After a few seconds, he notices the surprised looks on our faces. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say, stifling a confused laugh.
“Sorry to break up the party,” Meghan says, walking into the room. She hands me a clipboard with a piece of paper and a pen attached to it. “I just need you to fill this out for the birth certificate.”
“Wait,” Sam says, taking it from me. “Not yet.” He narrows his eyes at me. “We have to do something first.”
* * *
“Sebastian, is this really necessary?” I ask, sitting on my hospital bed in front of him, while he blow-dries my freshly washed hair. “You’re going to wake up the baby.” I look over at her asleep in the basinet beside the bed.
“She’s fine, she’s in a milk coma.” He continues tugging my hair with a round brush.
“I guess you can add hairstylist to your resume now,” I tease.
“I’m not sure I’ve quite got the hang of it,” he says, blowing my hair all over my face. “But you only get married once. And call me crazy, but I think you’ll want a picture to commemorate the occasion. And I don’t want you looking back at it one day, wishing you’d washed your hair.”
“Okay, okay.” I laugh. “You’ve made your point.”
He grabs my makeup bag off the side table and plops it in my lap. “Or wishing that you’d put on a little makeup.”
I laugh again. “It’s killing you, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“That we’re not having a real wedding.”
He pauses and clears his throat. “I’ve come to terms with it.”
I reach over my shoulder and put my hand on his. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“It does help ease the pain a little.”
I laugh and pull out my mirror. “I could use a little concealer.”
“And maybe some gloss. And a little mascara.”
“Bas, I just had a baby, let’s not call a dandelion a rose.”
“And let’s not call a rose a dandelion. Rose.”
I smile and put on some makeup while he finishes my hair. By the time we’re both done, you’d never know I’ve only had a few hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.
“Okay, here are your options,” Bas says, pulling things out of my bag. “Stretchy black yoga pants or…loose gray yoga pants.”
I lean across the bed and reach for the loose gray pants.
“White shirt, no arguments.” He throws it at me. “Go change.”
“Okay, watch the baby.” I get up and walk to the bathroom, taking much too long to change. When I return, I find Sebastian sitting in the rocking chair in front of the window, rocking the baby. “She was crying,” he says, patting her back.
“She seems pretty happy now.”
“Yeah.” He smiles at me. “You look great. Ready to get married in your hospital room.”
I laugh and sit back down on the bed. “Thanks.”
“Hey.” Sam walks in and I drink him in. He’s showered and shaved and his caramel-colored hair is perfectly styled. He’s wearing dark gray jeans, his brown leather utility boots, and a fitted white T-shirt that shows off the tattoos on both arms now. I wonder how long it will be before Joey takes up a spot on his skin.
“Hi,” I say, smiling up at him.
He leans over and kisses me. “You look beautiful.”
“You’re sweet.”
Miles, Tristan, and Molly follow him in, each carrying a large vase that’s overflowing with white lilies, hydrangeas, and orchids.
“What is this?” I ask, happily surprised, as they place them around the room.
Sam sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for my hand. “It might not be a big wedding, but you should still have flowers.”
I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“One more,” Paul says, carrying in a beautiful arrangement of pink hydrangeas and white roses. He hands me the small card attached to them, which simply says, Congratulations. All my love, Janice.
I smile and let go of the last thread of guilt that held me to my past. I tuck the card away and look up at Sam. All I can see now is my future.
A large man walks into the room with a warm smile on his face.
Sam stands up. “Lucy, this is the chaplain.”
“Hi Lucy, I’m Pastor O’Brien.” He reaches out to shake my hand.
“Hi.” I shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And is this the little one?” he asks, making his way over to Sebastian. “Miss Josephine?”
“Yes.” Sebastian smiles and stands up.
The chaplain puts his hand on Joey’s back and says something softly that I can’t hear. But it makes Sebastian smile. He turns around and looks at me and Sam. “Are we ready?”
Sam looks at me and I nod. “I should stand,” I say, putting my feet on the floor.
“No need,” the chaplain says, putting his hand up. “It works just as well sitting down.”
I give Sam a conflicted look, but he sits down next to me and says, “You just had a baby. Don’t get up.” He reaches for my hands and holds them in his.
“Okay.”
“Are there rings to exchange?” the chaplain asks.
I shake my head, but Sam smiles at me and says, “Yes, there are.” He looks at Miles, who reaches into his pocket and pulls out two shiny white gold rings.
“What?” I ask, smiling as he hands me one of the bands.
Sam looks at me and says, “I hope they’re okay. I know they’re simple.”
I nod and put my hand on his face, and he kisses me.
“Not yet!” The chaplain laughs, and we sit up straight. “Okay, Lucy, put the ring on Sam’s left hand and then repeat after me.”
“Okay.” I smile at Sam and slide the thick, shiny band onto his left ring finger, careful of his knuckles, which are still red from the fight. Then I repeat the words that the chaplain says. “I, Lucy Bennett, take you, Sam Cole, to be my husband.” He smiles at me and my heart swells inside my tight chest. “To have and to hold from this day forward…for better or for worse…for richer or poorer…in sickness and in health…to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death.” I swallow down the lump in my throat as our entire life flashes before me.
I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Cole…Kids like us have to stick together, Lucy…We’re going to get out of here one day, Luc. I promise…Marry me, Lamb. Be with me for the rest of our lives.
Sam reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek.
“Okay, Sam, put the ring on Lucy’s left hand.”
He slides the band onto my left ring finger and holds my hands in his. He repeats after the chaplain, “I, Sam Cole, take you, Lucy Bennett, to be my wife.” He smiles wide and new tears fill my eyes. “To have and to hold from this day forward…for better or for worse…for richer or poorer…in sickness and in health…to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear. “One more thing,” he says, gazing into my soul with his beautiful eyes. “Lucy, I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old. We didn’t have much back then, but I had everything, because I had you.”