Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
The door to the library opens, and Harbor joins us. “Lark’s better now. I think she’s tired, and she’s definitely hungry. If we’re going to be delayed,” he says, “she says she’s picking olives off the trees and eating them.”
Taking one last look in the mirror, I adjust my tie this time. “We should be on time.”
“Okay,” he says, heading back to the door while scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll be quick, but I think I’ll find something to tide her over anyway.”
When he opens the door, Allison peeks in. “You guys ready?” Harbor slips by her.
“Perfect timing.” I walk with her down the hall with Noah in tow. “You look nice,” I say, making small talk with her, and because she does. Allison’s become more than Tuesday’s best friend. She’s hangs out at our place a lot, and as I’ve gotten to know her, she’s become like a little sister to me.
Wonder where my actual little sister is.
Allison replies, “Not too shabby yourself, Westcott.”
When we reach the back doors, I turn to her because I’ve wanted to say a few things for a while and just haven’t had the opportunity. Now feels a good time. “You know, I never did thank you.”
“For what?” She moves the bouquet to the other hand and then picks lint off her dress.
“From the day we met, you accepted without question.”
“C loves you. That’s all I needed to know.” Turning away from me, she looks outside the French doors and raises her chin. “Let’s not do any more sentimental stuff. Crying will mess up my makeup.”
I nod because it’s been said now anyway. “Deal.” The string quartet begins playing, but I add, “I lied.”
Her eyes go wide, wider than usual. “About?”
“Not getting sentimental. You’re a good friend, Allison. Not only to her but to me. Thank you.”
She waves me off as she turns to swipe at her eyes. “Yeah, no problem,” she replies through a series of sniffles. “Now cut it out. C deserves the perfect wedding, not a crowd of blubbering guests.”
“Good point.” I chuckle. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s . . .” Her gaze lengthens as if recalling a wonderful memory. When she looks at me again, a smile reaches her mouth. “She’s the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen, but it’s not just the dress and makeup. It’s the glow that shines from inside. She’s excited to marry you and called you her Prince Charming.”
“I’ve waited all my life for her.” Fuck. The sentimentality is strong today.
My dad comes around to shake my hand. “You look good, son. You ready?”
Bringing it in for a hug, there’s solid back patting. “So ready.”
My mom, who’s been quietly waiting her turn, already has tears in her eyes. “It’s a happy occasion,” I say. “Don’t cry, okay?”
She comes closer. “You were such a little mama’s boy and always had to be with me when you were little.” Harbor’s back and I can hear him and Noah cackling behind us. Giving them a look, she shushes them. “You two were no different.”
When she turns back to me, I feel the gravity of her words. Although I’m a grown man and I’ve been on my own for years, this is a different stage of life. A new adventure that leads me to start my own family. She says, “You were my little buddy. My firstborn. You taught me how to be a mom, Lochlan.”
My brothers’ laughter has died down by the time a tear slips from her eye. I hug her, holding her, her head barely reaching my shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll always be your son.”
“I couldn’t have found a better match for you,” she says, leaning back. Holding my face in her hands, she smiles. “Tuesday is wonderful.”
She is, but it feels good to hear they love her as well. Marina and Lark come from down the hall. Lark leans on Harbor with the back of her hand resting on her mouth. “I appreciate the bread, but at this stage, I need to get going down this aisle, or I’m going to be sick again.”
Harbor pulls a flask from the inside pocket of his tuxedo and hands it to her. When our mouths drop open, he’s quick to say, “Ginger ale.”
Ah. I chuckle.
Marina drags Noah up to the front with her, eyeing Allison. “I think you two should be together. I’m fine being alone.” Opening the doors, she starts down the short aisle with ripened olives hanging from the tree branches as a backdrop. The setting sun casts a golden hue over our nuptials. She couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful time of day, the golden hour as she calls it, or location.
Allison and Noah have met many times before, but they’re stumbling around each other like it’s a first date or something. So my mom shoos them out the door to keep it moving before Lark and Harbor join them.