The whole household grinding to a halt as my voice booms through the whole building. My dad hanging his head as his shoulders sag too.
He looks suddenly old.
Frail.
He’s quiet for a moment and I take a few breaths myself.
“Sorry Pop,” I start to say, but he stops me by holding up his hand.
“No, son. You’re right. I’ve been sticking my nose in where it’s not needed. It’s me who should be apologizing,” he says quietly.
“I’ve never even been married, not even close. And like you said, I couldn’t arrange a bunch of flowers let alone all this,” he sighs.
“I just want so much for you. And for Phoebe. Want to show you how proud I am and how much we all love you, son,” he says, looking up at me. Making me feel three inches high.
“I didn’t ask if I could help, did I son? I did, I just railroaded my way in. And for that I’m sorry. But what I’m not sorry for, Max is being the proudest, happiest man alive today. For seeing one of my son become a man and have something none of us ever did. A family of his own. A real family.”
“Oh, Dad,” I tell him, grabbing him in a bear hug and pulling him close to me.
“You are my family, you always were and always will be. Today we’re making it official and adding a few new members,” I tell him, not minding I’ve creased my suit or that he still hasn’t got his tie on yet.
“I’m sorry if I made it feel like you weren’t helping, I just want everything to be perfect for Phoebe, to show her how much I love her. How special she is, how much she deserves which is way more than I deserve her,” I explain to him.
“You deserve her, Max. And she deserves you. Now let’s get you to that church before we’re late. I can let all these other people do what they need to without some old fool getting in the way,” he says, a line of silver under one of his eyes.
“I’m the fool, Dad. For not reminding you how much you mean to me, how much you’ve really given me. Made me who I am today, I tell him.
“C’mon son. Let’s go get you married,” he says, taking my arm in his as we both walk towards the waiting limo.
“Thought you’d never get here,” Shane murmurs to my dad, helping him out of the car once we reach the church.
Dad is giving Phoebe away and my oldest brother Shane is the best man.
“Any later and I’d have to marry that girl myself,” Shane jokes to me.
“How is life at the factory?” I ask him, deliberately changing the subject away from my wife to be. Remembering it was perfect timing that he appeared and in need of a job right when Phoebe quit.
“I’m only kidding little brother,” he says, punching my arm. “No way would I get between Max Bear and what’s rightfully his now, would I?” he asks sincerely.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” I tell him, shaking the hand he’s offering before he hugs me, wishing me all the best and I silently wish the same for him too someday.
Everyone’s finally in position, and with my brother at my side, I wait at the altar, only wanting to hear that organ start playing, which it finally does.
I want to turn and watch her, want to see her in her dress, and her hair and how pretty I know she must look, but I daren’t move an inch.
Not until she’s standing right next to me, and I feel her tiny hand slip into mine.
Warm and trembling a little until my fingers curl around hers.
Our own silent vows already exchanged in a single touch before either of us says a word.
Forever mine and I’m hers for life. Through the good times and the better times. And all the times we’ll share in between.
The love of my life.
My best friend and now, my loving wife.
My Phoebe.
Extended Epilogue
Two Years Later
Phoebe
“My turn,” Max mumbles, holding my arm and telling me to stay in bed as he gets up for the third, or is it fourth time tonight for little Amy?
The man’s a machine, but I really don’t mind getting up for the babies, it’s all part of the fun in having them growing up.
Our second, Peter starts to squawk, so I use that as an excuse to get up too. Trixie trotting behind me and in a few minutes it’s Max and me at the changing table in the early hours, babies gurgling as we change them before heading to the kitchen for a feed.
We’ve had plenty of practice, and it hasn’t always been so well-oiled.
Trixie sniffs and nuzzles me to make sure everything’s in order before she shuffles back to her own bed. The gray light of pre-dawn lighting the windows, as if it should mean much.