The Christmas Wedding - James Patterson [52]
Tom left early but not before he came and gave both Marty and me high-fives and congratulations. “I was second, right?” he said.
“Tied for second.”
Lizzie and Mike waited for the crowd to disperse before they walked over to Marty and me. I was pleased to see color in Mike’s face, and while I couldn’t say that there was a spring in his step, he seemed to be walking okay and definitely to be feeling better. Leave it to Emily to know we needed a doctor in the family, her Bart.
“Thank you both for everything,” Marty said.
“I didn’t do much,” said Mike with a shrug. “All I really did was stay alive.”
Lizzie gave him a slap and said, “How long can I stand this gallows humor?”
“A long time, I hope,” said Mike.
“We’ll come by tomorrow to pick up Tallulah—late morning,” Mike said.
“Make that early afternoon,” said Marty.
“Oh, you crazy newlyweds!”
Seth and Andie stood talking to Claire and Jacob. Then they all walked over to say their good-nights.
“It was a nearly perfect wedding,” Jacob said with a grin. “You missed by some whiskers.” Damn, he was funny. I hoped this wouldn’t change anything between us. I didn’t think it would. Jacob was a big-picture guy, after all.
Finally Andie and Seth were the only ones left besides Marty and me—the four newlyweds.
Andie took my hands in hers. “Thank you so, so, so, so much, Gaby. You’re always so generous.”
I laughed. “What’s an extra wedding or two?”
“I’m going to grab our knapsacks, and then we’re heading back to Boston,” Seth said.
“Don’t drive all that way now,” Marty said. “Stay the night.”
“No,” said Andie. “We’re so hyper we couldn’t possibly go to sleep.”
Then Seth said in a loud whisper, “Plus, I reserved a suite at the Copley Plaza.”
“You didn’t,” shouted Andie.
“I did.” A pause. Then Seth said, “I love you, Mom.”
I nodded. “I love you too. My favorite son.”
Moments later Marty and I turned and surveyed the empty barn. A chicken squawked. An owl landed on a rafter. Everything was as it had been—except it was still Christmas, and Marty and I were married.
He took my hand. Then he kissed me softly on the lips, and he was a really terrific kisser. Gentle and firm and just right. Part of his charm, part of the attraction.
“You know, it’s late,” he said.
“I know.” But we didn’t head for the house right away. Instead, I rested my head on his chest and Marty started to hum our song, “The Way You Look Tonight.”
And we danced in the magical glow of the twinkling lights, and I couldn’t have been happier. Believe it or not, that happens sometimes.
GABY’S LAST VIDEO
Obviously we’re home from our whirlwind honeymoon. I’m happy to report that it was perfect, just perfect. I assume you all remember this handsome man seated to my left.
And yes, Paris, Rome, Florence, and Venice are as beautiful as they were when I visited them the year I got out of college.
Anyway, it’s good to be home. Marty agrees. I’m back to school tomorrow, and I hope that substitute teacher taught Moby-Dick these past couple of weeks. I never could stand that long-winded tome, though I admire it.
Well, it looks like a few important things happened while Marty and I ran around Europe. It all sounds good or almost good.
First, and most important, there’s Mike. He’s working at the hardware store four days a week. He told me that he takes weekends off because he’s still not strong enough to face all the do-it-yourself people who show up on Saturday to ask a million questions. Beyond that, he had two MRIs last week, and things look promising. The doctors won’t use the word “remission” yet, but they said they might use it if the next MRI looks the same. I’ll assume that those candles I lit in Notre Dame Cathedral helped at least a little.
Down in New York, Emily took about an hour off for vacation, then immediately got a job working for the state attorney general, investigating Medicaid fraud. All I can say is that I hope her husband, the eminent neurologist, watches his step when he sets up practice. Emily