Epilogue

Ryan

Stevie stands at the front of the church, waiting for the ceremony to start, Harrison, Gordon, and his brothers beside him. Alan and I are up front next to his parents, and the rest of the team fills half the seats in the room behind us. The music starts and we all stand to watch the bridesmaids enter. When they reach the front, Bella and her children make their way down, the newborn in her arms instead of a bouquet, and the oldest holding onto her hand, toddling down beside her. She has to stop a couple of times for the oldest to find her footing, but it’s sweet. It’s them. Family is what matters most, and this day is about joining them all together forever.

I squeeze Alan’s hand, and he glances my way with a soft smile on his lips.

“You know you’re supposed to cry during the ceremony, not before it even starts,” he leans over and whispers into my ear, then he brushes the tear I didn’t feel on my cheek.

“It’s just so beautiful,” I reason, and he returns his attention to Bella as she takes her final steps as an unmarried woman. When she reaches the front, Stevie takes the baby, a boy named Frankie, from her and kisses his head before passing it off to his soon-to-be father-in-law. The oldest child, their daughter, Sage, moves to sit on her grandmother’s lap.

The ceremony starts and is over almost as quickly. They left the vows somewhat traditional, but without the obey part, and everyone had a little chuckle when the priest added in a promise to support him and cheer him on, even if he were to be traded to the Funky Monkeys.

“Do you want that one day?” I ask Alan, nodding towards where Stevie and Bella are on their way out.

“Kids or a husband?”

“Both.”

“I could see myself with both. What do you say?”

“Is that a proposal?”

“No, but not because I don’t love you. When I propose I want it to be grand, special, like what you helped Stevie do for Bella.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that, too. Not because it’s big, but because it means something to ask someone to marry you, so it should be special.

“But seriously, do you want it one day? Kids and a husband?” Alan goes on to ask.

“More than almost anything else.”

“That’s good.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, it is. Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it and knowing you want the same things as me for your future, just proves all the much more how perfect we are for each other.”

“Careful. Dennis will get on his soapbox about how he orchestrated our entire love story again.”

“Let him claim it.”

“Why, because, you and I both know it was that first day in the shower when you were singing my name that started it all?”

His cheeks go bright red.

“You never said. Oh, my god. I thought you didn’t hear that.”

“How could I not? You were belting it out at the top of your lungs. It was sweet.”

“I don’t think my thoughts were on anything sweet that day.”

“Just my sweet ass.”

“Shh, you can’t say ass in a church.”

“I just did, and so did you.”

“Let’s get out of here before we get ass-ed to leave.”

We follow the rest of the guests, and while the bridal party is off taking photos, we head to the reception at the stadium. When Bella asked Bart Erricson, the GM, about taking some wedding shots on the field after the ceremony, he offered one better and asked her if she wanted to host the whole reception there. They brought in a big marquee, tables and chairs, and a floating floor to not damage the field. The season just ended a few days ago, but we’ll be back at it in a few months.

Walking into the marquee, I glance up and find every second ceiling panel is clear plastic, giving us the perfect view of the sky as the sun starts to set on the day. String lights are hung crisscrossed over the tables and a giant chandelier hovers over the dancefloor in the middle of the space. The back of the marquee is open, and the diamond is lit up by the field lights, the brilliant green grass and red dirt matching perfectly with the roses they’ve chosen for the flowers on the tables.

“Wow,” I say, and Alan squeezes my hand and brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it.

“I was about to say the same thing,” he says.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah, you are. Oh, sorry. Were you looking at the tent?”

“It’s a marquee, but yeah, I was.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m distracted by my incredibly beautiful boyfriend.”

“You’re excused, I guess.”

With an oomph, Tim wraps his arms over our shoulders from behind and sticks his face between ours.

“Ready to party, boys,” he cheers as a few more people start to make their way in to find their seats.

“Sounds like you are,” Alan replies, and Tim leans in closer.

“Hey, does that guy look familiar?” he asks, nodding towards where a tall handsome guy in a server uniform is placing water jugs on the tables and side-eyeing us.

“Not really,” I reply.

“I swear I’ve seen him before,” Tim says, and I take another look. He doesn’t seem familiar to me, but he keeps looking our way out of the corner of his eye with a growing smile on his lips. It certainly seems like he might know one of us.

“Maybe he’s just a fan?” Alan offers, and Tim releases us.

“Yeah, maybe. Oh well, fellas, I’m headed to the bar. You want a drink?” Tim asks.

“Lead the way,” I reply, and we follow Tim to grab a drink while we wait for the rest of the bride and groom to arrive.

Thankfully, we don’t have to wait long. Two drinks in, we’re ushered to our tables to cheer as the newlyweds dance their way into the reception to an acoustic version of Cheerleader by OMI. The second they step onto the dancefloor though, the music changes to the song that led them to today, Love Story by Taylor Swift, and Stevie holds Bella close for their first official dance and husband and wife.

Alan squeezes my hand as the song comes to a close, and he lifts it and presses his lips against the back of my hand.

Tim cheers beside us. “Come on boys, back to the bar.”

“I was actually thinking of asking my boyfriend here if he’d like to dance,” Alan replies.

“Really?” I ask, and Alan stands.

Tim leaves us to go get the first of what is likely to be many, many drinks. I swear Aussies are built differently. He can finish a dozen beers and still hold a conversation. I have four and I’m tripping all over myself.

“I believe this is our song,” Alan says, and only then do I hear it. An acoustic version of Hold Me Closer by Elton and Britney is playing, and when I glance over to the dancefloor both Bella and Stevie are smiling our way.

“You asked them to play this for us?”

“I asked them to play this for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love making you smile.”

I let him lead me onto the dance floor.

Others start to join in, too, and by the time the music shifts into another song, the dancefloor is full of people.

“So, there was something I did need to talk to you about,” Alan says, his tone shifting into his serious voice.

“You can talk to me about anything.”

“Well, Gramps is starting to need more care, so—”

“You’re not putting him in a home, are you?” I stop dancing. “I can help out more. I’m just across the alley. I can pop over in the mornings and the afternoons. I’m there at least once a day now, pretty much, but I can visit more.”

“Shh,” he says, pressing a single finger over my lips. “It’s nothing like that,” he says, and he leads us on the dancefloor more towards the edge of the others.

“What is it then?”

“When we get back from visiting your family for Granny’s ninetieth birthday, I’m moving in with Gramps.”

“Oh. Okay. You had me worried there. That’s great. You’ll be right across the alleyway.”

“That wasn’t everything. I have something else that I wanted to ask you.”

“It wasn’t? Oh, sorry. Alright, what do you need to ask?”

He pauses and only now do I see the slight blush that has risen to his cheeks. He’s nervous. But what could he have to be nervous about?

“Do you want to move in, too?” he finally blurts.

“With you and Gramps?”

He lets go of my waist and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound all that romantic, but yeah.”

“Wait, isn’t his place like a one-bedroom?”

“Ha, no. His place is actually a duplex.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, but he hasn’t been up there in years. There is a bedroom, bathroom and I think a small office or study or something.”

“How did I not know this?”

“He’s covered the door with a bookcase in his living room.”

“Oh, I saw that door. I figured it was a closet.”

“Nope, it’s the door to my new room, well, our new room, new space, if you want to move in, too. You didn’t exactly answer me before. And I get if you don’t want to, it’s weird. Asking you to live with me and my grandfather.”

“No, it’s not. It’s exactly why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

“It is?”

“You love your family with all your heart and that told me I could trust you with mine.”

“So you’ll move in with us?”

I laugh, because it does sound a little weird when he puts it like that. But I don’t care. I love Gramps like he’s my own grandfather, and I love Alan more than any man I’ve ever loved.

“I will.”

He wraps me in a hug and spins me around.

“He’ll be so happy you said yes. I think he was more excited to ask you to move in than me.”

“It’s just because he likes my cooking better than yours.”

“He loves your cooking. But I love your everything.”

“I love your everything, too.”