Page 141 of The New Place

But it’s Abbot, and of course Ned fell for him, and of course they’ve managed to end up here.

Abbot’s fingers are a little slimmer than Ned’s, so Ned reaches for the slightly smaller ring. His hands are shaking. Or Abbot’s are. The ring’s a bit tight sliding over Abbot’s knuckle, but Ned manages to work it onto his finger. Ned’s ring is tight too, and he automatically touches the band with his thumb when Abbot slides it on, wanting to spin the ring like he used to. They don’t have to keep them, if they don’t want to. They’re not really married.

Except they really are, because Pat is grinning ear to ear, and there are rings on their fingers, and the shape of the words I do still sit in Ned’s mouth.

“By the power vested in me by the form I filled out on the internet today, I pronounce you husband and husband. Go on, kiss him.”

Ned does. There’s an unfamiliar ring on his finger and a license to be signed and sent to Newbury to complete this whole show. And then the evening ahead before he can process everything that’s happened, but Abbot is a constant.

Always, Ned thinks, and puts his arms around him and kisses him. Always and forever, and that’s terrifying and wonderful and for as big a mess as this is, it makes perfect sense.

29

ABBOT

It’s late when Abbot finally unlocks his door. Baxter hurries in like always, heading straight for his bowl in the kitchen, familiar with the darkened rooms even as Abbot flicks on the light.

Ned hangs up his coat. “I didn’t pack anything.”

“You have some things here.” Abbot unzips his jacket and the ring feels odd on his hand. Heavy. He’s never worn more than a watch and the weight on his finger is a change he noticed again and again through the evening.

“Dog food?” Ned asks. “Sorry, I should have sent him back with my parents and Peggy.”

“I have some.”

“You do?”

“I thought it would be good to keep on hand.”

Ned looks up from unlacing his shoes. “Knew I married you for a reason.”

The warmth that’s sat in Abbot’s chest all evening grows brighter. “Oh, is that why?”

“That and the cake.”

“It was quite good.”

“I didn’t think Liesl could eat that much.”

“Impressive, I know.”

And their father hadn’t said anything, just watched as Liesl cut another piece for herself, larger than the previous, and then set about devouring it. Even Peggy had left the last of hers half eaten on her plate, a smudge of frosting on her cheek, when Dan had finally bundled her into her coat and carried her to the car.

The evening had been…fun. Strange, to have his father there with Ned’s family, different parts of Abbot’s life together in that one room where he used to stop for a cup of tea and today found himself married in. But enjoyable, if odd. It went by quickly until the late hour finally scattered everyone, the Coppolas back to Boston, his father and Liesl off to Chris’s and Susan’s for the night, and he and Ned shooed off to his house by Pat with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Ned catches his eye now. “Should have carried you over the threshold.”

“We still can.”

“Nah, too cold to go back outside. We’ll have to make do.”

“If only there were other wedding-night traditions we could entertain ourselves with.”

“M’gonna get Baxter a bone.” Ned jogs to the kitchen.

Ned’s murmur to the dog is familiar, as is the sound of the freezer door, and then Ned is coming back, wiping wet hands on his slacks, Baxter behind him. He trots with the bone in his mouth, his head held up, clearly proud of his treat, and when Ned points to his bed in the corner of the living room, Baxter obediently sets his bone on it before folding down around it.

“We’ll need more of those for this weekend,” Ned says.