Perfect Summer by Bethany Lopez

Epilogue

Faith

“You look so beautiful,” my mom said, dabbing her eyes delicately with a handkerchief.

We already had our hair and makeup done and were dressed, so running mascara was out of the question.

I felt like a princess in my ivory scalloped-lace satin, spaghetti-strap wedding dress.

It was the most beautiful piece of clothing I’d ever owned. Olivia and I had searched far and wide for the perfect dress and I’d become convinced it didn’t exist, and then on a trip to Billings, I saw it. Lacy scallops trimmed the V-neck and low V-back of a chic A-line wedding dress. Spaghetti straps and a grosgrain ribbon at the waist added sophisticated detail, and the satin skirt had side pockets for the ultimate modern touch.

It was me in dress form and I loved it.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, breathing through my nose in short bursts to keep the tears at bay. I was sure I looked like a crazy person, or a horse, but I didn’t want anything to mess me up before I walked down the aisle to Mitch.

“Your dad’s waiting outside,” she told me, giving me a quick side hug. “I’ll see you out there. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

I went out in the hall to find my dad pacing nervously.

“I’m ready,” I said, causing him to stop, his head swinging up to find me.

When his eyes filled, I said, “Oh, no, Dad, don’t. If you cry there’s no way I can keep it in.”

“Sorry, you look…” he started, and then his face fell, and he began to sob.

I rushed to him and put my arms around him, then, unable to hold back, a few tears snuck down my cheeks.

After a few moments we composed ourselves and he handed me his hankie. Once I made sure there was nothing black running down my face, I gave it back and tucked my arm in his.

“Let’s do this,” I said, and he led me outside.

The yard had turned out beautifully, as had the wedding arch. I’d chosen lilacs and peonies for the wedding flowers, and they were everywhere, making the space look magical and pretty. Rows of white chairs lined the yard and at the end, underneath the arch, were Mitch, with his best man, Wilder, along with Olivia and Hope, who was our flower girl.

They all watched and waited as the wedding march began and I started toward him.

I guess I’d broken the seal with my dad, because once I saw Mitch and Hope waiting for me, the tears spilled over.

The wedding was perfect and the reception a true celebration of the love Mitch and I shared.

There was so much dancing I was sure Hope wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, but I think she may have had the best time of all. The toasts all included her, Mitch and my father had both had special dances with her in front of everyone, and Mitch had even given her the ring she’d asked for the day he’d proposed.

“You’re the sweetest man, you know that?” I asked, as I danced happily in his arms to one of the last songs of the night.

“She deserves every happiness,” he replied, pulling me closer. “You both do. You’ve both been through so much, and due to you, she’s a happy, well-adjusted kid, who seriously makes the world a little brighter simply by being in it.”

“But you realize she’s going to grow out of that ring in a few years.”

“Then I’ll replace it,” he said with a shrug.

I laughed and shook my head. “See … the sweetest.”

“She’s my daughter now,” Mitch said, dipping his head to kiss my chin lightly. “I’ll give her the sun and the moon if she asks.”

“Oh yeah? Is that going to be how you are with all of our kids?”

“Most definitely,” he whispered, teasing the lobe of my ear with his teeth. “It’s possible I’ll be the biggest pushover there is, I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Well, we don’t want our kids to be spoiled, but you loving them the way you do won’t spoil them, it’ll just let them know they’re cherished. You just have to find the line.”

“I’ll be sure to work on that,” he said, doing something with his tongue that almost made me lose my train of thought.

“You have about seven-and-a-half months to figure it out,” I told him, my breath catching as I waited for his reaction.

It took a second, but eventually he pulled back, his velvety brown eyes intent on my face.

“Seven-and-a-half months?” he asked.

I nodded, biting my lip to try and hold back my grin, and failing.

“Miles said I’m about six weeks along.”

Mitch let out a whoop and swung me around, laughing and crying.

“Faith Evans,” Mitch said once he put me back on my feet. “First you gave me a perfect summer and now you’re giving me a perfect life. I love you and Hope so much and I know our baby is going to add to our already perfect family.”

“Not too perfect though,” I said with a smile. “A little imperfection can make things even better.”

“Together we’ll be imperfectly perfect,” he said, dipping me low and kissing me soundly. “Thanks for coming home.”

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I said, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly. “I’ll love you forever.”

The End