Page 89 of Rebel Moon

“I have Ivy and Jack’s permission to share a little about the Moon family. When I met Stella I was a single man, new to Montana, wearing Italian loafers and a suit, having been transferred to work at the local bank. She was a mother of five beautiful boys, trying to save her family’s ranch. I fell in love with all of them, and I thank God every day they felt the same way about me. When Stella and I married, I made a promise to her and our boys. I thought it was appropriate to share today.” He gave a dramatic pause. “Like many of you in this room, my family came to me not from blood but from love. I made a commitment to our boys to live or die by the essence of SLURFPIG.”

A few people laughed.

“I know, it sounds like some kind of deranged farm animal,” Jasper said. “But it’s actually a promise I made, and I think Ivy and Jack are prepared to do the same today. SLURFPIG stands for: Support. Love. Understanding. Respect. Family. Protection. Inclusion. Growth.” He let each one land in the cold air.

“We raised our boys with the understanding that in our home we lived or died by the rules of SLURFPIG. In other words, we made sure they knew where they belonged. With us and their brothers, no matter what might come our way. It’s also been a source of guidance in our marriage. There is nothing we cannot face together, with SLURFPIG as the foundation.

“No matter what happens, for better or worse, if you bring those eight words into your marriage and the family you’ll build together, you’ll always know the answer to any question or conflict that arises. These are words to hang on the wall of your home, preferably the kitchen because that’s where everyone always ends up, as a reminder of the promise you’re making today.”

He looked around the gathering. “I’ve seen a family this month. A group of people who found one another through their love of music. I’ve been impressed by the friendships and the love you all share, so I know it’s not too much to ask that everyone in this room commit to supporting this couple in the manner of SLURFPIG. If you agree, say it back to me now.”

Everyone shouted SLURFPIG.

“Luci’s going to read from another source of inspiration for how to live—the Bible. Somewhat better known than SLURFPIG.”

More chuckles.

Luci came up in her wine-red dress and her faux fur, looking as pretty as I’d ever seen her, and that’s saying something. Her hands trembled slightly as she looked down at the notecard in her hand.

“Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience,” she read. “Bear with each other and forgive one another.” Her voice wobbled, but she pushed through. “And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

She folded it back up and looked at her brother a second before she stepped down. I swear I saw their entire history in that look—the two of them and their mama in a trailer a long way from here struggling to make it through another day, only to be here now. Perhaps better for it because it made them appreciate this moment and all the ones to come.

Jasper continued. “Now I figured these two songwriters would want to say a few words to each other, but I was wrong. Turns out they’re too shy to speak in front of you all.”

That got a big laugh. But I could see from Jack and Ivy’s expression it was true. This was too big. Too important.

Jasper turned first to Ivy. “Ivy James, do you promise to always love Jack, to approach anything in your marriage or life with understanding and respect. To put family first, to protect each other and those you love? To be inclusive in your hearts and homes of those who are different than you? And, finally, to grow together?”

“I do,” Ivy said.

He repeated the questions to Jack.

“I do.” Jack dabbed at the corners of his eyes.

“And now we will have an exchange of the rings,” Jasper said.

Rhett dug them out of his pocket and handed them to the bride and groom, who put them on each other’s fingers under the guidance of Jasper.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Montana and in front of everybody here who loves you—I pronounce you husband and wife. Jack, please kiss your bride before she freezes in this weather.”

Jack took Ivy’s face in both hands and kissed her as the crowd erupted with cheers and claps.

Through the speakers, Jack and Ivy’s voices rang out in the chill of the Montana afternoon, singing the song that had brought them together—“Finally Home.” I happened to catch a glimpse of Hunter Sloan, who had co-written it with Ivy. He looked like a proud papa. His wife, the famous romance author, Seraphina Sinclair, had a tissue in hand, but seemed to have forgotten to use it, as tears ran down the sides of her face.

Jack and Ivy held hands in the first moments of their marriage, her veil flying sideways in the wind, and turned to us. Our whole crowd stood up and hollered like it was a show, not a wedding.

I found Madeleine, drawn to her like a bee to honey, and took her in my arms. “I missed you,” I said.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I missed you too.”

“You look stunning. It’s almost a crime.”

“Thank you. You clean up pretty good yourself.”

“May I escort you to dinner?” I asked, offering her my arm.

“I would be honored.”