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“Then I guess you have a lot of questions to ask her. And she’s right there. Believe me, delaying something you truly want never works out the way you hope it will. You won’t forget her. You haven’t for twelve years. You’ve turned into this sullen bastard instead of the brother I remember from long ago.”
“Boys, help me bring these desserts out?” Mom interrupts us, and I watch as Liam clams up both verbally and emotionally.
My brother’s need for answers, or maybe closure, is dire, but I can’t be the one to fix this for him.
“Sure, Ma. Be right there,” I say, rising.
Our mother is just as busy as ever, but I know she likes it. Unlike Dad, who needs a break from the stress of the restaurant, Mom feeds on the local gossip, camaraderie, and cheer here. Most nights, you can find her and Cassandra up front, chumming it up at the hostess stand as they greet diners. It has taken some time for the locals to accept her as one of their own, but she’s slowly becoming a familiar face.
Good thing my mother’s acceptance is worth its weight in gold in Hope Crest. If she loves you, everyone does.
As for her own mother, Cassandra hasn’t seen much of her. She drove down a month ago to see our new house in its demolished state, tried to pitch Cassandra on a script she’d been sent, and then got pissed when Cassandra reiterated the only acting she’ll be doing is with her little ones at the playhouse during improv sessions. I could tell it miffed my wife, but she isn’t hurt by it like she used to be. She has our family now, and we hold more than enough overbearing love to fill a lifetime.
She and Wilson are currently hard at work with the high school students who pay for private lessons. The production for spring at the school isThe Lion King, and Cassandra talks about little else than how spectacular the two leads are going to be.
After delivering desserts to some of the tables and stopping for idle chitchat, I track down my wife.
“You ready to go?” I palm her cheek by the drink station and notice the way she looks a little bit green around the gills. “You feeling okay?”
“No, I just puked in the bathroom.” But she’s smiling, so I know she’s nothing but happy that the pregnancy is making her sick. “Hey, did you tell Nonna, by the way? She keeps winking at me.”
I chuckle, bending to press my lips to hers even if she does have bad breath. “Nonna is like a psychic, babe. She probably knew you were pregnant before we did.”
Cassandra gasps. “Great.”
“Don’t worry, she won’t tell anyone. She’ll probably just make thinly veiled comments about old wives’ tales until we come clean.”
Cassandra snuggles into my chest, and I hold her tight. “Take me home and feed me saltines.”
“I want nothing more.”
And the truth is, I don’t.
It has only been three months since our wedding, but I feel like my love has grown exponentially. I didn’t even know that was possible because I thought I loved her so much then. Just about ninety days, and I am more in love with Cassandra than I ever had been before. Waking up with her, talking about things like merging finances, who would cook what for dinner, how we’ll split our weekend plans between being alone or meeting up with friends or family … it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.Sheis everything I’ve ever wanted.
A love like the one I’d seen my grandparents and my parents have. The one I’d been searching for but could never seem to get right.
Not until her. The woman who checks every box, even the ones I didn’t know existed.
We’ll go on living in our small town, among the people who love us most. Just us, the river valley, some incredible pizza, and pretty soon, our baby. A physical representation of our love.
That is the true happily ever after I’ve been waiting for.
* * *
