Forever Family (Forever #5) (21 page)

At first, I couldn’t make anything come out with Jenny watching, but she noticed and turned away. Then she turned on the water faucet.

When the stream hit the stick, panic coursed through me again. Why was I doing this now? I needed Gavin. I needed to think.

I wouldn’t look.

I capped the end and set it aside. By the time I had washed my hands, I was positive I’d done the wrong thing. “I’m going to head home,” I told Jenny. “I don’t want to know anything right now.”

Jenny frowned and hopped off the cabinet. “Okay, Corabelle. I’m sorry. I thought it would be fun.”

I headed to the living room and picked up my bag. “Those stars should be dry tonight. It doesn’t take long, but watch for any wet spots.”

Jenny’s face contorted like she was going to make a remark about wet spots, but I shot her a glare. She sobered up and shifted Phoenix on her hip. “I won’t look, Corabelle. I’ll just toss it.”

I shrugged and headed for the front door. “You have a place to stash the stars? We don’t need them for weeks.”

“I do. Thanks for coming over to help,” she said.

I waved good-bye and walked to the car. I would put the pregnancy test from my mind. In a few days, if I didn’t get my period, Gavin and I would test together.

The day was warm and breezy. Spring was well underway and school would be out in a few weeks, although I was staying on through the summer. I had been doubling up and would finish my master’s degree in record time. I had only a few classes to go and then my thesis. Hopefully my professors would recommend me, and I could start teaching as an adjunct next year. I had the experience as a TA already.

My future was coming.

I pulled out my phone and called Gavin. Rosa was supposed to let him know today if she could make it to the States. We had lots of plans for things to do with Manuelito, and focusing on that would help take my mind off pregnancy tests and trying-not-trying.

He picked up on the second ring. “Did you hear from Rosa?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Looks like we’re on for June. Just in time for the wedding.”

“I’m so glad, Gavin. It will be good to see him.”

I heard footsteps behind me. I turned. Jenny was coming at me in a full sprint, Phoenix bobbing on her hip.

“Corabelle! Corabelle!” she shouted.

“Hold on, Gavin, Jenny’s running at me. We’ve been making Tina’s wedding stars.” I turned to her. She’d arrived, breathing hard.

“What is it?” I asked.

She held out the stick. “I lied. I looked.”

I took it from her.

Faint, just barely there, was a thin red line next to the control line.

“Two lines,” she said. “It’s there.”

My knees gave out and I sat on the grass by the curb.

“Corabelle,” Gavin said through the phone. “Everything okay?”

I couldn’t find my voice just yet. I would in a minute. I stared at the stick. I could see everything in that pale, pale line. My future. My fear. My love.

But mainly, I saw hope.

Chapter 27: Tina

I had definitely picked the perfect spot for the wedding.

The air was salty and a gentle breeze stirred the stars Corabelle had repainted from Jenny’s shower. The arch was almost invisible, white against the white clouds. Beyond it, the sea stretched into the horizon, as if infinity itself was in attendance.

In the dozen or so chairs angled toward the cliff’s edge were all the people who mattered. Corabelle and Gavin, Manuelito on his lap. Jenny and Chance, who was jiggling Phoenix to keep her quiet. Stella.

Layla sat in the back row with an empty seat we had reserved in memory of Albert. I bit my lip for a moment, trying to rein in my emotions. Jenny would kill me if I messed up her careful makeup job.

I took a few steps back so I was hidden behind a bush. My father and I waited at the top of the trail for Darion’s little sister to arrive, signaling that Darion and his father were in place. The breeze stirred the gauzy skirt of my dress, lifting the lightweight fabric so that it brushed my knees.

I looked down at my stockings, the gold and silver stripes so subtle that it appeared my legs were simply white. I passed the bouquet of pastel roses to my father for a moment so I could straighten the crazy complicated bodice of the dress, a million seed pearls sewn onto a corset. It gave me the illusion of having boobs and made a nice straight line over my just-starting-to-pop belly. I assumed the boobs would come later or Junior was going to be seriously malnourished.

The pregnancy was going fine. Now that the second trimester had begun, I felt a lot less sick. The cervical stitch was in, a little wire loop that kept things shut tight until it was time to deliver. I was calm. Well, as calm as anyone could be on their wedding day.

“You look perfect,” Dad said. “Never a bride any prettier than you.”

I gave him a nervous smile and took the bouquet back. He tucked my hand inside the crook of his arm.

Darion’s nine-year-old sister, Cynthia, popped out from behind a bush. “Time to go!” she said. She was adorable and pixie-like in her vivid blue dress.

I peered back down the trail. She was right. The JP was in place under the arch, and Darion and his dad were just walking up to stand beside him.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

“Right here!” she said, picking her way down the trail. “Had to pin the boutonniere on your boy!”

My heart squeezed that she was standing in at least a little for Darion’s mom, who had died so many years ago. “Thank you.”

“I’m so excited!” she said. “I never got to be a maid of honor before! And here I am, at my ripe old age.”

“You’re not old, Mom,” I said. “And you look great.”

“Thank you for not going with a pastel,” she said. She swished the skirt of her sapphire dress. “I’m going to go out dancing in this number.”

“You’ll knock everybody’s socks off,” Dad said.

Mom blushed.

“The officiant is waving at us,” Dad said. “I think it’s time.”

Cynthia jumped in the air with excitement. “I’m going!” She struck out down the trail, picking flower petals from her basket and dropping them in the dirt.

Mom waited a few moments, then followed her.

Dad squeezed my arm. “This is one of the happy days,” he said. “Savor as much of it as you can.”

“I will, Dad,” I said.

As we headed up the trail, the solo violinist began to play, a lovely sweet song that Darion’s mother had written when he was young. It had words, but we didn’t ask anyone to sing. Cynthia had said she’d be too nervous.

But when we arrived at the chairs, I realized she had changed her mind, because she was standing by Darion, belting out the chorus.

Love is tender, love is tough

Don’t ever think you’ve had enough

I bent to kiss the top of her elaborate hairdo and stood to one side of her as Dad left me to go sit in the chairs. When the song ended, Darion gave her a hug and whispered, “Thank you.” She moved into her place between him and their father.

I passed my bouquet to my mom and turned to Darion. This was it.

He looked amazing in a traditional black tux with a tie that matched my mother’s dress. The breeze ruffled his dark hair. My stomach fluttered. I was getting
married
. Me. This was crazy.

I must have looked uncertain, because Darion took my hands and lifted them both to his lips. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Besides, you can probably have it annulled tomorrow.”

The JP, who had taken in a deep breath to start the ceremony, let out a gush of air instead. “Really?” he asked.

I laughed. “I’m a little gun-shy,” I said. “But I think this one is going to stick.”

The JP looked back and forth between us for a moment, as if waiting to see if we were really going to do this. When neither of us made a run for it, he said, “We have gathered here today for the marriage of Tina Schwartz and Dr. Darion Marks.”

I lifted an eyebrow at the “doctor.” Darion tilted his head in his father’s direction. I nodded in understanding and rolled my eyes. Titles. They were important to the senior Dr. Marks.

The JP cleared his throat. We both snapped to attention. We hadn’t heard a word he had said.

“You are supposed to be repeating after me,” he said.

“Sorry,” Darion said. “I couldn’t take my eyes off my wife.”

The guests tittered.

The JP began again, “I, Darion, take Tina to be my lawfully wedded wife,” he said.

Darion gripped my fingers. When he met my gaze this time, my breath caught with his intensity and emotion. “I, Darion, take Tina to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“To have and to hold,” the JP said.

“You know,” Darion said, and everyone laughed again. “I think I can handle this part on my own. Is that all right?”

The JP smiled and stepped back. “By all means.”

My heart smashed against my chest. What was he doing?

Darion took a step closer.

“Tina Schwartz, I promise to pay attention to you and to recognize when you need space, or time, or a new canvas, or more cerulean blue oil paint because you’re stealing all of mine.”

I had to smile. It was true. I always ran out of that color first.

“And I’ll give you it,” he said. “And if I can, I’ll see it coming and give it to you before you even know you need it. Because you are something incredible, beyond anything or anyone I’ve ever known. And the work of your hands, because it comes from the understanding in your heart, is going to speak to people. And I want to be the person who helps you get there.”

I felt dumbstruck. He had spoken to my hopes and my fears all in one. He knew what I wanted before I could even form the words myself.

“I will also change diapers,” he said with a huge, beautiful grin.

“Get it in writing,” Jenny said from her chair, elbowing Chance. Everyone burst into laughter.

I let go of him to wipe a tear from the corner of my eye and took his hand again. He looked down at me with earnestness and love.

“And I, Tina Schwartz, take you, Dr. Darion Marks, to be my lawfully wedded husband, and not just because you knocked me up before we could tie the knot.” I waited out the laughs.

“But because you know me better than I know myself. You see in me the things I have not dared to stare in the face. Because you are the best thing to ever happen to me. And because I’ve gone without you and I never want to have to do that again.”

He lifted my knuckles to his lips.

The JP stepped back. “Do we have rings?”

Cynthia jumped forward. “I do!” She dug around in her basket and produced a small silk bag. “In here!”

Darion released me to take the sack from her. He opened it and let the wedding bands fall into his palm. He handed them to the officiant.

“This is the easy part,” the man said. He gave the smaller ring to Darion. “Place this on her finger and say, ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’” He hesitated. “Unless you have more to say.”

Darion’s strong hand lifted mine. He caressed my finger before sliding the band onto it. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

I took the band from the officiant and reached for Darion. His hands were warm. I slid the ring onto his finger. “With this ring, I thee wed,” I said.

“By the power vested in me by the State of California,” the JP said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Tina, you may kiss your husband.”

This got another laugh.
 

Darion held my hand against his heart for a moment, just watching me. I remembered that day we came here and I envisioned the painting of me and Peanut. I’d been obsessed with the need to capture that feeling, the emotion that surged inside me thinking about what it would be like if he were with me. The urge to paint my emotions was strong whenever I was moved to feel something bigger than myself.

Everything that had happened to me since he died, the anger at my parents, the escape from Houston to art school, the one-night stands, the urgency to always move on, had all come from that one day my life had fallen apart.

Albert knew this too. He’d gotten stuck, endlessly painting clowns that made him famous but never let him get past his one terrible heartbreak.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

I knew now I would never finish that painting on the cliff. I had a new memory here. This day with Darion. I pressed my hand against my belly. I would not get stuck. I would move forward. I would never forget Peanut. That wasn’t possible. But I wouldn’t let that one tragedy, no matter how great, define me. I was more than that. I had so much more life to live, endless paths to explore.

I got it now. Happily ever after wasn't a destination at all.

It was a journey.

Darion had waited long enough for his kiss, and he leaned in to brush his lips against mine. I could hear the cheers from everybody I loved and who loved me, right there on this cliff.

The wind picked up, and Darion’s finger touched my cheek. I pulled back from him, just an inch, and looked up into his eyes. My future was right in front of me.

I took his hand and led him to the edge of the cliff, a few feet beyond the arch. Like our wedding vows, this part wasn’t scripted. There was no repeating other people’s words, other weddings’ sentiments. This moment was all our own.

I grasped the shell necklace and pulled hard, snapping the fragile chain. Darion frowned, lifting his hand to catch it. “You broke it,” he said.

I nodded. I held the locket in my hands. Below, the ground fell away to the sea, waves crashing below. I felt I knew every boulder and tree after attempting to paint it so many times.

My fingernail slid into the locket’s clasp and flipped it up.

Darion knew what I was doing and cupped his hands beneath mine. I flicked the locket open and the wind caught the ashes.

They spiraled up a moment, just a puff against the open sky. Albert and Peanut, airborne, a soft cloud against the Blick Cerulean Blue.

Then, just as quickly, they dissipated, disappearing into the light. Gone.

Darion’s hands tightened on mine. Behind me, Corabelle came up and placed her arm around my shoulders. Then Jenny. Then my mom. Then Layla.

We looked out onto the sea from the cliff. The violin played again, a gentle tune, and I knew, without a doubt, that I was ready for whatever came next.