She sighs and touches my face. “I do like Daniel. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. You’re going to need that.” I ignore her sideways insult as she continues. “I know you think Daddy and I are a couple of curmudgeons, but this is not the wedding I pictured for my only daughter.”
I bite my lip to hold back a cackle over the fact that she did not get my meaning when I said what would happen in eight months. “That’s the trouble,” I say. “You shouldn’t visualize what you want for your children. It won’t turn out exactly the way you want it.”
“Well,” she sighs, before leaving the tent to find Daddy and enjoy the ceremony. “I still have your brother Boone to marry off.”
My poor brother. “That’s the spirit. There’s a one hundred percent chance that Pastor Butthead will have church wedding.”
Momma shakes her head before leaving the tent without any further fussing. I’m grateful to have a quiet moment to check myself over in the mirror. And I’m honestly glad my parents are here, even if they are a bit uptight.
Mainly I wish MeMaw could see me today.
The vintage yellow dress of hers that I found in the closet hangs above my knees. In my hair I’m wearing a crown of daisies and lavender.
Around my neck is MeMaw’s antique cameo necklace. It’s a beautiful morning in Texas.
Little does my mother know that Daniel and I greeted the morning together, him waking me with his tongue between my legs. Surely I’ll go straight to hell for fornicating. Thinking back on it makes me flush. I can’t believe I get to have this man in my bed, in my life, in my heart, forever.
When I hear the guitar and the flute begin, I exit the tent, and Dolly and I make our way to my favorite tree. Under the low branch that’s been wrapped with ribbons and fairy lights stands the judge and my true love. Daniel.
My face can’t stop smiling and I have to remember to breathe. Just when I think I might pass out, he takes my arm in his, and warmth floods my body. I feel fine again.
The judge begins, but Daniel interrupts. “Can I get some water for the bride? She looks pale.”
Someone brings me a bottle of water from the bridal tent. I take a drink and I nod that I’m fine to go on.
Daniel instinctively puts a hand to my tummy. “You sure you don’t want to sit down? No rules say you have to stand.”
The judge nods. “That’s correct, and in your condition…”
Still clueless, my mother whispers, “What condition?”
I have to chuckle at her reaction. To the judge, I say, “I’m fine, let’s do this.”
I hear my daddy whisper to my mother, “We’ll talk about this later.”
Daniel cups my face and kisses me sweetly, tenderly on the lips so as not to mess up my makeup.
The judge clears his throat. “That kissing part does technically come later,” he says with good humor. All the guests laugh.
But Daniel doesn’t listen, and I don’t really care to listen, either.
Next thing I hear is guests’ oohs and awws over something I can’t see but is definitely too cute for words.
Around my ankles, I feel the nudging and nipping of six white Bichon puppies, who were only supposed to be released from their crate after we are pronounced husband and wife. Boone got his cue all wrong. Either that or he’s entertaining his rare mischievous side.
But I don’t care. I keep kissing my man.
I make the rules here.
THE END