Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Wrapping my hands around his face, I pulled him into a kiss then said, “I would marry you tomorrow.”
“You would? Don’t you want a big wedding?”
“I want Christine there more. Having a big wedding would require a lot of planning. She might not—”
“I know. That’s my fear, that she’ll be worse by the time we plan something.”
“Of course.” I ran my hand along his cheek. “That’s a legitimate concern.”
“I’ve known for a really long time that I want to marry you. For me, it doesn’t matter if we do it tomorrow or next year. I know you’re it for me, Amber.”
“Why don’t we do something small so that she can be there? And someday if we still want something bigger we can do that, too. Or we can just use the money for a kickass honeymoon.”
“You’d really marry me tomorrow?” He smiled. “Okay…maybe not tomorrow…but say…this weekend?”
I didn’t have to think twice. “Yes.”
He cocked his brow. “Literally? And be careful how you answer.”
“Yes…literally.”
***
We literally took our butts down to city hall the next day to apply for a marriage license.
A few days later, that weekend, my father walked me down the aisle in a small ceremony held at The Ambassador Chicago.
We’d called around to a number of places, and it just so happened that the hotel’s amazing rooftop wasn’t booked on Sunday. With the Chicago skyline and peeks of Lake Michigan as our backdrop, we were able to put together an intimate celebration with just our parents.
By the grace of God, Christine was having a mostly good day, and we got so many photos taken with her. It meant so much to Channing to have his mother there and somewhat alert. We’d bought her a beautiful champagne-colored dress. I wore a simple A-line, white strapless gown with sequin beading on the bodice.
We chose not to go on a honeymoon yet. Instead, we spent our wedding night like we spent every evening—in our cozy home.
Channing had changed out of his suit and was taking a shower when I decided to venture alone to Lainey’s old room. Living in Channing and Lainey’s childhood house was a very emotional experience. I’d spend a lot of time in that room, which was now a guest bedroom. There were boxes of her stuff still in the closet. One of my favorite things to do was to spend some quiet time each night reading through her old diaries. I’d debated for a while whether it was even appropriate to read through them. Channing was the one who finally convinced me that Lainey wouldn’t care. He pointed out that she’d told me most of her secrets and would want me to find comfort in her words all these years after her death.
The journals mostly contained innocent stuff. She wrote about boys she had a crush on or what she did during a particular day. The normal passage of time meant that I’d become disconnected from Lainey as the years passed, but reading her diaries brought her spirit back to me so clearly. I could feel her presence again. It was like reliving my own childhood in many ways.
On this special night, still in my white wedding dress and lying on the floor, I came across an ironic passage she’d written the year of her death that made me smile from ear to ear.
Today we went to the public pool down on Wellis. It was me, Channing, Amber, and Silas. I’m starting to think that Channing might like Amber. I really hope I’m wrong. Because that would be disgusting beyond belief.
Amber was wearing a bikini with strawberries on it. When she bent down to pick up her towel off the ground, her boobs spilled out a little. Channing kept staring at her. And this went on for the rest of the day. I’d keep catching him gawking.
Anyway: TOTALLY GROSS.
My shoulders shook in laughter as I closed the notebook. That was the perfect way to end this day. It was Lainey’s way of congratulating us.
EPILOGUE
* * *
CHANNING
My mother’s arms were open wide. “Hi! Hi, you beautiful, precious thing. What’s your name?”
“Lainey.”
“Lainey! That’s such a beautiful name.” She beamed. “And how old are you, Lainey?”
“I’m free.”
“Three?”
She held up three fingers. “Free.”
“Would you like a piece of candy?”
Lainey nodded enthusiastically.
“Just one,” Amber warned.
Mom reached in her drawer for a peppermint starlight mint and handed it to our daughter.
Amber helped remove the wrapper and said, “What do you say, Lainey?”
“Thank you, Gamma.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
This was probably the twentieth time that my mother had met her granddaughter for “the first time.” Lainey was a good sport and just went along with it, always welcoming the grand reception she got. Mom always gave her candy, too, so naturally, Lainey was thrilled with that. We told her that Grandma can’t remember things, but I’m not sure she fully understood. Either way, she never seemed to mind being doted on with the same enthusiasm each visit. It was hard to watch, and at the same time, it was beautiful to see my mother’s joy repeated over and over.