CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
DEAN
July 1
“HURRY, MAN, WE’RE GOING TO BE late.” With an impatient frown, Archer holds the gray necktie out to me.
“We’re not going to be late.” I get behind him and start to knot the tie around his neck, turning him toward the full-length mirror in his and Kelsey’s bedroom.
“Have you seen Kelsey yet?” Archer asks, looking at me in the mirror.
“No, she’s up at the Butterfly House with Liv and Bella.”
I give the tie a final pull and step back. We’re both wearing gray suits and ties, and I have a flashback to the days when our mother would dress us up in suits when we were kids getting dragged along to the governor’s fancy dinners. Back then, I’d never have imagined we would be here now.
I clap a hand on my brother’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He straightens his tie and slants me a glance. “Why?”
“I mean, you’re not nervous?”
He shakes his head. “I’m too happy and relieved to be nervous.” He holds out his arms. “Can you put the cufflinks in?”
I pick up the links from the dresser and start fastening them to his cuffs.
“So, uh, I wanted to tell you I’m glad you’re marrying her,” I remark, concentrating on the task.
“I’m glad she’s marrying me.”
“You’re really good for her.” I fasten the second cuff and look at him. “I’m glad you’re here, too. In Mirror Lake. I’ve really… uh, appreciated having you around. Everything you’ve done.”
Faint surprise flashes in his eyes. “No problem.”
Before we both get embarrassed, I step back and look him over. “I guess she can’t get out of it now, huh?”
“No way will I let her.”
Archer follows me out to the kitchen, where Nicholas is at the table, eating a peanut-butter sandwich and drinking a glass of chocolate milk. His necktie is already half undone, and there’s a smear of jam on the lapel of his suit.
“Little man, you gotta look good for a wedding.” Archer reaches out to straighten Nicholas’s tie. “Neat and stuff.”
“It’s too tight.” Nicholas squirms and pulls at his collar. “Are we leaving yet?”
“Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?” I ask, grabbing a napkin to wipe the jam off his lapel.
Nicholas looks at the ceiling and sighs gustily. “Carry the pillow, walk down the aisle, do not let the rings fall off, and hand them to Uncle Archer when the guy says something about rings.”
“Awesome.” Archer gives Nicholas a high-five. “You got this.”
We go out to the driveway and pile into Archer’s truck. Patch is waiting in the backseat, freshly washed and groomed. We drive to Wizard’s Park, where Allie worked magic to set up the wedding site—glowing lanterns line an aisle strewn with flower petals, leading to an arched trellis decorated with white lights.
A chorus of chatter rises in the air from the gathered guests—Archer and Kelsey’s friends, grad students, fellow professors, garage mechanics, Wonderland café employees, and plenty of children.
I take Nicholas behind the line of trees that separates the staging area from the guests. My heart does a crazy spin at the sight of Liv—a vision of loveliness in a pale blue dress, her short hair enhancing the shape of her eyes and high cheekbones. She turns and sees me approaching, her smile hitting me right in the middle of the chest.
“Hello, my beauty.” I stop in front of her, tracking my gaze over her face. “I’d kiss you, but I’d mess up your lipstick.”
“Go ahead.” She steps closer, lifting her hands to the sides of my neck. “A kiss from you is worth any amount of messing up.”
That’s all the invitation I need. I slide my hand to the back of her head and bring my mouth down on hers, tasting all the wholesome warmth and goodness that is my wife. She parts her lips under mine. The spinning of my heart starts to go to my head.
“Daddy!”
Bella’s voice slides into our growing haze, and Liv and I slowly separate and turn toward our daughter. She’s like a perfect flower in a pale blue dress and white petticoat, her hair fastened back with a spray of bluebells.
“Hey, Snowbell.” I hold out my arms so she can hurry into them. “You’re more beautiful than the moon.”
“You look like a clown.”
Liv laughs, fishing in her purse for a clean tissue to wipe the lipstick off my mouth. She takes out a pocket mirror to fix her lipstick.
“Where’s Kelsey?” I ask.
Liv nods toward the Wonderland Café, where Kelsey is coming down the porch steps. I indicate to Liv that I’m going to meet her, then I cross the grass toward the bride.
She catches my eye and smiles. She’s in an ivory-colored dress that hugs her figure in all the right places and shows off her long legs. Without her glasses, her eyes are a piercing blue, and the navy streak in her smooth, blonde hair gives her an edgy, otherworldly look.
We stop in front of each other. I look at her face and suddenly see the wild, rebellious young woman I’d first met in college.
“You must be a lousy lay,” were the first words she ever said to me. “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”
“You look incredible,” I say. “My brother is one lucky guy.”
“I thought I’d be nervous, but I’m not.”
“That’s because it’s right,” I tell her. “So what finally made you realize you wanted to marry him?”
“It felt like something snapped inside me, but in a good way.” Her gaze flickers past me to the trellis where Archer is standing. “Like a lock. He’s been my world for so long, and knowing his loyalty and devotion, and seeing what you and Liv have gone through… what’s more important in life than committing to being a family? To loving someone else that much?”
“Nothing is more important than that.” I move closer to her. “I’m going to hug you now.”
“You’d better.”
I pull her close, and she slides her arms around my waist. Over twenty years we’ve known each other, and now she’s marrying my brother.
After parting, we walk back to the entrance to the wedding, where Liv is giving Bella and Nicholas last-minute instructions. The guitarist starts to play, signaling the beginning of the ceremony, and the guests stand.
Bella and Nicholas walk out first, with Bella clutching a bouquet of flowers and Nicholas carefully holding the rings. A chorus of “awws” and affection rises from the guests.
Liv and Kelsey exchange a hug. Liv whispers something in Kelsey’s ear before stepping past the trees and starting down the aisle.
I hold out my arm to Kelsey. “May I?”
“Lord, yes.” She slides her arm through mine. “It’s about freaking time, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say.”
A hush, expectant air fills the space, murmurs of awe rising, the guitar music playing softly alongside the breeze. Kelsey’s hand tightens on my arm the closer we get to where Archer is waiting with Nicholas at his side. I can’t help thinking that the next time I walk a woman down the aisle, that woman will be my daughter.
Kelsey and I stop at the base of the stepped platform. The officiant moves forward.
“Who presents this woman to be married to this man?” he asks, looking at me.
Something sticks in my throat and for a second, I can’t speak.
“On behalf of her family and friends,” I say, after clearing my throat, “and in honor of her parents, I do.”
I press my lips to Kelsey’s cheek. She hugs me and whispers, “Thank you.” I put my hand on her back and guide her up the steps, following to take my place beside Archer as his best man.
The ceremony is simple, with Archer and Kelsey reciting poems before exchanging vows. Not once do they take their eyes off each other. Only once do I have to put my hand on Nicholas’s shoulder to remind him not to fidget.
As Archer and Kelsey exchange rings, I look across to where my wife is standing. At the exact same instant, Liv turns her head to meet my gaze, and a warm smile curves her mouth.
And then we’re both remembering our own wedding, and the first moment we saw each other in the registrar’s office, the first time I kissed her, the first time we made love, the first time we looked at each other as husband and wife, the first time we saw our children.
After Archer and Kelsey have walked back down the aisle, Nicholas and I meet Liv and Bella beneath the arch of the trellis.
“My legs hurt,” Bella whines, shifting her feet.
I bend to pick her up. Liv takes my other arm, and a thousand more memories between then and now flood the space between us.
Nicholas attaches a leash to Patch’s collar, and the five of us start down the aisle together, past the friends who have become our family. When we reach the end of the aisle, I set Bella down. Miraculously cured from her legs aching, she runs toward a stream of kids heading away from the wedding site.
Liv calls after her, “Bella, don’t get your dress… oh, never mind.”
She reaches out to take my hand as we follow our children to the playground.
The terrace of the Wonderland Café is decorated with linen-draped tables, flowers, and glowing, multicolored paper lanterns. Allie and Liv closed the café for a “special event,” and the wedding reception lasts well into the evening—dinner, dancing, music, cake, more dancing. I don’t see much of Liv, as she and Allie bustle around watching all the kids, supervising the service, and making sure everyone is having a good time.
“May I have this dance?” I stop beside Florence Wickham, who is sitting at her table, tapping her toes in time to the music.
“Oh, of course, Dean, aren’t you lovely?” She puts her hand in mine and rises.
I lead her to the dance floor and guide her to the music of “Renegades.”
“Olivia looks so well, Dean,” she says, sorrow passing across her face. “I’m still just gutted over what she went through, but do you know, she never failed to stay in touch. She always asked me how things were in Florida, told me what was going on in town, and assured me that my plants were doing just fine. She even told me when my peace lily bloomed.”
“That’s Liv.”
“She is such a treasure, have I ever told you that?”
I can’t help smiling. “I’m sure you have, Florence.”
“Not that you need telling,” she remarks, patting my chest.
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and we look up to see Mr. Jenkins standing beside us, peering at me over the tops of his bifocals.
“I gotta cut in here, feller,” he tells me.
I wink at Florence and let her go. She smiles, giving my biceps a squeeze before moving into Mr. Jenkins’ arms.
I leave the dance floor and return to the terrace. Archer is sitting at one of the tables, his suit jacket off and his tie loose around his neck. He gestures to the empty chair beside him, and I sit down.
“When do you leave?” I ask.
“Tomorrow morning. A week on the road with just the two of us, and then we’re meeting up with the Storm Hunters crew in Kansas City.”
“What’s going to happen with the whole wedding thing on the show?”
“Kelsey agreed to the romantic storyline, but she gets full script approval and no one is allowed to use the words girly or tame.”
I grin. “Sounds about right.”
We watch Kelsey as she steps onto the dance floor with Nicholas, taking his little hands in hers as they start to dance.
Archer shakes his head in admiration. “She’s something, huh?”
“Yeah.” I reach up to loosen my tie. “You’re the only guy who’s ever figured her out. Who’s ever been worthy of her.”
I feel his surprised glance. “You think I’m the only guy who’s ever been worthy of her?”
“Well, yeah.” Uncomfortable suddenly, I look at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Archer shrugs. “Just… I don’t know. I mean, that’s good to hear, man.”
He nods to the steps of the terrace, where Liv is talking with Allie.
“The West brothers both married up, huh?” he says.
“Way out of our stratosphere,” I agree, pushing to my feet. “Hey, I got you something. Wait here a sec.”
I go into the café and get a large wrapped box out of the walk-in refrigerator. I return to Archer and plunk it down on the table in front of him.
“I guess it’s a wedding present, but more for you than Kelsey,” I tell him, sitting back down.
He pulls the blue paper off the box, his eyebrows lifting as he reads the wording on the side of the crate. Mr. Moo’s Chocolate Milk.
Archer looks at me in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“I tracked them down,” I explain. “The company moved to Humboldt County years ago, but they’re still in business. Had it shipped overnight in dry ice.”
Archer opens the box to reveal two dozen individual containers of chocolate milk. He takes two out and hands one to me. We clink them together in a toast before opening them to drink.
“Damn.” Archer takes a long swallow and lets out his breath in a sigh. “Better than I remember. I can’t believe you found them. Thanks.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrug and look out at the dance floor, working up the courage to tell my brother what I’ve felt for a while now. “Remember when you told me you’d straightened up partly because you wanted to be more like me?”
“I remember.”
“Over the past few months, I’ve realized the same thing,” I say.
“You want to be more like you?”
“No.” I throw him a look of mild exasperation. “I could stand to be more like you.”
Archer stares at me in surprise.
“I know for a lot of years I didn’t think you’d amount to anything,” I continue, rolling the milk container between my palms. “Never have I been so glad to be proven wrong. You have a… uh, a kind of intuition that I wish I had. And even though I know you’ve had it rough, you’re… well, you’re calm, you know? You know how to just go with it, to sort of let things unfold. Not to rage every time something doesn’t go the way you want. It’s a great thing, man.”
Archer doesn’t respond. Embarrassment crawls up my chest. I push my chair away.
“Now we’ll never speak of this again,” I warn.
Archer blinks, a slow smile crossing his face.
“Oh, I’ll speak of it, big brother,” he says. “In fact, I might even put it on a banner and hang it outside the garage. Or hire a skywriter to write it over the lake. Or make you walk around wearing a sandwich board, shouting about how much you want to be like me—”
“Dickwad,” I mutter.
We’re both grinning as I walk away from him.
I approach Liv, who is still standing at the bottom of the terrace steps by the dance floor. I come up behind her and slide my arms around her waist, lowering my head to kiss the back of her neck.
“There you are, my beauty,” I murmur. “I haven’t seen you all night. Now I’m not letting you go. Unless Bella needs to pee, in which case I’ll have no choice.”
“Lucky for you, Marianne just took the kids home.”
“Ah. Then you are truly mine.”
“I’ve always been truly yours.”
I tighten my arms around her waist, breathing in the sweet scent of her. I love the way she leans back against me, nestling her ass up against my groin. I trail my lips over the side of her neck, her skin like satin over the arch of her collarbone.
John Legend’s “All of Me” comes over the speakers. I turn Liv to face me and pull her closer, guiding her to the music.
“Are we dancing?” she asks, sliding both her arms around my waist.
“We are, indeed.”
“We haven’t danced since Allie and Brent’s wedding,” Liv remarks.
“Really?” Now I’m surprised… and more than a little disgusted with myself for not having taken every possible opportunity over the past decade to dance with my wife.
“What kind of asshat did you marry, anyway?” I ask.
She chuckles. “The best one ever.” Her arms tighten around me. “And we’ve always just danced together in a different way.”
We dance slowly for another few beats. I lower my head to croon the lyrics into her ear.
“Hey, you have a nice singing voice.” Liv pulls back to look up at me. “I didn’t know you could carry a tune.”
“I have a lot of talents you don’t know about.”
She looks skeptical. “I thought I knew everything about you.”
“No way, baby. I’m full of surprises.”
“You’re full of something,” Liv mutters.
I slide my hands down to squeeze her rear. “Lucky for you, you have plenty of years to discover all the surprises I have in store for you.”
“Like what?”
“For your eightieth birthday, I plan to play you a romantic ballad on the bagpipes.”
“You can play the bagpipes?”
“Not yet. But for you, I’ll learn.”
She laughs. “Well, now I know the true depths of your love.”
“There’s no end to it.”
We move together for a few minutes before I ease away from her and pull back the cuff of my jacket. I take off the string tied around my wrist and unfasten Liv’s wedding ring from the knot. Liv holds out her hand and gives me a smile like the sunrise.
“Marry me again,” I say.
“I’ll never stop marrying you.”
I take her hand and slip the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.
Liv holds her hand up. I rest my left palm against hers, and we twine our fingers together until our wedding bands click. I pull her close again and settle my other hand on her hip, needing every part of her against me. Her body yields to mine, soft and perfect.
“‘You must allow me to tell you,’” I say, “‘how ardently I admire and love you.’”
“Really?” Liv looks at me in surprise. “You actually read Pride and Prejudice?”
“Finished it last week,” I say. “And I do, you know. Admire and love you. Ardently. Not to mention passionately, intensely, madly, obsessively, and blissfully.”
She smiles. “Likewise, professor. But did you like the book?”
“I did. It was funny and insightful, and I grudgingly admit I can see why Lizzy and Darcy’s romance is so popular. But Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s marriage will never equal Mr. and Mrs. West’s in love, devotion, and rock-your-world hotness.”
“Aw.” Liv squeezes my hand. “Good one.”
“I’ve got a million more,” I assure her. “And a lifetime to impress you with them.”
Her smile widens. I look into her brown eyes and see everything I’ve been so desperate for in recent months—hope, happiness, and a radiant belief in our future together. The eternity that started the moment we first looked at each other.
“I love you like milk loves honey,” she says.
I brush my lips across her cheek. “I love you like Dean loves Liv.”