Page 141 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

“I, Natalie Bourne.” My voice cracks, so I pause to clear my throat. “Take you, Gabriel Woods, as my husband. I promise to love you for the rest of my life. To lift your spirits when things don’t go your way. To place an ice pack on every injury. To yell ‘asshole!’ at every opponent who makes a good pass.” That gets the snicker I was hoping for, including from Gabe.

“And to really try to learn the nuances of the trapezoid rule.” That gets a louder laugh from some, shrugs and puzzled looks from others, and a never-in-a-million-years shake of the head from Gabe.

“I promise to put up only a moderate amount of Christmas decorations.” I turn slightly to the guests and wink with the eye Gabe can’t see. “And to be by your side for every documentary about capybaras that is screened in our lifetime.”

I inhale a deep breath that trembles as it fills my chest. “But above all, I promise to love you more than I ever thought possible. To accept more love from you than I ever thought possible. And to build a life with you that is happier and more fulfilled than either of us ever thought possible.”

And now emotion swells inside me, constricting my breath so much that I have to grip his hands extra hard toget out the last few all-important words. “I love you, Gabe Woods.”

His name cracks in my throat as he tips his head to the side and sucks in his lips, looking at me with soft, glossy green eyes. The thought that my hockey tough guy might be on the verge of a tear sends a couple of my own spilling down my cheeks.

Around us, there’s a smattering of gentle applause, a fewahs and a couple of sniffs.

“Gabe,” Cecil says.

The fairy lights wrapped around the uprights of the bandstand make the sheen in Gabe’s eyes shimmer.

He clears his throat and stands a little straighter, as if getting an internal grip.

“I, Gabriel Woods, take you, Natalie Bourne, as my wife.”

There’s a hushed “Yay” from Aunt Lou behind me.

Gabe looks at the floor for a moment. “I’m not good with words the way you are, Nat. I could never write a play. I’m not good with people the way you are. When I came here I planned to spend all my time alone in my house on the hill. And I’m not a constant ball of cheery energy the way you are. I was perfectly happy to crawl into my grumpy shell and retreat from the world.”

He lifts one of my hands and kisses it. “But falling in love with you has changed every part of my existence. And it’s changed me. You came crashing into my life one year and two weeks ago as a giant bunny I thought was mugging me, covered it in more Christmas decorations than Macy’s has ever seen, shook it up like a snow globe, and turned it into a magical wonderland of love and bliss andmutual respect.”

He looks at me for a second, eyes scanning my face, and takes a deep breath that expands his broad chest.

“Even standing here now, it’s hard to believe that you want me. But as long as you’re not about to realize this has all been a terrible mistake, I promise that me and my crusty heart will take care of you until the end of time. And I promise that, henceforth, you can put up as many Christmas decorations as you like, wherever you like, and I will enjoy them.”

He swallows hard. “But above all.” The blood flow to my fingers is suddenly cut off by his tight squeeze. “I will love you for the rest of my life.”

His last few words come out as a whisper that rocks my chest and sends a couple more tears spilling from my eyes.

“Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Cecil says. “And so, it is with the power vested in me by the town of Warm Springs that I now proclaim you husband and wife. You may kiss.” He flings an arm into the air right on the beat of the word “kiss.”

Our friends and family break into applause and cheers and whistles while Gabe gathers me into his arms and presses his loving, pillowy mouth against mine, the sounds of our loved ones fading into the background as I melt into him.

“I hate to interrupt,” Cecil says, doing exactly that. “But there’s just one more thing.”

Gabe and I pull apart and look at him. In the rehearsal there was nothing after the kiss.

“The theater kids have a little something for you,” Cecil says, turning around to face the frozen pond behind him, where Abigail and Grayson are skating out. Grayson is wearing Sir Percival’s cloak over his parka, and Abigailhas somehow managed to slip away during the vows to put jeans on under her dress and don her penguin hat with Wendolyn’s veil attached to it.

The music from the speakers switches to a baroque-style orchestra as the two of them come to a perfectly synchronized stop and spin around to face us.

The guests leave their seats and gather around me, Gabe, Cecil, and Aunt Lou for the perfect view.

“We have the performance of this year’s official Christmas play tonight after the wedding reception,” Abigail says.

“But,” Grayson adds, “we have our own short interpretation of it for you right now.”

Behind them, a couple of the other kids push some familiar-looking scenery onto the ice. It’s the front of the mayor’s house from last year’s play that has now been covered in fairy lights and has Christmas ornaments stuck all over it.

Where on earth were they hiding that?

Abigail puts a rabbit ear headband on top of the veil and gets an immediate laugh. Then Grayson pulls a fake beard from his pocket and sticks it to his face. It’s a bit wonky and gets an even bigger laugh as we all see where this is going.

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