by H. L. Logan
“Stop!” Gretchen said. “I’m dizzy!”
My mom put her down, laughing. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick on your moms’ wedding day. Why don’t you find a nice book to read until the ceremony starts?”
Gretchen was constantly reading. I assumed she’d picked up the habit from always seeing both of us with our noses in books. To my utter joy, she was already reading at a third-grade level. She hadn’t touched a book with a picture in it since she was three. Jaz liked to sneak time with the kids’ books when she wasn’t around. The familiar words comforted her—but if Gretchen caught her, she’d laugh at her.
Unlike either of her moms, she enjoyed writing little stories too. I intended to encourage her to keep doing so as she grew older. I had a secret hope that she’d grow up to be an author of children’s books, or maybe of lesbian romance novels.
At the moment, her face went solemn at the mention of Jaz. “Where’s Mama?”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ll find her.”
Tradition be damned. We were two women getting married—that was already flouting tradition.
I searched through every nook and cranny of the large hall we’d rented. Every two seconds, I’d get stopped by some well-wisher who shouldn’t even have been back there. With all of our academic connections, the parents we set up play dates with, and assorted other friends and family members, the audience for our nuptials had turned out to be well over two hundred.
Seeing Jaz’s sisters deep in conversation, I waved at them. They both looked nice in their formal gowns, but they either hadn’t been able to find a date or hadn’t bothered, and they looked a bit lonely. “Hey,” I said. “I’m looking for Jaz.”
“I haven’t seen her,” Stephanie said.
“Maybe she’s still in the bathroom,” Gillian said. “I think she was feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
Uh-oh. I spun around and raced toward the restroom. As Gillian had said, Jaz was in front of the sink, splashing water over her wrists.
“Hey, Mommay.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind.
“Hey, Mombee.”
She dried her hands. In her simple white dress, she was ravishing. The make-up artist had done a great job bringing out her natural beauty. Even after all this time, the lines and contours of her face were as hypnotizing as ever. Her looks had only gotten better with age, and I only hoped she felt the same about mine.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing’s wrong.” She rolled her shoulders back. “I’m just a little nervous. I mean, I’m about to marry this woman, this Dr. Faye Erwin. You’ve probably never heard of her.”
“Sounds like a piece of work,” I said.
She smiled weakly. “Completely. She’s super ugly, not smart at all, total jerk… all-around wrong for me.”
I kissed the back of her neck. “Then why are you so nervous?” God, tell me she’s not getting cold feet. I won’t be able to live a day without her if she leaves me now.
“I have no idea. Would you believe I’ve already adopted a kid with this chick? And that we’ve been happily raising her together for the past five years?”
“That’s probably a bigger commitment than getting married.”
“Oh, Faye! I mean… oh, stranger I’ve never met before.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “It’s not the commitment that’s the problem. I want nothing more than to be committed to this woman, totally and completely. I love her more than I ever thought possible. I’m just in shock—I can’t believe this is happening. It’s absolutely surreal.”
That eased my tension a little. “It’s real,” I whispered.
She turned to hold me. “You’d think five years would be long enough for me to get accustomed to the idea of marrying the Dr. Faye Erwin… but now that it’s actually happening, it’s like I’m living in a dream.”
“Well, this might come as a surprise, but I happen to be getting married today, too.” Jaz faked shock. “I’m getting hitched to this amazing, intelligent, fucking gorgeous woman named Jaz Neeson—soon to be Dr. Jaz Neeson. It’s a little stressful, too.”
“Hmm.” Jaz looped her arms around my neck. “Do you think your bride would have an issue if I were to kiss you right now?”
“Why don’t you try it and find out?”
Her lips found mine, and everything else disappeared—the hall, the crowds waiting outside, even our whole history of meeting each other and fighting for Gretchen. All I knew in that moment was that I was there, now, kissing and holding the woman I loved.
When we pulled apart, Jaz’s lips were swollen, her eyes filled with adoration. She pressed against me in a way that made me wish we could skip the ceremony and go straight to being alone.
“Come on,” I told her. “Let’s go walk down that aisle.”
Backmatter
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Want more? Check out my other F/F novels:
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