Page 85 of Doctor Daddy

EPILOGUE

BROOKE

A year later…

Angela fussed with her red bride’s maid dress. “I look like a very fashionable Mrs. Claus. Did you think this through, Brooke? Red velvet, white fur?”

“You had your opportunity to bitch about the bride’s maid dresses back when we ordered them. I believe you said, it will be a winter wonderland wedding.”

She sighed with a laugh. “I do love a good alliteration.”

“Could the gentleman in the back please move about six inches to the left. No, the other left. That’s it. Okay, everyone, I need eyes on me.” The photographer had spent the last thirty minutes ordering us around. I guess that’s why Mom and Dad were paying them the big bucks.

I was married. Only it felt like I was playing dress-up and statue at the same time. Almost immediately after the ceremony, we had been whisked away to have pictures taken.

“I can’t believe your dad is wearing plaid.”

“It’s a Christmas plaid, and he didn’t want to be confused with being a groom’s man.” We stage whispered to each other while keeping smiles on our faces.

“Great, can we get the father of the bride here?”

“See ya,” I said as she cackled with her newly found freedom. “Open bar here I come.”

“How are you holding up?” Dad asked as he sidled in next to me.

“About as good as expected. I got no sleep last night. We’re teething and very cranky.” I no longer was a singular entity. I spoke in plural, and very rarely referred to myself for anything. It was all about the girls.

“I saw that, new teeth. Your mother is enjoying herself. Grand babies, a big wedding.”

“Rhys isn’t though. I guess Emily is pressuring him about wedding plans,” I mentioned.

“If he wants to marry the girl, he needs to understand it isn’t always going to be about him.”

“Yeah, well, he growled at me.”

Dad looked at me, brows raised in a silent question.

“To me please, thank you,” the photographer interrupted.

“He said I should have run away to get married since I always run away to do everything else.”

Dad shocked me when he kissed me on the forehead. I looked up at him in dismay.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” I heard the photographer croon.

“I’m glad you didn’t run away to get married. Your mother planned one hell of a party. Let’s get these photos over with so we can enjoy ourselves.”

He was right, Mom had put together a super party. After the photographer took all the official group shots I was released into the wilds of my reception. The party had started without us, but that was fine, it meant we walked into a good time.

And then everything passed in a blur. I wasn’t ready to go when it was time to leave. I cuddled Strawberry, reluctant to hand her over to Shelly. Summer was already asleep in her stroller.

“They will be fine. The girls have already decided they are going to help, and the boys have volunteered to go to friends’ houses, so they don’t have to hear babies crying.”

“Shelly has done this four times already. Everything will be fine, Brooke.”

“I know.” I took a shaky breath.

“We’re only going to be gone for a week. And then we’re back for Christmas,” Mark tried to soothe me.

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