A Wedding to Remember

by Joanna Sims

  “Look,” he said, only half joking, “after that assault you called a massage earlier, I am going to approach all of the activities you plan for us with caution.”

  * * *

  At the group dinner, they were seated next to another couple, two people they had met briefly on a walk along the path through the lush island jungle.

  “Hey!” Savannah smiled at the familiar faces, always quick to make a new friend. “We meet again!”

  The woman was tall, over six feet at least, slender, and undeniably beautiful; her features were subtle and balanced, her mouth full and colored a deep red—her skin was the color of light brown, and she wore her raven curls in a loose Afro which added a lovely frame to her pretty face.

  With a British accent, the woman greeted them as they joined her and her companion at the table.

  “I’m Ivory,” she said, introducing herself. “And this is my husband, Miguel.”

  After the introductions and ordering the food, Savannah started small talk with Ivory and found out that she was a model and a budding fashion designer.

  Ivory touched her husband’s shoulder. “My husband is my biggest supporter. He picks me up when my chin’s dragging on the ground.”

  “I’d love to see some of your designs,” Savannah said to the model. “I love fashion.”

  Ivory stood up and modeled the boldly patterned sundress. “This is one of mine.”

  Savannah’s eyes lit up. “My sister, Joy—she’s the tall one—would look amazing in that dress.”

  “Tell her to visit my website.” Ivory sat down and asked her husband, “Do you have any of my cards, love?”

  Miguel, a quiet man much like Bruce, pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. Savannah looked at the card before tucking it into her pocket.

  “Where are the two of you from?”

  “Montana,” Savannah told Ivory. “Bruce’s family owns a ranch outside of Bozeman.”

  “I’ve been to Montana,” the British model told them. “One of my best friends is from Montana.”

  “Small world...” Savannah interjected.

  “She’s an incredible painter. Maybe you’ve heard of her?” Ivory continued. “Jordan Brand? Well, Jordan Sterling now.”

  Savannah was rendered temporarily speechless, and she felt Bruce stiffen next to her. Their branch of the Brand family discussed the other Brand branches so infrequently that she often forgot that they existed.

  Not sure exactly how to handle this, Savannah decided to just speak their truth. “Jordan is actually our cousin...mine by marriage”

  “You’re joking!” Ivory’s brown-black eyes opened wider for a split second. “I just saw Jordan last week—she was just at our wedding!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The rest of the dinner was filled with small talk, but Savannah was actually glad when the dancers began to perform. After discovering Ivory’s connection to their estranged extended family, the rest of this meal felt a bit awkward and strained. In order to salvage the evening and keep Bruce at the table, Savannah quickly shifted the conversation away from the Bent Tree Ranch Brands, out of Helena, Montana, back to Ivory’s designing career.

  Now back at their villa, Savannah and Bruce both sank down into the hot tub with a bottle of champagne and assorted tropical fruits with melted chocolate for dipping.

  “I can’t believe that out of every island on the planet, we ended up on a Fijian island with a good friend of your cousin Jordan. How does that even happen?”

  Bruce dipped a piece of papaya in the chocolate and held it up for her to eat.

  “Hmm,” she said between chews. “So good.”

  Her husband popped a chocolate-covered star fruit into his mouth. “Beats the hell out of me. But when she called us the ‘bad Brands,’ I had a real hard time holding on to my table manners.”

  She moved her arms in the bubbling hot water. “I know. How did we become the bad Brands—if Jock’s brother hadn’t been so greedy after your grandpa died, we’d all probably still be a whole family, don’t you think?”

  Bruce poured a glass of champagne for her, but she shook her head.

  “No, thanks.”

  “You didn’t drink yesterday—you didn’t have wine with your dinner. What’s going on?”

  Savannah drifted over to him, a secretive smile on her face. “Do you remember how worried I was about getting my period while we were here?”

  He studied her face carefully. “Yes.”

  His wife stood up in the hot tub, water rolling down her breasts to her puckered nipples in the most tantalizing way.

  “Well—” she ran her hands over her stomach “—I missed my period.

  Now he was looking at her stomach—had he planted a baby inside of her?

  “I brought two early-detection pregnancy tests,” she told him. “If I am pregnant, we’ll know tomorrow before breakfast.”

  Bruce wanted so badly for his seed to take hold in his wife’s womb. Every time they made love, every time he climaxed, he prayed that this would be the moment when they made another baby together. And he knew that Savannah felt the same way; they had been having sex like hormonal teenagers on this trip. Whenever he wanted it, she wanted it, too; whenever she wanted it, he gave it to her.

  He put his empty champagne glass down, leaned his head down to lick the water from her nipples, his hand splayed across her stomach.

  “God, I pray you’re pregnant, Savannah.”

  His wife moved onto his lap, their slick bodies coming together so naturally. “I have prayed to God every day to give me your child, Bruce. I want another child with you so badly.”

  “We aren’t going to stop trying until it happens.” He dropped gentle kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. “I promise you that.”

  When they got too hot from the hot tub, they rinsed off with cold water in their shower, dried themselves, and then got into bed. Quietly, no words were needed, they began to make love again. Savannah rolled onto her stomach and then lifted up on to her knees, offering herself to him. Bruce leaned forward, massaging her back, her hips, and then reaching beneath her body to massage her breasts. He entered her from behind, loving the little gasp she made as he controlled the rhythm and the depth. Holding on to her curvy hips, he thrust forward; he knew the minute he touched her cervix because Savannah began to push back, moaning, writhing her hips, begging for him to come inside her. This was the shortest lovemaking session they had on their trip—it was so quiet, so quick, his climax so intense that it bordered on painful. Spent, he pulled his beloved wife into his arms, pulled the covers over their bodies. Somewhere deep inside, in a place that was as intangible as it was mysterious, Bruce felt that this was the night—this was the moment—that he had given Savannah another child.

  * * *

  They spent the last week in paradise trying to work their way through Savannah’s extensive checklist of activities. The morning that his wife had taken a pregnancy test, and it had come back negative, Savannah’s spirits slumped. Bruce had made it his mission to lift her spirits and to remind her that they had only been trying for a short time. And wouldn’t it be even more special if they could trace the moment of conception back to this amazing island?

  They spent the last day on their private beach, lounging, floating in the clear water and doing their best to soak in those last precious moments of their time in Fiji. That night, their last night, they packed up their belongings and then had a romantic last dinner for two on their patio.

  “Well, let’s make one last toast.” Savannah held up her glass of water.

  Even though she hadn’t gotten the news that she had wanted, and she wasn’t in fact pregnant, his wife had decided to stop drinking alcohol to prepare for pregnancy.

  “To us, my love.” Bruce touched his g
lass to hers. “Thank you for being my wife.”

  She smiled, pleased. “I love you.”

  He took a sip of his wine; he’d discovered on this trip that he actually preferred it to beer.

  “I love you more.”

  After dinner, they took one last walk on the beach. The sky, now that the moon was such a small sliver, was bursting with twinkling white stars.

  “Do you think that we’ll ever come back here?” his wife asked—he heard a sadness in her voice that their time on the island was coming to end.

  “I don’t know.” This trip had been a once-in-a-lifetime visit that had come with a hefty price tag. He didn’t begrudge the expense, but they did have a Montana ranch to run back home, and that wasn’t cheap, either.

  “Even if we never get to come back—” she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm “—this was such a blessing to be able to come here even once.”

  That was the moment when they shared a last kiss, on the beach, in the salty air, with the sparkling stars of Fiji twinkling in the cobalt-blue night sky.

  * * *

  Bruce had loved the trip to Fiji, but he was sure glad to be back at Sugar Creek Ranch. Montana was still his idea of paradise. He was back in his jeans and his T-shirts, his cowboy hat and his boots. He’d had his fill of seafood and tropical fruit; he was happy to have grits and eggs on his plate in the morning, and steak and potatoes on his plate at night. Savannah loved the ranch as he did, but he also knew that the transition from Fiji back to Montana had taken her a bit longer.

  “Hey,” Savannah greeted him when he got done with the day’s work. She was sitting cross-legged on their bed, as always surrounded by their canine family members, with her laptop open in front of her.

  He gave her a quick peck on the lips, wanting to get in the shower and wash the sweat and grime off his skin.

  “I want to show you something when you get out of the shower,” she told him.

  “Okay.”

  On the way to the shower, he picked up a pair of Savannah’s jeans and a bra.

  “Love, why can’t you seem to get your clothes near the hamper?” Bruce asked, tossing the dirty clothes into the hamper in their closet.

  “Didn’t I?” his wife asked distractedly.

  Bruce chuckled, half out of disbelief, half out of acceptance. One of the minor prices he would have to pay for being married to Savannah was her chronic inability to get her clothes in the hamper.

  He showered, shaved and then joined his family on the bed.

  Savannah smiled at him and turned the computer screen so he could see it. It was her GoFundMe page for the Sammy Smiles foundation.

  “Is that accurate?” He looked at the large bank of money on the page.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice emotional. “Our friends and family and people who have visited my page out of interest or because they have lost a child themselves to household drownings. One hundred thousand dollars, Bruce. One hundred thousand. We have more than enough to get off to a great start.”

  He leaned over and kissed her lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you. I’m actually pretty proud of me, too.”

  * * *

  She wanted to say thanks to her friends and family for their generous contributions to Sammy Smiles. So Savannah decided to organize a party as a way of expressing her gratitude but to also talk about next steps. Now that she had more than enough money to set up a nonprofit organization and begin to put the donations to work to save lives, she had to figure out what the heck to do. She had an idea, she had a passion, but she wasn’t sure how to best use the money that had been entrusted to her. The truth of it was, she had the money and the idea, and zero experience running a nonprofit.

  Even though she didn’t have an idea about how to run an organization, she was pretty talented at throwing a fabulous, memorable party. While Bruce spent his days working the ranch, Savannah threw herself into planning an event to unveil the logo design and the website she was having built for Sammy Smiles. The best place she could think to hold the event was Sugar Creek Ranch. Jock and Lilly were always gracious hosts, there was enough space for their guests and the beauty of the swath of land that was Sugar Creek was undeniable.

  “Oh, thank you, Dad!” Savannah threw her arms around Jock’s neck and kissed him hard on the cheek. “I promise we’ll pay for everything, and we’ll clean up after ourselves.”

  “It’s for Sammy,” Jock said gruffly. Jock had loved that little boy so much; Jock’s $25,000 check had gone a long way to get them to that $100,000 mark.

  That night, Savannah filled her husband in on the details of the first official Sammy Smiles event.

  “It seems like it’s all pulling together real nicely,” her husband said.

  “It really is,” she agreed.

  After a moment of silence, she posed a question that had been on her mind. “Let me ask you something.”

  Bruce didn’t look up from the game he was playing on his phone. She poked his leg with her toe. “Bruce.”

  “What?”

  “Would you please look up from your game for one second, please?” She knew that she drove him crazy when she didn’t pick up her clothes or left the toothpaste cap off the tube, but he drove her just as nuts with his Angry Bird games.

  “I’m looking at you.”

  “I hope it didn’t hurt too much,” she teased him with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “Not too much.”

  “Brat,” she retorted. “I really want your advice.”

  Now he was really looking at her and listening.

  “Do you think I should go back to school to learn how to run a nonprofit?”

  Bruce thought for a moment. “If you want. Do you think you can handle that and having a child?”

  “Tons of women do.” She shrugged. “Why can’t I?”

  “Then I say go for it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Whether he was just placating her so he could get back to his game playing, or if he sincerely thought it was a good idea, didn’t really matter. She had asked, he had answered, and she was now positive that she was going to go back to school in order to acquire the skills she needed to run Sammy Smiles and have the foundation have the biggest impact.

  * * *

  “How did you talk Dad into a party this soon?” Jessie, ever pretty and full of energy, asked her.

  “I think he was willing because it’s for Sammy Smiles.”

  “I think he was willing because you asked,” Jessie shot back. “Who’s that?”

  Savannah looked over to where Jessie was pointing. “That’s one of Bruce’s SAE brothers.”

  “Hello, frat boy.” Jessie trilled her tongue.

  “He’s way too old for you, Jessie.”

  “I only want to play a little, Savannah. Don’t be such a killjoy.”

  There really was no talking Jessie out of anything she was determined to do, and Bruce’s fraternity brother didn’t stand a chance if Jessie decided to hook him.

  Almost everyone who’d RSVP’d showed; the night, a clear, cloudless evening, cooler now that it was fall, was filled with dancing and laughter and eating and catching up. She showed everyone her pictures from Turtle Island, still missing those warm waters and the freedom of making love on the beach, as she scrolled through photos.

  “Dance with me.” Bruce held out his hand to her.

  “Go with him,” her friend Deb told her. “We’ll catch up some more later.”

  Her husband led her out onto the dance floor, spun her into his arms and smiled down at her with appreciative eyes.

  “You sure know how to put together one hell of a shindig, Mrs. Brand.”

  “Everyone seems to be having a good time
, don’t they?”

  “They sure do.”

  Sometimes, Savannah still had difficulty synthesizing the Savannah before the accident, the one who had lost over three years of memories that never returned, with the Savannah she was now. She still ran into Leroy and Kerri on occasion, but the impact of seeing them was hardly noticeable.

  “What are you thinking about?” Bruce interrupted her private thoughts.

  “Oh.” She shook her head and gave him a little smile. “It’s silly. Sometimes I still try to remember something, anything from those lost years.”

  Her husband’s concerned eyes swept her face. “I don’t want you to hurt over that anymore, my love.”

  She tilted her head back so she could look at him with all the love she felt in her eyes. “I don’t hurt anymore, Bruce. I have you. I have all of this. I have Sammy Smiles.”

  The music stopped, they stopped dancing and Bruce kissed her, as he always did, on the lips.

  “It’s time to make some announcements,” Savannah told her husband.

  Bruce had his arm around her shoulders; in a low voice meant for her ears only, he asked, “Are you ready for this?”

  She leaned back against him, her head touching his shoulder briefly. “I’ve been ready.”

  They both climbed the stairs to the stage; Savannah stood behind the microphone, now adjusted for her shorter height, while Bruce stood beside her, ever her support system.

  “Good evening!” Savannah greeted everyone at the event. “Is everyone having a great time tonight?”

  All of those friendly faces of her family and her dearest friends made her feel the swell of love and kindness she was sending to them reflected right back to her.

  “First, I want to say thank-you for all of your generosity. Because of you, Sammy Smiles has been officially registered as a tax-exempt nonprofit organization!”

  The crowd cheered and clapped for her; on a large screen behind her, a picture of their sweet son, Samuel, appeared, and the cheering and the clapping grew louder, became more intense.

  She had promised herself that she would get through the speech without crying; she had promised herself. But the minute she looked over her shoulder and encountered the larger-than-life face and smile of the son she had lost, the tears wouldn’t be denied. The picture she’d selected for this night, and for the logo of Sammy Smiles, was the very first picture she’d seen of her son after the accident. It was the first memory she had of Samuel.