Fools (Licking Thicket 3)

“You’re saying tying the knot is easy?” he asked in a voice laced with love, teasing, and promise.

“With you? Easiest thing I’ll ever do.”

And it was.

Epilogue

Tucker

9-Across: A particular state of bliss (8 letters)

“Friends, family, neighbors: I’d like to introduce you… for the very first time… to Mr. and Mr. Johnson!”

Red Johnson’s voice boomed out over the PA system, and the group of assembled Thicketeers packed into the show barn at the town fairgrounds—which was to say every living resident of Licking Thicket and even a couple of honorary Thicketeers Mal and Brooks had invited from out of town—exploded into cheers and whistles.

Meanwhile Brooks and his husband had eyes only for each other. Their gazes locked, and the pure, stunned joy on their faces as their lips met in their first married kiss spread across the whole room, blanketing us with its warmth and making everyone, from the fussy babies to the crotchety old-timers, stop and smile for a moment.

Cindy Ann gave a happy little sob before running up from the front row to throw herself on Malachi’s cornflower-blue tuxedoed back and hug the stuffing out of him. Meanwhile, Red, whose eyes had been leaking unashamedly since halfway through the service, clasped an arm around Brooks’s periwinkle-clad shoulders and shook him heartily.

“Best day,” he said brokenly, and it wasn’t clear whether he realized he was still holding the microphone. “Proudest day.”

Meanwhile, the other Johnson—my Johnson—turned around to search for me in the crowd, as he always did. When he found me standing against a pillar in the back, where I’d ended up after giving my seat to old Muriel Cribbs, he gave me a look that was half-amused and half-sentimental, as if to say, “Are you seeing this craziness?”

Oh, I was totally seeing it. Just like I saw how Brooks reached out and yanked Dunn into the group hug, and how Dunn hugged his family back, harder than anyone.

“This town,” Carter said from beside me. “Is…”

“A hoot?”

“Special,” he whispered.

I turned my head to look at him and did a double take. “Holy crap. Dr. Carter Rogers, are you crying right now?”

“No!” He sniffled. “Fuck, no. It’s June, Wright. It’s hay fever season.” He sniffed again. “But if I were, who could blame me? It’s just so beautiful. Almost makes a man wanna reconsider playing the name-hyphenation game someday. A distant someday. Maybe.”

I blinked in shock, but before I could respond…

“Name hyphenating ain’t no game, son,” Amos Nutter said, catching Carter’s comment as he and Emmaline Proud strode past. “Joinin’ your name with another person’s is a serious undertaking, whether you end up hyphenating or changing your name entirely.”

Emmaline nodded, and her pink pillbox hat swayed precariously atop her gray curls. “When Amos, here, asked me to marry him last month, I was all of a dither! I’ve been a Proud more than half my life. My children are Prouds. My grandchildren are Prouds. I’d be giving up the proud Proud legacy and becoming a Nutter in my old age.”

“And then there’s me,” Amos said, jabbing a thumb at himself. “I been a Nutter since the day I was born. At this point, I couldn’t stop being a Nutter anymore’n I could stop breathing,” he said solemnly. “I’m a Nutter to the core.”

“But we love each other,” Emmaline said, giving Amos an adoring look. “And whatever he is, I want to be.”

“Same goes, honey.” Amos patted her hand fondly. “Which was how we decided, in the end…” He shot Carter a dark look. “After thoughtful consideration, as it should be.”

I was going to regret asking, I just knew it. “So, um… What did you decide?”

“We’ll be Proud Nutters, of course,” Amos said, lifting his chin regally, daring anyone to comment. “We felt the hyphen wasn’t necessary.”

I nodded. “Of course you will be. And I couldn’t agree more.”

“Now, Carter,” Emmaline said, threading her arm through his. “You seem like a sweet boy. Have you met my grandson, Jaybird?”

“Your… I… That is to say… Jaybird Proud? The man who makes those… those vine wreaths?”

“The very one!” Emmaline said, pulling Carter away.

Carter’s eyes pleaded at me for rescue, but at the same moment a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, so I wiggled my fingers at Carter in a little goodbye wave and left him to his fate.

Carter’s eyes narrowed on my waving hand, then flared wide. “Hey, wait a minute. Is that—”

I snatched my hand down quickly.

“Way to be subtle, baby,” a teasing voice said in my ear.

“Well, hey,” I said, leaning back against Dunn’s solid strength. “If it isn’t my best best man.”

“Missed holding you,” he grunted, his nose burrowing into the little hollow behind my earlobe so he could sniff me.

I knew exactly what he meant, ’cause I’d missed being held.

Still…

“It’s only been twenty minutes,” I teased, turning in his arms. “Surely you can go that long without me.”