Page 49 of One and Only

Adaline and I traded looks. Leaving our family was never easy, and it was made even harder by harmless comments from our youngest sister. Poppy still lived at home, and if it were up to her, all of the older siblings would live within walking distance of our big family cabin.

Mom and Tim bought it when they got married all those years ago, fifteen acres outside of Sisters, with enough bedrooms and land and space for the seven of us to roam.

“I’ll be home every week, Pops,” I promised her. “You may not be able to steal my clothes as easily, but … I’m not abandoning anyone.”

“I know,” she conceded. Poppy swept a brush over my cheeks, then declared me ready. “You look amazing, Greer.”

The door to Mom and Dad’s bathroom opened, and my mom was already misting up when she saw the three of us in there. “Oh honey,” she said. She swiped underneath her eye. “You look beautiful. Beckett is gonna lose it.”

A panicked laugh almost broke loose from my chest because hopefully no one was expecting my oh-so-serious groom to burst into emotional tears at the sight of me. More than likely, he’d be standing up there mentally calculating all the ways this could go wrong.

If someone grabbed their phone to record Beckett’s reaction for some sweet viral video, they’d be sorely disappointed. He already texted me four times that morning asking how I planned to take care of the minister not filing the marriage license.

Me: I’ll take care of it.

Beckett: Why do I not feel comforted by that response?

Me: Beeeeecause you’re a pessimist? I have it handled.

Beckett: HOW do you have it handled? Do you have a plan? He’s a minister, it’s not like we can pay him off.

Me: I say this with the utmost respect, Beckett, but you have to chill out. Pastor Bill has known my family forever, and I will HANDLE IT.

Those were the sweet, romantic last words that my future husband and I shared before I met his overthinking ass at the end of the aisle. My chest trembled in anticipation because this one day was the whole reason I was doing this.

Letting my sisters help me with my hair and makeup. Allowing Mom to zip up the back of the beautiful white dress that I’d had hanging in my closet. It was simple and sleek with a clean silhouette and a softly draping neckline that made me feel beautiful and elegant.

Truth be told, I’d never spent much time thinking about what kind of bride I’d be. It was one day, and one day did not a marriage make.

The thing I imagined was the guy at my side, my partner in life. The person who’d complement my personality, in the same ways that Tim balanced out Mom’s. I always imagined that man would be gregarious and funny and excessively charming. He’d have a big laugh and a wide smile, and we’d be so charming together that it was almost nauseating.

The details of how I got down the aisle, what flowers I’d clutch in my hand, what the cut of my dress was—they never crossed my mind. Probably because I’d never met that faceless man.

Now I had a partner, all right.

My partner in lying to both our families about this entire charade.

My partner in deciding how much time I’d stay at his house, and how much time I’d be at my parents’ during the week if they needed me.

It was the guy who was sweet and quiet and thought through all the millions of details that I hadn’t.

The guy texting me at six o’clock stressing about how we’d dupe the eighty-year-old minister from the church down the road from my parents’.

The guy who checked if I had any food allergies before he went grocery shopping because he didn’t want to stock anything in his house that I couldn’t eat.

I know.

The thoughtfulness was out of control.

So when my mom said things likeBeckett is going to lose it? She was probably right. I had no doubt his overworked head was throbbing with all the things he was trying to keep balanced.

Instead of commenting, I simply smiled at her in the mirror. “Did Josie get here with Olive?” I asked.

She nodded, picking up the small bouquet of wildflowers from the bathroom counter. “She’s so happy for you two. And Olive is adorable. So shy, though. Once she saw Beckett, she hardly popped her head out to look at anyone else,” she added. “It would’ve been nice if she could have been your flower girl or something.”

Protectiveness roared hot and quick in my belly, but I tamped it down.

“Quiet kids are kind of a foreign concept in this family,” I said.

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