Page 157 of Headstrong Like Us
“Okay…” She sips water, eyes widening more. “Should I be nervous?”
“No.” I rest my boot on a wooden bench. Casual, but my pulse cranks a notch. I didn’t expect to be nervous.
At all.
Lily swallows more water. She seems good. Healthy, cheerful. I can’t tell if it’s because we invited Grandmother Calloway or something else, but I’m glad she’s at a better place.
How do I say this?
I comb two hands through my hair. “Okay.” I exhale a breath. “So I never had a chance to really know my mom.”
She nods firmly, listening carefully.
“And I like to think she would’ve loved me like you do. No stipulations, no requirements. Just because I exist.” My eyes burn.
Lily wipes at tears in her watery gaze and nods me on.
“I admire you, and I think you’ve raised strong as hell children, just like you are. They’re extremely lucky to have you as a mom.” I get choked up and clear my throat.
“You’re my son too,” Lily suddenly professes, tears streaming down her round face. “You know that, right, Farrow? You’re a part of this family forever.”
Fuck. I rub the heel of my palm over my cheek, tears slipping out. I swallow an emotional knot, and I just tell her, “I’d really love for you to walk me down the aisle.”
Lily nods rapidly. “Yes.” She wipes at her face. “I’d be honored.”
I smile through a glassy sheen in my eyes and hug Lily. Quietly, I tell her, “Later tonight, Maximoff is asking Lo to walk him down the aisle.”
Lily covers her eyes, overcome. “He’ll love that.”
There are wedding staples that I tossed out. Like the traditional walk-up-the-single-aisle to the groom. We make our own rules.
There are two processions on either side of seated guests. Maximoff and I are both walking.
And we’ll meet in the middle.
35
FARROW KEENE
“Open the terrace doors,”I tell Maximoff, both of us sweating in the furnace-hot bedroom. I was about to put pajamas on Ripley, but he’s a little warm. And his tears might be from the heat. Ditching the onesie, I leave him in a diaper.
Maximoff walks the length of the room, only in drawstring pants. “This isn’t against security protocol?” He unlatches the glass doors, a cool breeze immediately busting through. Drapes on the four-poster bed whoosh and swish with the gusts.
Better.
“Don’t worry about security,” I tell him. “The villas are safe.”
Just as I say the words, we hear noises distantly from outside.
“‘But…soft!” Eliot shouts tipsily and near-laughter. “What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!’”
A wave of laughs come behind him; I’m guessing from other Cobalts as he quotesRomeo and Juliet.
“‘Arise, fair sun—’” He snorts.
They all burst out, snickering.
“Keep going,” Ben laughs.
