There’s no better way for me to do that than to marry her again. Maybe I’ll do it every year for the rest of our time on this earth.”
Sherman felt tears spring to his eyes. “Joseph, I love Bobbi. She means the world to me. But your love for Katherine puts my love, and everyone else’s, to shame. It’s such a pleasure to watch your love story unfold. I’m glad I’ve been here from the start.”
“Yes, Sherman, my love for her is never-ending. I have nothing without Katherine. I’d be a shell of a man. That’s why I want a great love story for all of those I love so much.”
“I agree, my friend. I’m sorry I tried to deny you the pleasure of seeing me marry a beautiful, wonderful, kind woman.”
“I’ll accept your apology,” Joseph said with a laugh. “I’m only doing so because you’ve been a good sport about letting us invade your day.”
“I don’t think I had much choice,” Sherman said, sharing the laugh.
Music began, and Sherman stood to attention. “It’s time, Uncle,” Cooper Armstrong said as he came up and patted his uncle on the back. His nephews had already forgiven him for his impulsiveness. It helped that they’d all fallen in love with Bobbi too.
“I’m more than ready,” Sherman said.
“We are too,” Ace said.
They led their uncle to the altar and stood next to him. Joseph took his seat in the front next to his Katherine, and the music changed to the song, Love To Be Your Last by Clay Walker. Tears stung Sherman’s eyes as Bobbi stepped from behind a curtain they’d put up. His heart thundered and his breathing became shallow.
This woman was about to become his wife. She moved toward him as the song played. He listened as he watched Bobbi walk toward him in a stunning pink satin gown that had long flowing sleeves, and a slit up the side showcasing her stunning legs. Her shoes were flats to walk on the grass, but they were beaded, and sparkling with each step she took. Her hair had been placed on top of her head with gleaming beads and jewels dangling from strategically fallen strands. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
But we’ve both done our share of living
Takin’ chances we were given
I’ve never been big on looking back
I don’t care if I’m your first love
But I’d love to be your last
There had never been truer words written to express how he felt about Bobbi. He might’ve met her late in life, but that didn’t diminish the impact she made on him. He’d stopped getting excited for a new day until he’d met her. Now, he felt like a teenager, his mind and body free, his wings spread wide. He was ready to soar with this woman he’d been so blessed to find.
She reached him, a few tears streaming down her face. Avery gently pulled her mother close and hugged her before kissing her cheek, then turned and looked at Sherman.
“I love you, Sherman. I love how you make my mother shine. I love that she has this beautiful chance at love, and I love how you complement each other. I give my full blessing for your union.”
A tear slipped from Sherman’s eye as he stepped from the altar and pulled Avery close. “Thank you, my darling child. I love you too, and I promise to always take care of your mother and treat her like the princess she is.”
Avery nodded and then took her mother’s hand and placed it in Sherman’s. He knew some didn’t like the tradition of a parent blessing a union, and even more might not find it acceptable for the child to bless the union, but now that his wedding had been invaded, he couldn’t be happier for it. This moment would go down in history as one of his top five moments. They were a new family now, a great one.
Sherman and Bobbi exchanged vows surrounded by an array of pink and white flowers, turning the scene into a beautiful fairy-tale setting. They were supported by their friends and family who hadn’t allowed them to sneak off — and it was perfect. The romantic feel was only made better by the tradition Joseph and their friends had brought to this incredible event.
“Would you like to say personal vows or have me read something?” the preacher asked after giving his opening.
Sherman held up his hand, needing a second to clear his throat and compose himself.