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But I am.
It’s actually a nice break, to stand her at the taps, pulling a beer nice and slow so it doesn’t fizz up.
Delilah hip-checks me just as I get the glass full. “Get out of here, Groom! You’re on the other side, tonight.”
“My best man’s glass was empty. Figured I’d help him out.”
“How’s he holding up tonight?”
I check down the bar, to where Randy’s currently holding his phone out to one of Gemma’s co-workers, Teagan. “About as good as you could expect, for a newly divorced guy at a wedding. He’s been trying to get chicks by showing off pictures of Mopsey.”
“Good for him.” Delilah sets a bottle of whisky down on the table and surveys the crowd as she readies a few shot glasses. “Your sister sure seems to be warming to this place.”
I follow her gaze and spot Carly over at a table near the dance floor. She’s all smiles. I’d take a minute to appreciate the fact that she hasn’t once referred to this place as a ‘dive’ today, except I get distracted.
My wife is next to her.
Mywife.
Gemma’s beyond beautiful today. White strapless gown, with her hair swept up. Long, sparkly earrings trail down toward her shoulders.
She’s listening intently to something my father, across the table, is saying.
How did I get this lucky?
When I was a teenager, Gemma was over at our house a lot. On the days she didn't come by, I sometimes wanted to see her so badly that I’d make up an excuse to go over to her house. When her mom or dad opened the front door, I’d offer to mow their lawn, or I’d ask for a tool that my dad didn’t have in the garage.
All I really wanted was to catch a glimpse of her.
Then I would—and my whole day would be better.
Now, I won’t ever have to make up an excuse to see her. I’ll get to wake up next to her every morning.
I try to keep my smile under wraps as I deliver the beer to Randy and clap him on the shoulder. The guy’s getting over his break with Lydia, and I hate to rub my good fortune in his face.
But I let my grin free as I amble over to the table where Gemma and my family are seated.
I grip my dad’s shoulder and give it a squeeze. “Hey. What’s going on over here?”
“Your dad says he has a special card for us,” Gemma says, before flashing a quizzical look my father’s way.
“How about this,” my dad proposes, as he pushes his chair back. “You two come with me. It’s over in my coat pocket. I didn’t want to put it in the pile with all the others…”
Gemma shoots me a puzzled look as we follow my dad toward the coat rack. It’s a silent question: do I know what this is about?
I shrug. No clue.
When we reach the thick row of coats, Dad pulls his parka off the hook and rummages in an inner pocket. He hands the card to Gemma.
She checks in with me again with her eyes before tearing it open, but I have no insights to offer, so I shrug a second time.
Whatever my dad’s up to, it’s big.
He rocks back on his heels and hums along to the song playing. He’s pleased with himself, that’s for sure.
Gemma scans the interior of the card. “Mitch! You don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. You fulfilled your part of the bargain, Gemma. You found my wayward son here a fine, stable wife. More than that. A brilliant and beautiful wife. Now, I know you’re taking it easy, as far as work goes. But I watched you grow up and if I know you like I think I do, you’ll be back to it with gusto, one of these days. So I want you to have this handy, when you’re ready to take the company online like you talked about, whenever that may be.”
