Epilogue

Reed

“Fuck, I’m nervous.”

“Hey. No swearing in church, Grunt. I’ll throw you in confessional so long you’ll miss your honeymoon. Mr. and Mrs. Adamski would frown on that.” He stopped his censure only long enough to throw in a long-suffering sign of the cross for good measure.

“Color me warned,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “The only time I want to spend on my knees is while worshipping my wife’s pussy.”

Milo slapped a hand on his forehead and frowned. “Aren’t you listening? That’s not church appropriate either. But as for the worshipping part, you’ve got that right. You better kneel until they’re raw and skinless as penance for your bullshit of the last twenty plus years,” Milo said quietly, a reproachful smirk on his face.

“Hypocrite,” I teased, slapping my best friend and best man on his solid shoulder. “You said no swearing. Mr. and Mrs. Adamski, and all that.”

“Shh. They’re starting,” he whispered, just as the first notes from the organ sounded. “You’d be ill-prepared for your own funeral.”

The magnificent chords of the antique pipe organ echoed in the soaring, vaulted space, and I wondered what the hell I’d done to deserve this lavish Pope-worthy spectacle. I half expected him to be carried into his place of honor in the first pew, behind his bulletproof glass enclosure. My Polish twin pulled a few strings to have the wedding take place in his family’s traditional place of worship. Was there a grander, more ostentatious structure as a Polish Catholic Church? If so, I’d never been inside one. My first wedding had been more like Viva Las Vegas.

I buried the last thought about my painful, roller coaster history with a confident finality. After all, there was a graveyard attached to this building, no more appropriate place to let go of the ghosts of the past. My life stretched before me, looking like a wide expanse of happiness and love. It hadn’t really begun until this moment. I had my best friend by my side, and my daughter walking gracefully and joyfully down a carpeted path toward me. Her small face bore a healthy glow that wasn’t only due to miracle drug treatments. Her happiness and excitement over this day made her positively radiant.

Daddy, can I have a mommy again? I’m so excited about my new mommy!

Her words of hours before continued to caress my ears. They echoed and thrummed until I thought my heart might burst out of my chest under the weight of the emotions. I struggled to keep the man-tears at bay as I watched, transfixed at the sight of her leading the way up the aisle clutching a basket of trailing mini-roses in her tiny hands as her, once again, thick chocolate tresses cascaded over her shoulders.

She’d insisted on having her hair styled ‘just like Harper’s’ and her dress was a short version of the bride’s. Jessica had already turned into Harper’s little mini-me, worshiping at the altar of her love and kindness. And Harper? She’d taken to Jessica as if she were her own child. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Part of me wondered if Jessica’s lack of a motherly influence had contributed to her illness. While I’d tried my damnedest to be both parents, I didn’t have much of a feminine side. Ever since Harper had entered the picture, Jess had flourished in a way she hadn’t since Robin’s departure. Probably ever.

She smiled at me, freeing one hand to send me a little wave, and I lost it. Complete, total breakdown of my emotional scaffolding, and I didn’t give a shit who knew it. Who saw me blubber.

“Keep it together, Grunt. It’s all good,” I heard Milo say.

Despite the thunderous strains of Mendelssohn issuing from the massive organ pipes above us, my ears seemed to shut down in favor of my watery eyes focusing solely on the vision in white that appeared at the entrance arch.

If I’d called her beautiful before, those inadequate words were trapped in the vicinity of my parched throat. Wrapped in gorgeous antique satin, Harper stood under the flowery arch, a cloud of gauzy veil pinned to her expertly coiffed blonde locks, but leaving her lovely face uncovered. The superbly fitted dress hugged every voluptuous curve of her lush body, each of which I’d become intimately acquainted with in the last eight months. If you’d asked me my favorite part of her body, I’d say I loved all of them equally.

We weren’t school kids anymore. The strapless, straight neckline showed off the curved mounds of her breasts to perfection. She was a grown, mature woman now, as proud to show off her hot body as I was to appreciate it. And I did. As often as possible.

With both of us over thirty, and Jessica currently blossoming under her doctor’s care, we didn’t waste any time setting the date for this event, and Harper said she’d always dreamed of a fairytale June wedding. I couldn’t wait to get to the consummation. We’d been working on expanding our family. I stared at her taut stomach. Maybe my child already rested there. Of all the chalk-talks I’d ever been part of, asking Harper to marry me was a rock-solid game plan I didn’t hesitate to execute. A fairytale, Cinderella finish for the most important team of all.

My family.

As she strode toward me with the pool of satin train following in her wake, the heavy columns, the stained-glass windows, the pews and our three hundred guests all faded into the background. Between my teammates and Harper’s charitable contacts, employees and colleagues, the list had lengthened. But she hadn’t cared, insisting in her kind, inclusive way that everyone and anyone was welcome to share our joy.

Her brilliant smile was enough to hold me upright, dry my eyes and obliterate even the smallest complaint from my trick knee. She was my light and my strength. Always had been, and I planned to make up for all the thick-headed years I’d pushed her away, not realizing that what I needed was what I already had.

I barely noticed the priest’s predictably long and cryptic litany during the ceremony, only awakening to Milo’s nudging when a response was required from me. It all seemed a blur and was over before I knew it. After the congratulations, hugging and hand-shaking, Harper and Jess and I were all stuffed happily inside a luxury limo pulling away from the church.

“What’s Mexico like, Daddy?” Jess asked, still admiring the tiny rose petals in her bouquet basket.

Dr. Neilson and her team were so optimistic about a long-term remission, they’d given us the green light to take her on vacation. Honeymoon. Whatever. We just wanted to be together, all three of us, away from here, to appreciate all the fine gifts we’d been given. Hope. Love. Time.

And second chances.

“It’s like Paradise, sweetheart. The kind of place you want to stay forever,” I answered.

I’d been there once. Didn’t remember much except palm trees, beaches, and the ocean of booze I’d consumed. But I knew now that paradise didn’t only exist as a place. It was a state of being, and I was in it right now.

“Don’t get too comfortable with that forever idea, Mr. Matheson,” Harper said, snuggling in for a kiss. “You have a date with the camera at the SportsNet studios two weeks from today. Your new show is going to be a hit.” I’d been a color man for the past six months now and would be the host of my own weekly show.

I bestowed the first smooch of our married life together onto her familiar, dewy-soft, waiting lips.

“Thanks for setting my calendar straight, Mrs. Matheson. And my career. You’re a top-notch PR agent, swinging my first off-ice gig. Bet you’ll make a pretty good CEO someday.”

I laughed as she fired a playful swat to my chest. I gazed into two sets of gorgeous blue eyes as they both fixed adoringly on me. For a guy who thought his luck had run out along with his bank account and a chilling medical diagnosis barely a year ago, my luck had turned.

“As for forever, the only thing I thought I’d do forever was hockey,” I said, drinking in the sight of them—my wife and daughter. “But there are much more important positions I want to play. Dad and Husband to the two best girls in the world.”