Luke laughs. "You mean the Jelly Incident? The day we rescued Mr. Bromley from that antique railing?"
"That’s the one," Preston nods. "Do you remember what your mother said? She looked at us, covered in jelly, and basically demanded grandbabies."
"She started planning the menu," LukeLuke grins. "She assumed we were a done deal."
Preston reaches into his pocket. He pulls out two platinum rings.
"We never corrected her," Preston says quietly.
Luke freezes. He stares at the rings glinting under the chandelier light. He stares at Preston.
"Preston..." Luke whispers. "You... you bought these after the lobby?"
"I bought them the next morning," Preston admits. "While you were scrubbing the last of the jelly off your shoes. I’m a York, Luke. We calculate risk. And when Mama Ortiz looked at us and saw a future... I realized I saw it too."
He looks at Luke, his cool exterior cracking just enough to show the terrifying amount of love underneath.
"I kept them in my safe," Preston says. "Waiting. But looking at Alistair... looking at Max... I realize waiting is pointless. The chaos is here."
Luke laughs. It’s a loud, happy sound that cuts through the noise of the room.
"You’ve had rings for six months because my mom bullied you?" Luke asks, incredulous.
"Because she was right," Preston smiles, a genuine, brilliant smile. "So... why wait? We’re already here. The bar is open. The priest is drunk. And Mama Ortiz is watching."
"Yes," Luke says. "Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s make her right."
Preston slides the ring onto Luke’s finger. It fits perfectly.
"Let’s go find O’Malley," Preston says.
They walk toward the stage, hand in hand.
"Wait!" Preston shouts. "Father! Miguel! Hold the Archbishop!"
Alistair turns around. "Preston? Are you objecting?"
"No," Preston says, pulling Luke onto the stage. "We’re joining."
"Joining?" Alistair blinks.
"Double wedding," Luke announces, holding up his hand to show the ring. "We’re doing it now. Efficiency, right Max?"
Max, who is standing with me near the cake, looks at his brother. He smiles.
"Maximum efficiency," Max agrees.
Archbishop O’Malley stumbles out from behind a flower arrangement. He has a glass of wine in one hand and a piece of cake in the other.
"Did someone say marriage?" O’Malley asks.
"Two of them!" Alistair shouts. "Line 'em up, Patrick!"
"Splendid!" O’Malley beams. "The Pope is going to love this! It’s a BOGO sale on sacraments!"
We all gather on the stage.
First, Alistair and Miguel.
