Mom reaches for my hand. “Samantha, you are radiant. Your dad and I are so happy about Marshal. I’ve never seen you happier, ever.”
I lay my hand over my growing baby. “I know this was a shock. Believe it or not, I was on birth control.”
Mom shakes her head. “A good shock, sweetheart. We’re going to have another grandchild. How could we be upset?”
The door to the bridal room bursts open as Millie and Jane enter with Jane’s two children in tow.
“Aunt Sami,” her little boy Patrick says, “you look real pretty.”
His sister Leigh grins. “Mommy said after you get married, you can have a baby.”
I crouch down and straighten Patrick’s bowtie and look at Leigh’s dress. “That’s right. But first, I need your help with the wedding. Are you both ready to walk down the aisle?”
They both nod.
“Just because you look amazing in an off-the-rack dress from Target doesn’t mean I’m going to follow suit,” Millie says as I stand and she hugs me, peering over my shoulder into the mirror.
Marshal and I had agreed we wanted a small and private wedding, nothing like the huge extravaganza I’d had planned with tiny-dick. We only wanted the people we love and those who love us. It turns out that includes half of Johnson and a significant portion of Grand Rapids.
To compromise, we found a beautiful wedding venue created from a refurbished barn.
The ceremony is to be outside, under the blue sky and the reception will be bigger than we planned. This time, Marshal and I insisted on paying for everything, well, almost.
Jane smiles at Mom as she comes to my side. “Something old.” She drapes a string of pearls around my neck.
As my fingers flutter over the necklace, my mom tells the story that I already know. “These were given to your great-grandmother on her wedding day by your great-grandfather. My mother wore them in her wedding, your two aunts wore them, and so did I.”
“And so did I,” Jane says. “Now they’re yours to hold onto until the next one of us girls is married.”
We all turned to Millie.
“That would be me,” she says, wiggling her engagement ring. Yes, my little sister was almost married before me.
Almost.
Her wedding is in two months, which is another reason Marshal and I didn’t want my parents to pay. When it comes to Millie’s wedding, I hope my bridesmaid dress will fit.
Just as I told Mom long ago, that’s what alterations are for.
Even though I adore my friends, by keeping this wedding small, I only asked my sisters to stand up with me. Marshal’s brother, Marcus, is his best man and my brother, Bryon, will also stand on his side.
Nothing has ever felt so right as the idea of the Michaelses and Andersons officially coming together as one big family.
There’s a knock on the door.
“If that’s Marshal, tell him he can’t see his bride until the ceremony,” Jane says.
Mom nods as she opens the door a sliver and peers out. “Monica.”
Marshal’s mother.
“Would you mind if I come say something to Sami?”
I nod as Mom looks my way.
“Come on in,” Mom says.
I grin as Marshal’s mom smiles my way.
“You’re beautiful, Sami.”
“Thank you.”
She clutches my hands. “You have always been like a daughter to me. You know that, I hope.”
I nod, swallowing the emotions that are multiplying within me faster than the hormones.
“You may already have something, but” —she opens her clutch and pulls out a sapphire-and-diamond bracelet— “George gave this to me on our wedding day. It was for my something new and something blue. I always imagined giving it to my daughter on her wedding day.” She places it in my hand and closes my fingers around it. “Today, I am. It’s yours, Sami. Maybe you’re carrying a girl and one day it can be hers. Or maybe you’ll be like me and leave it to the good Lord to knock some sense into your son and give you the perfect daughter.”
I open my fingers. “Oh, Monica, I’ll wear it and cherish it, but I can’t keep it.”
“You can, Sami. I trust you with it, just like I trust you with my son. You know that Marshal has always been my unpredictable child.” She looks at Mom. “We all have at least one of those.”
Mom laughs. “He’s marrying mine.”
Monica squeezes my hand. “And I couldn’t be happier.”
The seconds and minutes tick by as a photographer takes pictures and my dad appears, looking dashing in his dress pants, bow tie, and suspenders. It is Marshal’s one demand—regarding the wedding, no suit coats. He wants things as casual as possible. I look down and smile at my dad’s shoes. I believe that despite the fact he’s lived in Michigan his entire life, he is wearing his first pair of cowboy boots.
Dad lifts his foot and tugs up the leg of his slacks. “Marshal explained how they’re good for kicking zombies during the apocalypse.”
“I think your supplies are now complete.”
“I didn’t know about the boot part. If I had, I’d have had a pair a long time ago.”
I kiss his cheek.
He walks me to the doorway. The children have gone ahead with their pillow and flower petals. Millie has gone and Jane just stepped away. I place my hand in the crook of Dad’s arm.
“I love you, Sami girl. Tell me that Marshal makes you happy.”
“He does.”
“Tell me he’s good to you.”
“He is.”
“Tell me you love him.”
“Always, Dad. Always.”
My dad kisses my cheek. “Then it’s time to get you hitched.”
We walk together down the grass-covered aisle. As soon as we turn the corner, I see him, I see Marshal and as our eyes meet, I feel as if my heart will burst. He’s the entire package. He’s sexy and dirty when we’re alone. He’s caring and trusting. He’s honest and loving. He’s my protector and my cheerleader. He knows what I need before the thought crosses my mind.
He’s my best friend.
My lover.
My confidant.
My companion.
He’s my forever.
My always one.
Epilogue
Sami
A year later
“I can’t believe we actually took Mitchell to my parents’ house for the weekend so we can have sex,” I say, lying back in the crook of Marshal’s arm on the outdoor sofa on our back porch. Before us is a hazy sky covering the countryside.
Before Mitch was born, Marshal and I both decided to move back to Johnson. Living here makes our commutes to work longer, but it is worth the drive to have our dream home, land for our son to roam, and both sets of our parents nearby.
In a nutshell, Johnson isn’t slumming it. Johnson is home and where we met.
Marshal and I want Mitch and any future children to have a childhood like we had.
Who knows, maybe when our son is five, he’ll meet his always one.
“Oh,” Marshal says, “he’s not at Jean and Paul’s just so we can have sex anywhere and everywhere without traumatizing Mitch for life.” His blue eyes twinkle. “This is our anniversary and I have plans for you, Mrs. Michaels. Be prepared for a weekend of pampering.”