Page 119 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
Three
I’m pacing around outside yet another door—waiting for Sara—again. Except this time, my heart’s so packed with happiness, I feel like all four chambers are about to burst. The thing is, Sara’s bladder felt the same way. That’s why she’s in the bathroom now with Nella and Bristol.
They’re helping her pee.
Apparently that’s hard to do in a wedding dress.
The brand-new Mrs. Fuller and I have been married just long enough to take pictures outside the church, then caravan over to the reception along with the rest of the wedding party. Doing the math, that means we took our vows about an hour ago, but Ifeellike I’ve loved this woman forever.
It took us a decade, but everything worked out. Sara and I are right where we’re supposed to be.
Minus the bathroom wall.
In the lobby, enormous double doors open, sending a gust of wintery air toward the registration desk. The entrance is dripping with colored lights. Christmas music spills across the way. I’m inthe hall that separates the rest of the inn from the Tavern. Our guests are already inside the main room waiting for us to start the reception.
According to the seating chart my bride labored over, our groomsmen—Mac, Brady, and Kenny—are at Table Two with their wives. Ford was with them, last time I checked, with an empty chair reserved for Bristol beside him. She’s the maid of honor. Ford’s my best man. They’ve been eyeing each other since she got to Abieville.
Not that it matters, but Sara and I approve.
“There you are!” My mother slips through the Tavern door and joins me in the hallway. “Where’s my beautiful daughter-in-law?” She picks a bit of dust off my coat and adjusts the red rose in my lapel. “Everybody’s waiting for the DJ to introduce the happy couple.”
Everybody.
Man, I love the that word. I love the people. Almost as much as I adore my bride.
“We’ll be in soon. Sara just needed a minute.” I nod at the bathroom, and bite back a laugh at the thought of a single wedding dress requiring three people to navigate. “How are things going at Table One?”
“Oh, just lovely.” My mother’s smile is warm, if a little on the crooked side. “The Hathaways have been telling everyone the Christmas tree here at the inn rivals the one in Rockefeller Plaza.”
I cock a brow. “They actually said that?”
“They did.” My mother shrugs. “I think theymightbe exaggerating. But they do mean well.”
“Yeah, they do,” I say. And I really believe that.
“Katherine also filled us in on the many,manypreparations for this year’s big Hathaway Gala.” My mom smooths her hands down her floor-length dress. “She also said this would be perfect for the occasion.”
“She’s right, Mom. You look beautiful.”
“Well.” She presses a hand to her cheek. “Thank you, but today’s not about me. And the gala isn’t either. Speaking of which, I’m glad they pushed the date until after your honeymoon.”
“Yeah. Me too.” I bob my head. “There’s talk about moving the event permanently, so Christmas Eve and Sara’s birthday can be separate from the fundraiser, but that’s a big ship to steer into a new direction.”
“Either way, it’s a wonderful cause, and we’ll be thrilled to attend.” Her nose twitches. “Well,I’llbe thrilled. Your father’s not so sure he wants to put on a tux again.”
This pulls a laugh out of me. “Tell Dad he’s gotta get some use out of that thing until Nella and Carver finally get their act together and get married.”
My mother squawks, then lowers her voice. “From your lips to God’s ears.”
Just then, the bathroom door flies open, and Nella and Bristol scurry out into the hall. They’ve got their hair up in matching twists, and their satin dresses shine.
“Everything all right in there, ladies?” I peek over their heads as the door slowly shuts behind them. “With the dress … and … the rest of it?”
“Sara’s coming,” Nella says. “She just has to reapply her lipstick.”
“Yeah.” Bristol snorts. “Someonekeeps kissing it off.”
We all chuckle at this, but the way Bristol and Ford have been getting along, I get the feeling she might be losing some lipstick herself tonight.
