He took Preacher’s hand too.
“Now, I never, ever expected you two to fall in love, but I did expect you to challenge and teach each other. But once I saw you together, I knew this was right. You balance each other. You are two of the best people I have ever known, and I am so happy to have played a small part in bringing you together. I wish you many, many years of happiness and love.” He pressed our hands together so that we faced each other. “Now, for the official part, do you take this woman to be your bride? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“I do,” Preacher called out.
“And you my dear, do you take this man, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“I do,” I said through the tears that were starting to fall.
“Then I pronounce you man and wife.”
He smiled wide at us both.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Preacher pulled me close, then made a big show of looking over his shoulder. He sighed in relief. And then he was kissing me. The wind picked up, blowing our hair around as our mouths molded to each other. It was wild and free, just like my husband.
“Now, let’s party,” Paul said as the guests cheered. I was introduced to them one by one, mostly the local fishermen and their wives, as well as some people who owned businesses in town.
I noticed the older woman who owned the bar in town wiping her eyes repeatedly. When we were introduced, she hugged me tightly and said, “Such a shame. Such a good customer.”
I was laughing as Preacher dragged me away to sit on a folded beach chair and eat food cooked over the fire.
It was the best night of my life. A long life together, God willing. A life filled with children and friends and family.
We had three, I realized. Not our own tiny family that we were just starting to build. His club, and the other clubs he was an honorary member of, the community surrounding the church back in Portland, and these good people here.
We were more than blessed.
We were loved.
Nine months later
Preacher
“Stop wiggling,” I whispered to the bundle in my arms. “I need to focus.”
Rose ignored me, her little face scrunching up to prepare what promised to be an epic wail. My angel had big lungs, I had learned in the past few perfect, beautiful, amazing weeks. I was supposed to be speaking, but I needed my little fairy to settle.
“I’ll take her, Preacher,” Marcus said. I handed the baby over and patted his shoulder.
“Thank you, Son.” He smiled at me, looking sharp in his brand-new suit. “You ready for this?”
He nodded.
My wife took her place with us at the front of the church and waited.
“Thank you for coming. Today marks a momentous occasion. I was lucky enough to become a father once, just a few weeks ago. But today, I become a father again.”
I smiled at Marcus.
“Actually, you’ve been my son for a long time, but the paperwork just came through this week. Now it’s legal, and today, we are acknowledging and celebrating that we are, once and for all, a family. Son, we will be there for you for the rest of our lives. Anything you need, any worry, any fear, any joy or sorrow, is ours to share. We are honored to call you our son and big brother to little Rose.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. Cynthia pulled him close, making the baby squeak in protest. I laughed and hugged all three of them.
The church was packed, though not quite as packed as our wedding. There was still a respectable showing of leather. In fact, a good number of the guys came down here to visit and to help out with our neighborhood restoration program.
It was going well. It was all going very, very well.
Even Marcus’s aunt had gone to rehab. Her son was still running wild, but it was a start. We hadn’t given up on him, either.
The boy didn’t exactly apologize, but he never said another bad word to Clarice or to me.
Hell, the kid nearly melted into the sidewalk whenever I walked by.
And Marcus had confided in me that he’d thrown away his gun.
Yes, things were looking up around here.
The garden was blooming, and we always had volunteers in there planting and pruning, and we were even working on three different complementary murals for each of the brick walls. That is where we headed as the church emptied out to celebrate.
Aunt Julia was there, the dance crew, all the garden helpers, and some I didn’t recognize. In fact, every week, there were new faces in the pews. The church was blossoming and the community with it.