asked you for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” Eli told Brynne’s dad, as Miranda rattled over with a tray of cups and saucers and Alice followed with a full pot of java.
“That’s old-fashioned,” Mike answered, with a dismissive wave of one hand. “Brynne’s a grown woman, fully capable of deciding for herself.” He paused, winked at his daughter. “I do reserve the honor of walking my girl down the aisle, though.”
Alice filled everyone’s mug, including one for Miranda, with the deftness of a woman who has waited tables for nearly three decades. Frank, who might have been invited to join the party, had disappeared into the kitchen and busied himself with the usual chores.
“How many bridesmaids?” Alice asked, taking her order pad from her apron pocket and plucking a pencil from behind her ear to make notes.
“Sara and Shallie for sure,” Brynne answered. “Melba, too.”
“Flower girls?” Miranda prompted.
“Junior bridesmaids, I think,” Brynne said. “Maddie, if she can be here, Melba and Dan’s daughters, Jill and Carrie, and, of course, Sara’s girl, Hayley.”
“Perfect,” Alice decreed, scribbling away.
“Is this going to be a hen party?” Mike demanded good-naturedly. “Because if it is, I think I’ll take Eli up on his offer to buy me a beer.”
“Go,” Alice said, without looking up.
Brynne smiled at Eli and formed a subtle kiss with that remarkable mouth of hers.
“Sounds good to me,” Eli said, pushing back his chair. “Get your coat, Mike. It’s cold out there.”
With that, he stood.
Mike stood up, too.
“Only one beer,” Brynne said, addressing Eli. “You’re still on medication.”
Mike rolled his eyes, but they were twinkling as he laid one hand on Eli’s shoulder and said, “And so it begins.”
EPILOGUE
Nine months later...
ELI STOOD GAZING through the wide window of the hospital nursery, wonderstruck.
Two babies, side by side in their cots.
His sons, and Brynne’s.
Before Brynne had admitted she loved him, overcome her fears about throwing in with a cop and finally accepted his proposal, he hadn’t believed in miracles.
Loving Brynne, and being loved by her, had transformed him.
Eli Garrett 2.0.
And now there would be another transformation.
“How did this happen?” he murmured, thinking aloud.
His friends J.P. and Cord stood on either side of Eli and somehow, without touching him, kept him upright. They both chuckled.
“I reckon it happened in the usual way,” J.P. observed dryly. Of the three of them, he was the only one without a wife and children. Cord and Shallie had Carly, of course, and now a healthy son named Grant, after Shallie’s closest friend, Emma Grant.
Eli let his head rest against the glass. Fogged it up a little with his breath. “What if I screw this up?” he asked, supposing he could be forgiven for losing his grip a little.
Cord rested a hand on Eli’s shoulder. “You won’t,” he said, with the quiet assurance that comes from knowing someone for most of their life. “You’re a good man, Garrett. You’re a fine husband and you’ll be rock-solid as a father.”
“What is this, a rerun of Oprah?” J.P. interjected. “Let’s not go to pieces here.”
Both Cord and Eli laughed at that.
Then Cord said, “Relax, bro. We’re not going to talk about feelings or anything as terrible as that.”
“Shut up,” J.P. retorted, but he was fighting back a grin.
Just then, Sara and Melba—aka chief Summers—entered the small room and squeezed past the men to get close to the window and admire the new additions.
“Are they identical?” Melba asked, favoring Eli with one of her dazzling smiles. She’d been a lot easier to be around since (1) she and Dan had decided to try again, and (2) she’d been appointed to head up the Creek’s municipal police department.
Sara, for her part, was a happy mess, in her crumpled clothes and with her famous braid coming undone. She’d been in the vicinity since Eli had called the night before to tell her Brynne was in labor.
“Yes,” answered the proud aunt, before Eli had a chance to speak.
“You might as well tell the people their names, while you’re at it,” Eli told his sister, without rancor.
Sara gave him a sisterly look, part love, part putting him in his place. She often forgot that she was two years older than he was, not twenty.
“That’s for Brynne to do, not me,” she said.
“Speaking of my beautiful wife,” Eli put in, “I’ll be getting back to her now. My turn to sit by a hospital bed and be incredibly vigilant.”
“The least you can do,” Melba remarked cheerfully.
After that, everyone went their separate ways: Sara home to rest, J.P. back