Chaplain Grant broke into his thoughts. “Today’s ceremony will unite Sam and Lucy as husband and wife. But there’s a little more to it. As you all know, they’re going to be parents in about six months. A family . . .” His voice trailed off, inviting every guest to think about what family meant to him or her.
“Family,” he repeated more firmly. “Science defines it in terms of blood and DNA, but our hearts understand family through shared experiences. Memories. A tender touch in a crisis. Or that trip to the principal’s office when a teenager makes gunpowder in the chemistry lab—by accident, of course.”
Laughter rippled out from the crowd, mostly from the guys.
The chaplain’s eyes twinkled. “DNA determines that first physical link, but love alone holds a family together. A woman’s love for a man who has promised to honor, love, and protect her until death parts them. And a man’s love for that brave woman who vows to stand by him through thick and thin. But there’s a problem here.”
No kidding. To honor and protect . . . Jake lived by those words, but what did a man do when he failed to live up to them? Connie should have been here today, seated in the front row with a handful of tissues, crying happy tears.
“We’re imperfect human beings,” Grant continued. “We’re destined to fail. The only love that never fails is God’s love. His love for his children—us—is boundless, battle-tested, and bold. It’s trustworthy, tried, and true. That kind of love requires action.” He paused. “Don’t worry, I’m done with the A words, but I want to be brutally clear on my next point.”
He waited until even the squirrels in the trees seemed to snap to attention.
“Love is a choice. It’s keeping promises when they’re tough to keep. It’s staying when you want to leave. And it’s seeing the other person through the same forgiving lens through which God sees us all. Marriage is a conscious act. A decision. And that’s the step Sam and Lucy are taking today.”
The chaplain ended with a crisp nod, then focused on Sam with his hawkish eyes. “Are you ready, son?”
“Yes, sir!” Sam’s voice came out way too loud.
Fresh echoes of laughter mixed with the slight breeze. Jake glanced at Mia, expecting to see a smile, but she was biting her lip, maybe to hold back tears. Her bare ring finger flashed through his mind, and he recalled the way she had stoically held Lucy’s first bouquet. He’d bet his hearing aids some fool had broken her heart, and he didn’t like the thought at all. In fact, he wanted to deck the jerk who had hurt her.
Where had that thought come from? No mystery there. Mia was lovely and sweet, good-natured, and just plain sexy in that short dress and those spiky heels. Call it chemistry. Call it electricity. Call it nature or animal instinct. Whatever it was, it roared and thumped in his chest, until his gaze landed on the empty chair in the front row where Sam had laid a white rose to remember his mom.
Vicious buzzing erupted in Jake’s ears, and Connie’s ashen face shimmered in front of his eyes. Without Pirate, he was on his own against the pictures snapping through his mind. Connie prone on the concrete floor. Blood on the side of her head. The lack of all sound, even his own voice trying to rouse her. The buzz in his ears morphed into jackhammering that matched the panicked beat of his heart.
Lord, help. I’m losing it here. Desperate for a steady breath, he focused on Sam and Lucy to ground himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mia watching him.
Her brows lifted. Are you okay?
How did she know? Did his weakness show, or was she an exceptional nurse, the kind who interpreted faces and body language as plainly as words? Either way, a silent bond formed between them. Steadier, Jake drew in a lungful of cool air. The jackhammering in his ears eased to a manageable buzz, and he replied to Mia with a crisp nod.
To his relief, she answered with a calm dip of her chin. He hated it when people overreacted to him overreacting.
When the chuckling at Sam’s overly loud voice faded, the chaplain cleared his throat. “Repeat after me. ‘I, Samuel Jason Waters, take you, Lucy Anne Robinson, to be my wedded wife.’”
Sam repeated the age-old words and the ones that followed. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health until death parted them. Lucy went next. Where Sam’s voice boomed like a cannon, hers warbled like a wren singing its heart out.
The chaplain cued Jake for the ring. When Sam reached for it, Jake pressed the gold band into his palm. They traded a strong look, then Sam turned back to his bride.
“Now, Sam,” Grant continued, “repeat after me. ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”
Speaking in a slow, calm voice, Sam recited the vows and slipped the ring onto Lucy’s finger—no small feat, considering she was bouncing on her toes.
“Lucy,” the chaplain said, “it’s your turn.”
Teary-eyed, Mia held out the ring with a steady hand. Instead of taking it, Lucy pulled her sister into a hug so long and tight, even Jake choked up. When they broke apart, Mia was a watery mess and Lucy was the steady one. Ring in hand, she spoke her vows to Sam, her eyes glued to his and her voice cracking.
Chaplain Grant raised his arms. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I pronounce you husband and wife. Sam, you may now kiss your bride.”
And he did. Thoroughly.
For Jake, time froze into snapshots of Sam drawing Lucy close, the kiss, the tangle of their arms, her white dress and Sam’s black suit. And finally, a picture of Mia in shades of peach and gold with two bouquets trembling in her hands.
When Sam finally ended the kiss, Mia gave Lucy back her bouquet. As the couple walked down the tiny aisle, Jake approached Mia with his hand extended. Her trembling fingers found his, and she squeezed, smiling through her tears.
“Can you believe this?” She gave a tiny sniff. “I’m a mess, and I don’t have a tissue.”
“Here.” Jake pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He didn’t usually carry one, but a best man needed to be prepared, so he had borrowed it from his dad.
Smiling her appreciation, Mia blotted the moisture from her cheeks. “Thank you, Jake.”
It felt good to ride to the rescue again, even if it was just with a handkerchief for a teary woman.
An hour later, after a buffet dinner served on the deck, Mia joined Frank and Claire at one of the tables pushed to the side to make room for dancing. Jake was plugging speakers into an iPad, and Sam and Lucy were holding hands and talking with friends, waiting for the music and their first dance. Mia, relaxed now that the ceremony was over, sipped a glass of the lime soda water she liked.
Claire was in especially good spirits tonight. Instead of being overwhelmed by the crowd, she thrived on the snippets of conversation that matched her attention span. Relaxed and at ease with Frank at her side, she turned to Mia with a sparkle in her eyes. “You should be next.”
Not again. How many times had a well-meaning soul teased her about marriage? Too many. Mia feigned ignorance. “For what?”
“To get married.”
“I don’t think so, Claire.”
For once, it didn’t hurt to say those words. Yesterday she had received a congratulatory email from Mission Medical and a request to schedule a panel interview the week of August sixteenth. The timing worked perfectly, another gift from God. By then, she’d have stories to tell about adapting to her new life in Echo Falls.
Claire nudged her again. “Don’t give up hope, Mia. It’s worth waiting for the right man.” When she patted Frank’s knee, he covered her hand with his larger one. “I can’t imagine my life without Frank. Especially now, though why he puts up with me—”
He kissed her cheek. “You know why.”
Love. The kind that lasted. Mia glanced down at Frank’s hand on Claire’s, his knuckles swollen with arthritis and age spots dotting his skin. She thought of the pictures in the stairwell, especially the wedding picture of Claire and Frank gazing into each other’s eyes. Mia ached for them and the challenge
of Alzheimer’s, but she envied their strong marriage.
The first notes of a popular love song trickled out of the speakers. The crowd pulled back to make room for the bride and groom’s first dance. Sam took Lucy’s hand in his, and they swayed together in the way of people who didn’t really know how to dance.
Claire let out a sigh. “I remember my own wedding like it was yesterday. I just wish I could remember what I did ten minutes ago.”
Frank looped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got it covered, honey. Ten minutes ago, you were sitting here with me, and you’ll be with me ten months from now. Even ten years. You know that.”
A warm glow settled in Mia’s chest. No wonder Frank and Claire had been married so long. Frank truly loved his wife and knew what commitment meant.
When the music faded to a whisper, Sam and Lucy invited their friends to join them. Someone turned up the volume on a Maroon 5 song, and the party took off.
Grinning, Frank stood and offered his hand to Claire. “What do you say? Shall we show these kids how it’s done?”
Claire laughed. “I don’t know this song at all, but I say yes!” Arm in arm, they hit the dance floor as if they were in their twenties again.
Mia sat alone, her toes tapping on the wood and her heart full of relief, because she really didn’t like to dance, as well as sadness, because she wasn’t dancing. She supposed it was Jake’s duty to ask her, but she hoped he didn’t. In fact, this was a good time to restock the big ice chest holding soft drinks.
She took two steps before he caught up to her.
“Mia?” He stood with his hand extended and one brow lifted slightly above the other. “Shall we?”
“Dance?”
A grin split his face. “You really are a detective.”
She laughed, both at herself and at Jake. “What can I say? The music was a clue.”
“Music?” He tapped his hearing aid. “What music?”
“You mean—”
“I’m playing with you,” he said. “I hear the song just fine. What do you say? Just one dance.”
Mia hesitated. “I don’t know—”
“I have to warn you,” he said, glum-faced, “I dance like a circus bear.”
Before she thought too much about it, she took his hand. “Now that I have to see.”
As they reached the edge of the crowd, the music changed from the quirky beat of Maroon 5 to the strains of Coldplay and “A Sky Full of Stars.” Mia’s breath snagged at the back of her throat. She loved this song and Lucy knew it. But Lucy didn’t know Mia had planned it for her own first dance with Brad.
Well, not anymore. But she still loved the song.
Jake put his hand on her back, took her in his arms, and glided into the music with a grace she didn’t expect.
“You lied,” she said over the lyrics.
“About what?”
“Dancing like a circus bear.”
A sly grin curled his lips. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted you to say yes.”
And she had. But now what did she do? She didn’t want a romance with Jake or any man. On the other hand, why not dance for the joy of it? For once in her life, she had nothing to lose or gain by accepting a man’s invitation. She and Jake were just friends, and they both wanted to stay behind that line.
She gave a light laugh, looked into his eyes, and let the song carry her. The music soared higher with every beat, taking her with it. When Jake spun her around, she ended the twirl with a silly little curtsy. He grinned, and so did she.
They were good together, she realized. But not as good as Frank and Claire, who were pulling off a foxtrot worthy of Dancing with the Stars.
Mia leaned into Jake. “Those two can dance!”
“It’s good to see.” He spun her around again, then pulled her closer than before, but not too close, while he watched his parents with a sad smile. Aching for them all, Mia stepped even closer to him.
The music faded into the final piano notes, and they stood together, breathing in unison, until the next song began with a slow, haunting rhythm.
“One more?” He lifted a brow.
“I’d like that.”
An hour later, when the playlist wound down, Jake and Mia gave their toasts as best man and maid of honor; the cake was served; and Lucy prepared to toss her bouquet. Claire urged Mia to join the game, but Mia stayed behind with Jake and his parents. Teasing and laughter filled the air, and when Lucy’s best friend caught the flowers, Mia clapped wildly.
She didn’t want the night to end. Apparently neither did Jake, because after Sam and Lucy left for a night at a honeymoon cottage, they cleaned up the deck and kitchen together, then relaxed on the sofa and indulged in leftover wedding cake. With Pirate curled at Jake’s side, they talked until after midnight.
Jake brought up that moment during the ceremony when she’d noticed he was emotionally rattled. “Sometimes memories strike like a snake in the grass.”
“What did it?” she asked, absently stroking Pirate’s thick coat.
“That white rose on the empty chair.”
“It was a lovely gesture,” she said. “And utterly devastating.”
Jake stretched one long leg. “I’d give anything to hit rewind and not go into that building, but we can’t change the past. In a perfect world, no one would die, at least not tragically. But that’s out of our hands. Only God knows what the future holds or why the past is what it is. Without my faith, I’d be lost.”
“Me too,” she said. “Sometimes we just have to move on and do something completely new.”
“That’s what Camp Connie is about.”
“And why I decided to apply for the job with Mission Medical.”
“It’s a good cause.” He studied her for a moment, his expression relaxed but still piercing. “Can I ask you something a little more personal?”
“Sure.” Why not? After all, they were just friends. Good friends, now.
“Why the big change?”
“This.” She waggled her ring finger. “A broken engagement. Actually the second one, though the first disaster is ancient history. Even so, I needed to jump-start my life, so I did. Getting the coordinator job is a long shot, but I’d love to do that kind of work. There’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in correcting facial abnormalities in children. That’s the kind of difference I want to make.”
“You glow when you talk about it.”
“I do?”
“Like the stars in the sky,” he said, quoting the song.
Silence settled over them, drifting down like a soft blanket. Mia gave in to the first yawn, Pirate gave the second, and Jake yawned last.
Tired, relaxed, and happy, she and Jake stood and faced each other. He didn’t try to kiss her good-night, and that was good. On the other hand, she fell asleep dreaming of that sky full of stars and wondering about all the things she had missed in her life, particularly the one thing she was saving for the husband she’d probably never have.
When Sam stepped out of the bathroom of their honeymoon cottage, a tiny log house with skylights that let in the silvery glow of the moon, Lucy saw his pajamas and grinned. The bottoms were black and white plaid, and the T-shirt top said, I Heart My Awesome Wife. Her pajamas matched his, except they were pink and her shirt said I Heart my Awesome Husband.
She hugged her knees to her chest. “This was the best day of my life.”
“Mine too.”
“But it’s going to be the worst night ever.” The spotting had stopped, but she was on pelvic rest until she saw her OB next week. Lucy understood the biology of pregnancy and the laws of chance, but she couldn’t help wondering why this had happened to them. Was God angry with her? Punishing her because she and Sam had sinned?
Sam took her hand and kissed it. “You have to laugh at the irony. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and now I’m afraid to be in the same room with you.”
“It is ironic, isn’t it?”
“Very.”
&
nbsp; “Sam?” Her voice came out in a peep.
He dropped onto the edge of the bed and took her icy hand in his warm one. “What is it, Pudge? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Or maybe she did, but she was afraid to voice her fears. Would Sam be disappointed in her? She was a Christian, but her faith didn’t measure up to his.
“Give it a shot.”
“All right. The spotting and all. The fact we can’t make love on our wedding night. Do you think God is punishing us?”
“No way!” He covered the top of her hand with his other one, making a protective shell. “He loves us, Lucy. And He loves the baby.”
“But we messed up.”
He scooted back an inch. “I don’t want to make light of sleeping together before getting married, but a mistake doesn’t make God love us any less. It means we’re human and need a Savior. You know that, right?”
“Well, yes. It’s just . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I mean.”
Yes, she did. She was afraid she couldn’t measure up to other people. Couldn’t be like Mia. Couldn’t be the good wife Sam deserved and the strong one he needed to succeed in his career. She was afraid that God didn’t really love her, because while Mia was busy saving the world, Lucy could only make people smile.
Sam was one of those people, and making love made him smile more than just about anything. Without that mysterious connection, she worried they’d fight and he’d get tired of her. She didn’t bother to voice her fears. He’d make promises, but would he be able to keep them? Considering he had broken the one he made to himself and to God to stay pure, she didn’t know what to think.
He leaned in for a kiss, then trailed a finger down her cheek. “We’re going to be fine, Pudge. You know I love you.”
“Yes.”
“And I love Beanie Baby.”
Her hand went to her tummy. No bump yet, but she wasn’t her skinny self either.
Sam gave her a last squeeze and let her go. “Let’s stop talking about what’s not happening tonight and do something else.”
“Like what?”
He pushed off the bed, went to his duffel, and came back with their computer tablets. “How about Googling baby names?”
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