs but that they would enjoy every minute of them.
Justin put on the music for the wedding march and then ran outside to join us.
I glanced at the honorable Judge Carpenter, a retired judge and old friend of Robert’s, and he nodded that everything was good to go. We’d been lucky to get a marriage licence the day before.
Robert had opted to walk; it was important for him. Thankfully, the walk over to me was short and his wheelchair was waiting for him a few feet away. Caroline and Jaidyn had massaged his legs with CBD oil to help him with the trembling and the pain.
My gaze, though, was on Jaidyn. My little bird. The love of my life.
Her golden ringlets dancing around her neck, the rest of her hair up in an elaborate bun with blue roses stuck inside. Her eyes screaming happiness, her mouth set in a gorgeous smile.
She was the most beautiful woman I knew. And in no time at all, she would be forever mine.
When they reached me, Robert held out his trembling hand for me to shake, entrusting me with the life of his little girl, as he liked to call her. But she was all woman to me, and we would take care of each other. I helped him into his chair and then focused on my bride.
We turned to face each other, the beach behind the judge standing beside us. The sun was out, just above the horizon and quickly making its descent, the cool breeze subdued by the heat lamps on the porch. The lighting hit Jaidyn like a golden halo making her seem surreal. Ethereal, even.
“You are magnificent,” I whispered, my face hurting from my unwavering grin.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Brooks,” she teased, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and fuck her while repeating her new name. Jaidyn Brooks.
Clearing his throat, the judge began his speech pulling me out of the wedding porn film going through my mind.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Jaidyn Ella Hughes and Marlon Brooks in marriage. Though their time together has been short, it has indeed been meaningful.”
During the reading, where Judge Carpenter explained the important of a marriage and everything it enta
ils, I zoned out, focusing only on my little bird.
On the dip of her neck as it melted into her collarbone, the satin feel of her skin, the glow of her aura as she squeezed my hands with excitement.
“May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home filled with joy and understanding.”
“Do you, Marlon Brooks, take Jaidyn Ella Hughes to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"
“I do.”
“Do you, Jaidyn Ella Hughes, take Marlon Brooks, to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"
“I do,” she said, and my heart swelled up with pride and honor.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Millie raise her hand to her eyes, the sure sound of sniffling following closely.
As I slipped the white gold ring surrounded by diamonds and sapphires on Jaidyn’s ring finger, I felt a comforting warmth settling in my chest. A feeling of completeness, as though until this very moment, there was a piece of myself I didn’t even know was missing. Jaidyn bit her lip and a tear fell straight from her eye and landed on the seam of her mouth. I wanted to kiss it away, taste the salt of her happiness. But dammit, it wasn’t that time yet.
But when Jaidyn slid the matching ring on my finger, sans the stones, I finally felt at home. My new home. My real home.
My forever home.
“You may kiss the bride,” Judge Carpenter finally said, and holy fuck, it was about time. How did couples make it through an entire church ceremony? I could barely keep my hands-off Jaidyn as it was.
“Finally,” I whispered, placing my hands at the base of her jaw, looking into her brilliant hazel eyes, and promising my life to her with a single kiss.
Our families hooted and cheered as I devoured my wife’s mouth with zero shame. When I finally pulled away, and only because Robert had said something about getting a room, I ran my eyes over my little bird’s face.
My blushing bride.
The story of my life.
The prologue to my future.
Chapter 63
Jaidyn
I’ve been Mrs. Jaidyn Hughes-Brooks for the last two weeks and it feels surreal. We both agreed that a hyphenated name was best for me, a physical keepsake in my father’s legacy. My name just as important as Marlon’s. Hell, he’d even suggested changing his own name to Hughes since my dad had been a better role model to him than his biological father ever had.
The day after our wedding was hard. It was a moment of reflection, a moment of weighing the important, the crucial parts of our existence.
When Dr. Moore sat us down, he first congratulated me on my wedding, then informed me that I wouldn’t be experiencing any of the Huntington symptoms. But that was false hope he gave us. My first instinct had been to cheer and grab Marlon’s awaiting hand, my tears falling from the weight of the test, of the results. But when I looked back up at Dr. Moore, I realized he wasn’t exuding the appropriate amount of joy. He wasn’t cheering with us. He was sombre and most importantly, there was a “but” in his announcement.
“I wish I had all good news, Jaidyn but I don’t. I’m going to try and break this down for you,” he said, intertwining his fingers and taking in a fortifying breath before continuing. “Huntington’s Disease is caused by the HTT gene that you inherit through a parent, in very rare cases, a child could have the gene that his parent did not. Very rare.” Dr. Moore was mostly looking at Marlon, I’d already researched and spoken with him about this multiple times. I just didn’t know where he was going with this.
“You see, one small portion of the HTT gene contains a particular DNA sequence known as a CAG trinucleotide repeat. Typically, this CAG segment is repeated ten to twenty-six times on that gene. Which means, if you are between those two numbers, you won’t experience the symptoms and won’t pass it on to your children. A CAG count between forty and fifty means you will be presenting symptoms. Your father, for example had a forty-four count. A count between twenty-seven and thirty-five means you won’t develop symptoms, but you are at risk for passing on the gene to your children.”
Marlon and I were quiet throughout the lecture, trying to anticipate the bad news. And before he could say it outright, I gasped, my hand going to my mouth, my tears gathering in my eyes because I knew. I just knew. So, I shook my head in denial.
No. No, no, no.
“Jaidyn, your count was twenty-nine. I’m sorry,” he said softly, and I could see that he was. His disappointment in bad luck was palpable.
More than for myself, I was devastated for Marlon. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to have lots of healthy children without the worry of passing down a terminal, degenerative disease. When I turned to see his face, I expected to see pain and sadness. Disappointment and regret.
“Hey,” Marlon said, placing his hand on the back of my head and forcing me to truly look at him. To see him. He was none of those things. He was smiling, eyes glazed from his unshed tears. “You’re healthy, little bird. We’ll be okay,” he wiped my tears with his thumb and brought his second hand to my face, effectively blocking out everything else. “It’s you and me, Jaybird. You and me. We can do whatever you want to do.” Marlon turned to Dr. Moor and asked, “What are the chances the gene is carried over to our children?”
Dr. Moore sighed, expecting this question judging by apologetic look on his face.
“We know that a CAG level of above forty is a fifty-fifty chance of passing it on. We also know that older men with the gene are more likely to pass it on than a young woman. However, when it comes to your case, Jaidyn, we know the chance is smaller, but we are unable to give you an exact percentage.” Taking his glasses off, he wiped them and shook his head. “I know it’s not the answer you’re looking for but it’s all I’ve got. I’m sorry.”
I omitted this information to my father when I gave him the results. I told him what he needed to hear to allow the guilt to be lifted from his mind. He hated playing a hand in my suffering. The idea that I would inevitably have to go through his pain was debilitating for him. I didn’t want to tell him that our family history was still in danger.
And technically, it wasn’t. There were other ways to grow a family and we would cross that bridge when the time came. We would adopt, we would foster, we would take example from Millie, and give love and a stable home to kids who had none of those things.
“Jaidyn,” I heard my mother’s soft voice as she knocked on door, “They’re waiting for you.”
I looked in the mirror, the clothes I was wearing seemed ridiculous. What did one wear to the assisted suicide of a parent? Everything felt superfluous. Did I dress nicely? Casually, just like any other day? Did I wear make-up that would inevitably be washed away by the onslaught of my tears?
I was procrastinating, I knew this. I wanted to wait hours and days. I wanted to wait years. I was promised another good year. Where did that go?
Intellectually, I understood my father’s desire to leave on his own terms. I did. I just couldn’t let him do it without a fight.
It was purely selfish. I wasn’t hoping he’d stay for his quality of life but for my need as a daughter to be with her dad.
“Little bird,” I shivered as Marlon’s breath caressed my neck, “Lean on me. Let me be your rock.”
Marlon wasn’t my rock. He was my boulder. He was the only reason I could get up in the morning and not feel as though the world were fading away from me.
“I can’t do it,” I whispered, shaking my head, watching him watch me in the mirror.
“I know. But you will because it’s your father’s wish,” he reminded me, simply.
My cheeks had become an incessant stream of tears and I’d ignored them, knowing that wiping them off would be futile.
By the time I reached my father
’s bedroom, my mother was there, holding Dad’s hand. Two physicians were present as per the California and law and Ralph Green, my father’s lawyer was also present.
I froze at the door. It was like a wake, but he was still alive. It was anything but real. Everyone was wearing black and I felt like an idiot in my purple dress.
“Maybe I should change,” I said, which was ridiculous.
I’d read somewhere that in a time of shock, the brain focuses on things that it can control. I supposed I was in shock and my brain was telling me to change because I could. What I couldn’t do was stop this procedure because it was my fathers last wish.
“Baby doll, come here,” my father faintly called out, reaching out his unstable hand. But I was nailed in place. If I walked over there, it would all begin. It would be my fault. I’d be the snowball that caused the avalanche.
“JaiJai,” he called again, and I couldn’t deny his need to see me. To hold my hand. My father needed me, and I would always be there for him.
When our hands met, he squeezed and smiled. Not the chorea. A real smile.
With his other hand, he shooed everyone out and they immediately understood. He needed a minute with his daughter.
“Sit,” he said with difficulty.
“Please, Daddy, please don’t do this. We can do clinical trials or maybe upgrade your CBD oils. Or,”
“Shhh,” he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it with all the love of a father, “I am so proud of you,” he said thickly, “but I need you to let me go and start your own life.” It took him ten times longer to say those words than it normally would and by the time he was finished, he was exhausted.
“I love you so much, Daddy. I need you to listen to me first, okay? There are things I need you to hear.” My dad nodded, my hand still at his mouth.
“You gave me the best life possible. You loved me unconditionally. I never, ever felt second place in your eyes. Never. You were the best father any child could dream of having and I promise you, I will live up to your example.”
By the time I was finished, we were both crying but it was cathartic.