I get to the end of the aisle and Dad reaches up to wipe the corner of his eye. His friend Jeff claps him on the shoulder. I smile at him and take my place at the end of Viv’s row of bridesmaids.
Being maid of honor is a pretty big deal. I still can’t believe Viv asked me. She said there was no one else she’d rather have. I love her. She’s beautiful and sweet and so in love with my dad.
Everyone stands and turns toward the end of the aisle. I hear happy sighs, and I know why when I see Viv. She looks like a princess. Her strapless white dress glitters with all the pearls and beads sewn into it. It fits her so perfectly. Her dark hair is piled into curls on her head just like mine, and she wears a tiara that’s just a little bigger than mine.
When I look at Dad, my eyes burn with tears. He’s crying and smiling at the same time. Viv’s dad is crying, too. He shakes Dad’s hand and kisses Viv when they reach the end of the aisle.
I’m picturing Dad walking me down the aisle one day. Maybe Jeremiah Pennington will be standing there waiting for me. He’s a grade ahead of me in school and he doesn’t exactly know I exist yet, but I have plenty of time to change that.
Viv turns to hand me her bouquet of white roses. I smile up at her and she reaches for me with a hug. I thrust the bouquet out to the side so it won’t get squished. I’ve got one job–to hold the bouquet during the ceremony, and I’m not blowing it.
Viv’s friend Cara, who is the bridesmaid standing next to me, takes the bouquet so I can hug Viv. Phew. Viv already told me she’s got another bouquet to throw at the reception. She’s giving this one to me, and I want to keep it looking as perfect as it does right now.
“I love you, Brook,” she says softly.
“I love you, too.”
I can’t wait for her to be my stepmom. I hope her and Dad have kids so I can have brothers and sisters. I’m a good babysitter.
Viv wipes the corner of her eye, takes the bouquet from Cara and turns to Dad. He takes both her hands and brings them up to his mouth, kissing them. I hope Jeremiah Pennington will look at me this way someday. Dad adores Viv. He says she saved him from himself. She says it all started with him saving her, though.
They both cry as they say their vows to each other. Seeing my big strong, dad cry makes me cry, too. I’ve never cried when I was happy until now. It’s kind of weird.
When it’s time for the kiss, Dad kisses Viv nice and sweet, but then he wraps an arm around her waist and dips her back, still kissing her. Everyone laughs and claps. Dad and Viv are laughing, too. My dad is serious a lot of the time, but he’s got a fun side.
I’m going to dance with him at the reception. As soon as he finishes the first dance with Viv. When it’s over, they’re taking a private plane to the Bahamas for their honeymoon. I wish I was going, but Mom told me all couples need to go on a honeymoon alone. Also, I’m pretty sure I know what they’ll be doing, and I wouldn’t want to be in the same hotel while that was going on. Gross.
Dad and Viv are taking me to Disneyworld for a week in two months. That’ll be more fun than the Bahamas, anyway.
The pastor announces Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Kane and Dad raises their joined hands in the air. The crowd is cheering. Dad leans over to the pastor and says something. The pastor gets everyone’s attention again.
“Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Kane and their daughter Brooklyn,” the pastor says, smiling.
Everyone cheers again. My face warms up as everyone looks at me. I smile and Viv links her free arm through mine.
She doesn’t let go. When it’s time for them to walk down the aisle, all three of us go together.
This is just like the fairytales Mom used to read me. I can feel it deep down inside. Dad and Viv’s happily ever after is about to start. And I get to be part of it.
BRENDA ROTHERT LIVES IN CENTRAL Illinois with her husband and three sons. She was a daily print journalist for nine years, during which time she enjoyed writing a wide range of stories.
These days Brenda writes New Adult Romance in the Contemporary and Dystopian genres. She loves to hear from readers.
Visit Brenda Rothert at www.brendarothert.com.
Thanks for reading Barely Breathing. I hope you enjoyed it!
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BARELY BREATHING IS THE SIXTEENTH book I’ve written, and it was one of the toughest. I went through a motivational struggle early on and then had to get super focused to finish it on time. I often do my best writing under pressure, and I feel that way about some of the scenes I wrote near the end of my deadline on this book. But that supercharged creativity has a price. It means I put some other people under pressure, too.
First and foremost, thanks to my formatter, Christine Borgford of Perfectly Publishable. She gets me, supports me and keeps me grounded. She also makes my books look beautiful and she formats them perfectly. She really adapted to my schedule on this book and it was a tremendous help.
My friend and beta reader Janett Gomez was such a rock star with this book. She read it in sections, cheered me on and gave invaluable feedback. In this particular story, Janett saved my readers from a hairy cunt with her honesty. (Truth. You should totally thank her for that.) There is nothing that compares to having her constant, solid friendship in my life. I can call on her anytime and she’s always there. Huge hugs and heartfelt thanks, Janett.
Michelle Tan and Pam Million also provided great beta feedback. Michelle’s e-mails and on the spot teasers keep me so motivated to push forward on a story.
Stephanie Reid and Darlene Avery came to my rescue with beta feedback and line editing wizardry. So much love, ladies.
Pam Carrion is pretty much the most awesome person ever. Her graphics, organization and support helped make my release day an actual release instead of just me thrusting the book into the universe and seeing what happened.
Sara Eirew’s photo and Regina Wamba’s design expertise made the Barely Breathing cover my favorite of all my covers to date. Regina knocked me out with the design on this one.
My wonderful blogger friends and the members of Rothert’s Readers helped spread the word about this book. I couldn’t do what I do without that group and the constant support I get there. It means so much.
My village was smaller on this book, and for me it felt like a concerted effort by the core group of people who have my back every time I write a book.
My husband and kids were understanding when I had to lock myself in my office and focus hard on this book. They’re very good at rolling with my crazy.
Romance novels are so much more than love stories. I hope if my kids ever read my work one day, they’ll take from Barely Breathing that it’s never too late. No one is beyond hope. And love can heal the deepest of wounds.
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