Page 309 of Romeo

When Mama stepped back, she patted my cheek. “Your daddy would be proud of you.”

“That’s debatable.”

“For the woman, Jasper. I didn’t say all the other foolishness.”

There she was.

I kissed her forehead.

Behind us, Gator made a gagging sound.

Mama turned.

He immediately became interested in a chair.

The next hour belonged entirely to the women.

I had thought Gator ran the Bourbon Bar.

That illusion died quickly.

Aunt Marabella directed the Bourbon Kings to rearrange furniture with a grandbaby in each arm, while my mama held the third, until the front half of the room resembled something that could reasonably host a wedding if everyone agreed not to examine the liquor bottles too closely. Mama somehow produced flowers in quantities that made me wonder if she’d robbed a florist on the way over. White roses, magnolia leaves, greenery, and smaller blooms I couldn’t identify appeared across tables and along the bar while Devlyn directed Bourbon Kings with such obvious delight that I suspected she’d been waiting months for someone else to seize control of her husband’s kingdom.

Gator objected twice.

The first time, Marabella told him to move a table.

The second time, she asked whether he wanted her to remind everyone how long he wet the bed.

There was no third objection.

The priest remained remarkably calm through all of it. Father Benoit had known my family longer than I’d been alive and had probably seen enough La Croix weddings to understand that asking too many questions only delayed the inevitable. When I asked Mama how the hell she’d convinced him to come on an hour’s notice, she looked offended.

“I didn’t convince him. I told him.”

Father Benoit lifted his coffee from across the room. “That is accurate.”

I laughed.

Mama pointed at me. “You think that’s funny, but I brought him because I know you. If I’d left you boys responsible for finding somebody to perform this wedding, Wade would’ve dragged in a bartender with an internet certificate and called it legal.”

Gator looked up from the tablecloth he was being forced to straighten. “I know a guy.”

“Exactly.”

By then, the Bourbon Bar was full.

Not with the people I’d expected to be present when I someday got married, mostly because until yesterday I hadn’t expected someday to be this fucking evening. Bourbon Kings moved through the room carrying chairs, food, flowers, and bottles. Devlyn had music playing softly somewhere behind the bar. Aunt Marabella kept finding tasks for any man foolish enough to stand still.

It was loud.

Disorganized.

Completely fucking insane.

It felt like family.

Then Fiona came downstairs.