Locked Down with Mr. Right

We got the rings, both of them tumbling off the insecure fusion Duncan was holding them on. To his credit he did manage to pick them up right quick and put them back on, so it was all good.

Waiting for the full line before partaking in our first married kiss, sealing the deal at the same time like a sexier version of a gentleman’s agreement, we actually took the opportunity for several brief but passionate pecks, square on the lips. We couldn’t seem to be able to stop once we started.

The reception looked like a carnival. White top tents dotted the green space, buffet tables and guest seating were set up in lieu of game booths. It had actually been Addie’s suggestion to have the reception at the house.

There was plenty of room, and it gave the whole affair a homier feel. I also suspected that she wanted to show her sisters exactly how well she was doing now. The entire family, including her later deceased parents, wrote her off when she took up with Dave. It was a mistake she was not going to make a second time.

“Heya handsome.”

“Clem, how is everything?”

“As well as can be expected. You know, under the circumstances.”

“Wearing a beautiful dress at a lavish party held in the grounds of an American version of a stately home?” I clarified.

“Exactly.”

“Honey, stop it,” said the beautiful girl on Clem’s arm.

“I’m Tobias,” I said, offering a hand to the newcomer.

“Allison,” she said, taking it.

“We’re engaged,” Clem beamed.

“When did this happen?”

“About a month ago. You were so busy with the adoption and pregnancy and whatnot I decided to wait for a more opportune time.”

“Like our wedding reception?” I asked, trying to make sure I had understood correctly.

“Told you!” Allison said, smacking Clem playfully.

“Alright, alright don’t rub it in,” Clem conceded.

Leaving the happy couple to their bliss, we went to find where my parents were sitting. It was kind of like looking for a particular tree in the forest. Most of the guests were of my bloodline, but it was still worth a shot.

“Honey!” Mom shouted, leaping to her feet, still quite spry for her age.

The sudden noise set Brogan off screaming as sudden noises tended to do. Before either Addie or I had time to react, Mom had Brogan out of the sling and was bouncing her back to sleep. If there was one thing my mom knew about, it was babies. Dad, as was his custom, took an interest while hanging back awaiting instructions.

“She’s good,” Duncan said.

“Practice, Dear,” Mom replied, handing back a slumbering Brogan.

The table was only a four-seater, so we had to poach a few more chairs. Everybody seated for the moment, I handed Brogan off to Addie so she could get in some baby cuddle time.

It was something we found we both liked quite a lot. I was the oldest in my family, youngest sisters being all of 15. There was roughly two years between us with some bigger gaps near the end. They named the youngest one Joy, so she wouldn’t think she was an accident. ‘Accident’ made it sound far too negative for such a wonderful thing as a new baby.

My parents strongly preferred the descriptor ‘surprise.’ Something I fully planned to do with Brogan when she was older. She really was the most wonderful of surprises, even though neither Addie nor I had really seen her coming.

“Hello, happy families,” Mercy said, taking up her seat.

“Mercy,” I said with a nod.

“Mercy?” Mom asked.

“Like Sisters of Mercy,” Mercy said.

“The hospital, not the band,” I clarified.

“I figured that, Dear.”

“Can never be too careful.”

“That’s not even the worst part,” Mercy said.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“My last name is McGee.”

“Mercy McGee,” mom mused.

“Yeah.”

“Could be worse.”

“How so?”

“Your middle name could be Strange,” Mom said.

“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Addie asked.

“Tell me what?” mom asked.

By way of response, Mercy got out her driver’s license and put it on the table in front of my parents.

“Well blow me down,” Dom said. Dad continued his tradition of stoic silence.

“I heard you had another show,” Mercy said, looking for a changed of topic.

“Of course, you did, you were at the opening,” Addie pointed out.

“What kind of show?” Mom asked, picking up what Mercy was laying down.

“Thanks to Tobias, I am finally able to live out my lifelong dream of being an artist.”

“She’s good too!” Mercy added.

“Try not to sound so surprised,” Addie teased.

“Painting?” Mom asked.

“Mostly, yes. Some illustration, too.”

“She has pictures,” Mercy said.

“How many drinks have you had?” Addie asked.

“Three,” Mercy said, holding up five fingers.

“Might want drink some water,” I suggested.

“Good idea,” Mercy said, wandering off in search of such.

“Do you have photos?” Dad asked.

“Serious?” Addie asked.

“Always,” Dad and I said in unison.

Spurred by our shared interest, Addie got out her phone and stared looking for her best examples. She had produced over a hundred pieces since things got secure with our relationship, and she continued through most of her pregnancy, which turned out to be her most productive period. She was just getting back into it and finding her groove again.