To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5) (11 page)

Luke had witnessed how thrilled they were with the news, especially my mother who immediately hopped on the Internet to shop for baby clothes. Being the smart man he was, he’d used that knowledge to his benefit.

I barked out a watery laugh. “I’ll make sure that promise is kept.”

Climbing into my lap, Nil bounced with restless energy. The movement made her crown tilt askew. I reached up and fixed it for her.

“Mommy, Daddy said there will be dessert and since it’s a special night, I can have it before dinner!” she declared.

My arms circled her waist, hugging her against my chest. She wiggled in my grasp, desperate to get free. Outside the door, the low murmur of children giggling could be heard.

“Are Misty’s kids here?” I questioned my mom and grandmother.

Misty, my cousin, and her two kids, Sissy and Jack, were also referred to as whirling menaces. Whenever they were reunited with Nil, they sucked her into trouble she wouldn’t normally get in. For example, drawing on the walls with bright red crayon. I had to smear mayonnaise on the marks, which made my house smell like a sandwich for a week. Nil slid to her feet and sprinted back to her cousins.

“Don’t ruin your dress!” I yelled after her.

My plea fell on deaf ears. She had fun on her mind and nothing would stop that. An image of her dress getting ruined by an “accidental” shove into a mud puddle caused my shoulders to tense.

My grandmother saw my pinched expression. “Relax, darling. You are not a mother today, you are a bride.” She glanced toward the hallway. “Or you will be once Camille shows up. Where is she?”

“Good question,” I muttered.

She’d been gone for a while, at least fifteen minutes. I hoped she didn’t trip; the stairwell to the basement was dark and twisty. Luke had promised to change the light fixture to a brighter one but it had gotten bumped to the bottom of our to-do list. My stomach knotted.
Great, I killed my best friend on my wedding day.
Just as I was about to launch a search party, she came rushing in, pale as a bed sheet. Camille blew her bangs off her forehead and seemed short of breath. Odd. A self-proclaimed fitness addict, the stairs shouldn’t have winded her.

My eyes narrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Fine!” she replied a little too sunnily.

“You sure? You don’t appear fine.”

Camille ignored my searching questions. Instead, she hurriedly unzipped the garment bag and revealed my vintage wedding dress. Her diversion tactic worked. The ladies in the room, including me, gasped at the beauty of it. Pale white with a lace bodice and a full skirt, it was as if Cinderella had a 1950s makeover.

M
y mother laced the corset with firm and steady fingers. Unlike mine, which were shaking with anticipation to meet my future husband. After a final tug, she tied the silk ribbons in a bow.

Stepping backwards, she admired her handiwork. “Perfect.”

The full-length mirror reflected a woman who, up until eight months ago, didn’t believe happy endings existed in the romance department. They were a mirage, a delusion that only brought false expectations. Then, Luke had walked into the hotel lobby where I’d been working and proved the best love stories were worth waiting for.

Sandy fastened the veil to my hair and lifted it over my face.

Tears shined in my mother’s eyes while she clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh honey, you look absolutely stunning.”

Murmurs of agreement were heard from the rest of the clan. I draped a fake fur shawl across my shoulders and pinned it together with my grandmother’s vintage brooch.

“If we don’t leave now, Luke is going to think you abandoned him at the altar,” Camille said.

We gathered our belongings, rallied the kids, and bustled out the front door. The groupies had moved on once the news had broken about the Five Guys Come Back Tour. Thank God, too, because I didn’t want the media to catch wind of Luke’s and my nuptials. My footsteps faltered. A mid 1960s black Rolls Royce, my dream car, idled in the driveway.

I gripped Camille’s forearm. “Please tell me this is real.”

“It’s real. If you don’t believe me, I can kick you in the shins.”

“I’m good.”

The driver’s door opened and a man dressed in a five-piece suit stepped into the spring air. “Madame, your ride awaits,” he said in a British accent.

Camille ushered us into the plush interior, stocked with mini bottles of vodka, which I immediately hid. Nil had about sixteen years until she was of legal drinking age. No need to start her early.

Propped against the highball glasses was a note addressed to me. My fingers tore the flap.

To my dearest Marlene,

I have been wanting to call you my wife since the moment I laid eyes on you. During my time on tour, or as I fondly nicknamed it, my darkest period, you were my salvation and the only reason I’m still living and breathing today. I clung to the thought of being a family again once I became the man and father you and Nil deserved. At twenty-two, I was immature—reckless with my own life. Certainly not ready to care for another human being. Call it selfish, but staying would have destroyed us because deep down, a part of me believed I didn’t deserve the love you could give. A love that spans continents. I have already told you all of this amongst the backdrop of the twinkling night sky though, haven’t I? Nevertheless,, I’ll never stop telling you. You deserve to hear 24 hours a day how much you mean to me. I’ll see you at the altar, my future wife.

Love,

Luke

The tears leaking from my eyes smudged the ink on the paper. I swiped at my face with the back of my hand, sniffling. I wanted yell at the driver to floor it; waiting another minute to marry my soul mate seemed like torture. I tucked the note into my purse.

Camille raised her scotch glass filled with clear liquid. The kids had empty ones, as did I.

“To my best friend, my sister, and the Nancy to my Sid, life with you hasn’t been boring that’s for sure.” Her comment caused the crowed in the car to chuckle. Smiling, she proceeded. “Nobody deserves her fairy tale ending more than you. May you and Luke grow old and gray together till death do you part. To Luke and Marlene!”

Glasses clinked and happiness warmed my stomach as I glanced around at my support system. My grandmother, my mother, and Camille were right alongside me through the worst and best times. When the weight of being a single mother had shoved me to my knees, they’d picked the gravel from my wounds and helped me to my feet.

The car came to halt and soon after, the driver opened the passenger side door. I imprinted this moment to memory. How the sidewalk glistened like a thousand diamonds in the late afternoon sun. How the air, scented with fresh rain, signified newness and a fresh start. Nil interwove her fingers in mine as we walked up the cobble stone path. Two potted lavender plants flanked the front door, painted pale lavender as well. Our landscape designer, a woman who’d just graduated from grad school, had done a terrific job. She’d charged half the price, but transformed the overgrown lot into an eco-friendly wonderland. My hand stalled on the doorknob. Once I entered the foyer, a new chapter would begin. Glancing at my daughter with her pink dusted cheeks, sadness sank heavily in my stomach. A part of me didn’t want to share her with Luke.

She danced impatiently. “Mommy, what are you waiting for?!”

And just like that, my greediness vanished. Taking Luke’s last name didn’t mean she wouldn’t be my baby girl anymore. She would always play that role in my eyes. Even after she graduated and had kids of her own.

“Sorry sweets, let’s get this party rolling.” I pushed open the door and gasped. “Holy shit.”

“You said a bad word.”

Norma Jean’s wasn’t a construction zone anymore. Yes, the walls needed a coat of paint, but the crown molding flanked the room seamlessly. Matthew had managed to match the existing wood like he said he would. Along with having a voice of an angel, he was an incredible craftsman. Whoever managed to peg him down would be a lucky lady.

Camille came up behind me, stopping in her tracks like I did. Hard not to. Luke had managed to polish the house into a flawless work of art.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” My voice dripped with awe. “Matthew and Luke should own a construction company. They are a dynamo team.”

Camille shrugged. “I guess..”

Glancing to my left, I saw she wore a discernible expression. To my understanding, Camille and Matthew hadn’t met before, but she acted like they had a torrid past.

“I’m confused,” I said. “Do you know each other?”

Her eyes cleared of whatever had been bugging her. She smoothed her face into a mask of utter innocence. Best friends since elementary school, I saw beneath the cracks. Matthew wasn’t a stranger. Somehow, somewhere, they’d crossed paths. Nevertheless, my lips remained sealed. Camille had a right to stuff as many skeletons in her closet as she liked.

“Forget it. Where is my handsome husband?”

“The dining room.” Camille glanced toward the archway then morphed into wedding planner. “Wait for your signal. Nil will go first then me and Matthew….”

“Then the bride.”

She nodded. “Then the bride, along with your father and mother. They wanted to walk you down the aisle together.”

“You are the Best Thing” by Ray LaMontagne blasted over the speakers. The song that Luke had serenaded to me in the vacant art gallery as we’d danced cheek to cheek, his heartbeat matching mine.

Camille grinned. “Showtime!”

My grandmother handed me a bouquet of wild flowers wrapped together with a silk ribbon. “I’m so proud of you.”

Another round of tears welled. I blinked quickly so that my makeup stayed in tact. She grabbed Nil’s hand and led her to the archway that went into the dining room. They followed behind Camille and Matthew as they sauntered down the aisle first.

My father rounded the bend on the heels of my mother. His salt and pepper hair fell across his forehead in a hairstyle he has had since the nineteen nineties. Round spectacles were perched on the bridge of his nose.

“We are here!” My mother shot a glance over her shoulder at my father. “There was a slight incident with the tie.”

“I spilled wine on it,” my father confessed. “But stains are no match for your mother’s super powers.”

The song was thirty seconds in. Right now really wasn’t the moment to discuss anything. I ushered my parents to stand on opposite sides of me.

As my dad took my arm, he leaned down. “Luke is a lucky man. He may be the rock star but in my eyes, you are the rock star.”

Touched, I squeezed his upper forearm. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“You ready?”

I squared my shoulders back. “More than anything.”