The Journey Collection (21 page)

Travis leaned over and cupped her face, lowering his lips down onto hers. “June first is my mother’s birthday. I can’t think of any other way I’d like to honor her than to celebrate it by becoming the man she always thought I could be. I love you, Penelope, and I can’t wait to be your husband, but I have one request before we get married.”

“What?” she asked with some apprehension.

“I want to legally change Max’s last name to McCoy.” Before she could argue with him, Travis continued. “I understand why you felt it would be easier for him to have your last name, but if you’re gonna be a McCoy, I want him to be one, too. It’s the only way we can be a real family.”

“You’re such a silly man,” Penelope giggled through her tears. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We can call down to the judge on Monday and see what we need to do.”

“Thank you,” Travis exclaimed, kissing her. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Travis.”

***

Chapter Six

Cakes, Flowers, and Invitations,

Oh My!

“So, I was thinking we could have a buttercream cake for the wedding,” Penelope droned on. “Or maybe we should go with lemon. Ugh, I just don’t know. What do you think, Travis?”

“Whatever you want, honey,” he mumbled, trying to keep his attention on the textbook in front of him. However, when she huffed, he sighed and looked over at her. “You know that I don’t care what kind of cake we have. All I need is you and some smear-able icing.”

“We’ve had that discussion, McCoy,” she snarled. “You are not shoving icing in my face, or there won’t be any wedding-night loving.”

“Eww,” Max grumbled, and they looked behind them just in time to see him walk past the dining room door toward the living room.

It’d been almost three weeks since the judge had changed Max’s last name from Stone to McCoy. Travis couldn’t explain the level of pride that filled him when he’d signed the paperwork that made it official; Max was his son in every possible way. Soon, Penelope would join them, and they’d be the McCoys.

Laughing, he turned back to Penelope. “You just scarred him for life. Now, he will never marry Jana.”

“Oh, no, the horror!” she gasped and pretended to faint.

“You two think you’re real funny,” Max groused as he walked into the room and sat down on the other side of the table. “You just wait and see.”

“Well, my boy, as long as you wait till you’re out of college, you can marry whomever you want,” Penelope said, picking up the two pictures of cakes that she’d been agonizing over. “Now, buttercream or lemon?”

“Lemon,” Max replied before he stood up and walked out of the room. “And who said I was even going to college? Was thinking about just living off of you and Dad for the rest of my life. Jana can share my room.”

“You’re going to college!” Penelope yelled, before adding under her breath, “And you and the missus ain’t living here, either. That’s just nasty.”

Travis fell back in his seat, laughing so hard he had tears pouring down his face. The banter between Max and Penelope had gotten more and more snarky since they’d announced the date for the wedding. Part of it was because Penelope had jumped into planning the wedding, but it was also because Max seemed to enjoy provoking her. The foolish boy would be lucky if he lived long enough to see his parents get married.

“You’re not helping, you know,” Penelope grumbled. “He might be serious.”

“No, he’s not. Well, not about going to college anyway,” Travis told her. “He might be planning to live here with Jana.”

She sighed. “I don’t want him to like girls yet. They’re supposed to be gross.”

“Yeah, girls are stupid,” he agreed. “They have cooties, and they talk all the time!”

“Hey!” She slapped him on the arm. “I’m a girl!”

“No, baby, you’re a woman,” he growled, wrapping his around her and pulling her closer to him. “A sexy woman.”

“Mmm,” she moaned. “Glad you think so, but I still need to know if you want buttercream or lemon.”

“Penelope,” he whined and fell back in his chair.

“Sorry, but I can’t make the decision by myself, and while I love our son, he don’t know shit about cakes.”

“You’d better put a dollar in the jar, Mom,” Max hollered from the living room.

“Yeah, yeah; whatever,” Penelope muttered and once again, Travis found himself laughing at the two of them. “I’m serious, McCoy, help a woman out!”

“Fine, okay,” he chuckled and took the brochure from her. “The buttercream looks better than the lemon.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” she murmured. “But I didn’t know if everyone would like the taste.”

“Who cares?” Travis leaned in and kissed her before she could argue. “It’s our wedding, Penelope. We should have what we want. Period.”

“It must be nice to be a man and not have to worry about how everyone will view our wedding,” she said, her voice wistful.

“Ha-ha; you’re so funny,” he snarked.

“So, buttercream it is.” She marked her choice before moving on to a stack of flower pictures. “Now, about the flowers . . .”

Travis closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. Their wedding was worth it — at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

~*~*~*~

The flowers turned out to be even more of a hassle than the cake. Penelope couldn’t decide if she should go with roses or lilies, and when Travis suggested a mix of both, the horrified look on her face told him it was time to keep his mouth shut. In the end, she had chosen lilies. Of course, what he hadn’t understood at the time was that there were different types of lilies — a
lot
of different types of lilies.

In the end, though, she decided on water lilies. Travis couldn’t deny that her choice was beautiful. The flowers were electric blue with orange centers, and when they were put together in a beautiful arrangement, they seemed to glow.

Now, Penelope had moved on to her dress, and for once, Travis had been spared. Sherman and Wanda had driven down from Colorado so that Wanda could go dress shopping with her daughter. While they went in search of the perfect wedding gown, the men were assigned the duty of finding tuxedos.

“I don’t understand why we have to wear such weird suits,” Max grumbled, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “I already have a perfectly good suit at home.”

“Because, little man,” Travis stated, “your momma ordered us to, and that woman is stressed out enough without us griping about it, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, before walking away from them.

Sherman laughed and clapped Travis on the shoulder. “My daughter’s driving you both crazy, isn’t she?”

“No,” Travis lied, but when Sherman raised an eyebrow in his direction, he sighed. “I love her — I do — but she’s a little insane right now.”

“They always are. When Wanda and I were getting married, I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with the woman and her mother. Every day there was something new — something that was life or death. We must have tasted over fifty different cakes before we went with the first one we’d tried: a simple vanilla cake. And the flowers — oh, don’t get me started on the flowers. Why are they so hard to decide on?”

“I don’t know,” Travis chuckled. “Or colors.”

“Right!” Sherman exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “They went with roses in the end. From there, it was invitations and venues, table settings, and even worse, where to have crazy Uncle Bob sit. But while everything leading up to the wedding was horrifying, the moment I saw her standing at the other end of the aisle, I knew I’d go through it all again.” He shook his head, smiling. “She looked so beautiful, and every bit of the insanity was worth it. Wanda was going to stand before God and vow to love me forever.”

“How long have you been married?” Travis asked.

“Thirty-four years, ten months, and twenty-two days,” he replied. “Not that I’m counting.”

“Nah, of course not,” Travis snickered. “Do you still love her as much as you did the day you married her?”

“No,” Sherman mused, shaking his head. “I love her more. She gave me a daughter and a life that I wouldn’t have had without her. We’ve had more good years than bad. I’ll tell you this: if at the end, you and Penelope can say the same, then you’ll know you did something right.”

“I love her,” Travis murmured. “I missed out on so much time with her and with Max. I don’t know how I ever managed to breathe without them.”

“Not all of the blame rests on your shoulders, Travis. My daughter didn’t give you a lot of say on the matter. While I don’t like that you broke her heart when you went off to school, you didn’t do it knowing that she was pregnant. You’re a good man, Travis. My daughter’s lucky to have you.”

“No, sir, I’m the lucky one.” He smiled. “After all, I get her and Max.”

“Can’t argue with you, there.” Sherman laughed. “Now, let’s get our tuxes worked out so that we can go find something better to do. I don’t think that boy will last much longer.”

Shifting his eyes over to Max, who was sitting in a chair and glaring at everyone, Travis nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, Travis, Max, and Sherman walked into La Garcia’s Mexican Bar and Grill. Penelope and Wanda were already seated, so they joined them, sliding into the empty chairs. Of course, Max sat next to Wanda and proceeded to blabber on about how torturous the shopping had been for him.

Travis shook his head and looked over at Penelope. She looked exhausted. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and her hair was tangled and tousled. He reached over and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Did you find a dress?” he asked.

She gave him a weary smile. “I did. It took us a while, but I found the perfect dress.”

“Good. You deserve perfection,” he whispered. “Do I get to hear about it? Or is that forbidden, too?”

“Sorry, honey, but mum’s the word.” She smirked. “Did you get your tux?”

He tilted his head in Max’s direction. “Yep, but if you ask him, he’d tell you that we tied him down to a table and forced him to eat raw chickens.”

“Did you?” she asked, trying to put on a straight face, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.

“Of course,” Travis scoffed. “It’s what we good dads do.”

“You are one, you know — a good dad,” she commented, stroking his cheek. “You’ve got so much patience with him.”

“He makes it easy,” he whispered.

“Most of the time.” Penelope tried to stifle her yawn, but failed. “Excuse me; that was rude.”

“You need to sleep tonight,” he said.

“I slept last night,” she defended.

“No, you dozed off on the couch with a dozen magazines on top of you. I mean real sleep, with a pillow and blankets; perhaps a warm body next to you.”

She bit her lip. “Will any warm body do, or did you have someone in mind?”

“I can think of someone who’d take the job.” Travis leaned in and kissed her. “Please sleep for me.”

“I’ll try,” she offered, and he knew that was the best he’d get. “But right now, all I want to do is eat. I’m starving!”

“Me, too,” he laughed, winking at her.

Their server, a young boy who looked barely old enough to even have a job, came over and took their drink order. Penelope and Travis requested iced tea, while Sherman and Max went with root beer. Wanda opted for coffee and a glass of water. Since they already knew what they wanted to eat, they ordered their dinner, too. Once the server had delivered their drinks, they trailed off into random chatter.

At least, until Wanda asked the one question that Travis knew would have Penelope tensing up: “Are you sure that you want to have the wedding outside?”

“Mom,” Penelope groaned, letting her head fall backward. “We’ve been over this. Travis and I want to get married on the football field, right on the fifty-yard line. Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Because it’s not normal,” she argued. “Don’t you want a church wedding?”

“No,” Penelope scoffed. “Momma, that field is where Travis and I became who we are today. Please, just don’t fight me on this. I promise that it will be beautiful.”

“Of course it will be beautiful, sweetheart. How can it not be, when you’re the bride?” Wanda shook her head. “And if you’re dead set on having the ceremony there, then I won’t argue with you, but can we at least have the reception somewhere else?”

“Well, the ladies down at the Methodist church offered me the building if I want it. Will that make you happy?”

“A little bit,” Wanda admitted. “I’m sorry; I just want you both to have the perfect wedding. It’s the only one you’re gonna have.”

“And it will be perfect because we love each other,” Penelope answered with patience.

“Okay, I’ll let it go, but we do need to discuss seating arrangements,” Wanda added.

“Nana,” Max said, pulling everyone’s attention to him. “I think her head is gonna explode if you keep talking about the wedding.” A quick glance confirmed his speculation; Penelope had her fingers pressed against her temples. “Besides, who cares where everyone’s gonna sit? It’s supposed to be a party, right?”

“Yes,” Wanda laughed.

“Then, why even bother with chairs? We should just dance all night. Jana and I have been working on our moves already. We’re gonna make everyone else look like suckers,” he boasted.

“Language, Max,” Travis and Penelope said together, making each other laugh.

Just then, their server showed up with their meal. Once they had eaten, they paid their bill and left the restaurant. They arrived back home a little over an hour later, and Travis left Max in Sherman and Wanda’s care while he carried his fiancée into their bedroom. Penelope had fallen asleep in the car, and he hadn’t had the heart to wake her.

***