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With tears slipping onto her cheeks, Helen laughed softly. “I will.”
Unexpected relief washed through him, and Kevin pulled her into an embrace.
“I don’t know what I’m doing up here,” Brandon deadpanned. “You’re doing just fine on your own, Dad.”
Kevin straightened and stepped back, reclaiming Helen’s hands. “Make it official, son.”
A deep chuckle left Brandon’s throat, and then he began. “Mom”—he winked—“will you continue to have Dad as your husband and continue to live in this marriage? Will you continue to love him, to faithfully remain with him in all times and circumstances, good and bad, forsaking all others, until death?”
“I will,” Helen sputtered.
Kevin felt a tear leak from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t bother to brush it away.
“Dad, will you continue to have Mom as your wife and continue to live in this marriage? Do you reaffirm your constant love for her and promise to be her comfort, her confidant, her champion, and her best friend? Will you remain faithful come what may, forsaking all others, until death?”
That pesky lump had grown. Kevin swallowed it back again. “With all my heart, I will.”
Another pause stretched, and a few sniffles sounded through the otherwise hushed room. One from Brandon before he continued.
“As officiant, it is my duty to remind you, and all in hearing who have also taken these sacred vows at some point, that these commitments are not to be taken lightly. Our God has declared that what He has joined together, no man is to tear apart. As He loves, we are to love. As he sacrifices, so do we. As He is faithful to us, we are to be faithful to each other. Marriage is holy, set apart from all other relationships. It is to be kept holy. Will we all enter that vow, reminding one another of it when the time is necessary for it?”
The entire gathering of adults responded, “We will.”
Brandon nodded, and joy replaced the seriousness of his expression. “Mom, Dad, as you have proclaimed your ongoing love before the witness of this family, and have renewed your commitment in marriage, it is my pleasure to announce that you are . . . still . . . married.” He turned a warning look onto Kevin. “Without being gross about it, Dad, you can kiss your bride.”
“Oh, you know I’m gonna.” Kevin framed Helen’s face and found her lips with his own.
The groans came in quick order, but that only made him and Helen laugh as they continued to kiss.
After all, they were married. They could kiss for as long as they wanted.
Chapter Eighteen
(in which Christmas is lovely)
Helensippedonherhot white chocolate—a gift made by the sweet Jade Beck—and smiled. With plates full of apple cinnamon French toast and mugs of something hot and delicious, her grown children gathered in chairs made into a wide circle in the large gathering space of their home. In the background, a strings group played “The First Noel” from Helen’s Spotify Christmas playlist. A fire crackled cheerfully from the sunroom fireplace, and the large tree in the corner of the front room twinkled with all of its merry might.
The grandchildren—all fifteen of them!—milled from parents to kitchen to Christmas tree and everywhere else, all wearing the matching gray-and-white snowflake jammies and hats that they’d opened the night before.
Ah . . . the evening before. What a beautiful, emotional, absolutely wonderful evening it had been. After the vow renewal ceremony, the daughters went straight to work, dishing soup and pie and cleaning up messes as they went. Becca had presented Kevin and Helen with a beautiful little anniversary cake, which they ceremoniously cut and then the grandchildren devoured.
And sweet little Mack, Jackson and Kenzie’s five-year-old son, had shyly tugged on Helen’s hand. “Grans?” he whispered.
“Yes, my little Mack-truck.”
“You look very pretty.”
Helen hugged him. “Thank you, sweet boy!”
He grinned—a smile that, save Jackson’s scar on his lip—was exactly his father’s. All charming boy about to go for what he wanted. Helen braced herself.
“Do we still get Eve presents?” His little fingers twisted together while he asked.
Laughing, Helen had tucked him in close. “Absolutely! They’re the silver packages under the medium tree.” She pointed to the Christmas tree she meant—the one closest to the dining table. “Go get Reid and Lily and see if they’ll help you hand them out.”
Mack had clapped and then on a run, called, “Reid! It’s time for Eve presents!”
Certainly no one could have been surprised by the matching Christmas pj’s—she did it all the time. But they still loved them.
