On either side of the runner were rented white chairs filled with the people we love. I saw Greg’s parents in the front. Sitting obediently with them, Wainwright sported a jaunty white bow for the occasion. When he saw me, Wainwright let out a short, loud whine, causing everyone to laugh. I also spotted Kelsey and Joan, Dev, Boomer, Steele and Jolene, Jacob and Hannah Washington, even Carl Yates and his wife. They were all there, including my goofy stepmother, whom today I loved unconditionally. Even Willie had sent flowers along with a handwritten note that said: No worries, little mama.
At the end of the altar stood Zee, my matron of honor, wearing a dark blue simple gown, and Sally Kipman, wearing a silk pantsuit of the same color. Greg’s brother was his best man, and Seth would join them as a groomsman.
And then there was Greg, sitting in his wheelchair, looking gorgeous in a tux. The man who loved me in spite of my faults and stubbornness. The man who decided it was better to love me and worry about me than to live without me. The man who told me if I continued sticking my nose into other people’s business, then he intended to take out a lot of life insurance on me.
The man who proposed to me surrounded by murder, mayhem, and flashing police lights, and said he didn’t care as long as he got to stay by my side forever.
As soon as Seth negotiated the chair onto the runner, the music started, and my father joined us. He beamed at me with tears in his eyes. Here was a man who was seldom out of droopy pants and old suspenders, but today he was in a tuxedo—just for me. He held out his arm and I took it, and with Seth pushing the wheelchair, my father walked me down the aisle.
As I sat in my wheelchair with my broken leg, next to Greg in his, I had a fleeting moment of fear as Pastor Hill recited the vows. Greg answered his with confidence and conviction. Then it was my turn.
“Odelia Patience Grey,” I heard as if in a dream, “do you take Gregory William Stevens to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor, and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”
I paused and felt the people around me hold their breath. I studied Greg’s face, both of us at eye level, both of us with tears of joy in our eyes.
“I do.”
In the end, it wasn’t the wedding of my dreams. But in the end, I married the man of my dreams, and isn’t that what really matters?
No worries, little mama.
The End
About the Author
Joanna Campbell Slan is the author of twelve books, including seven on scrapbooking. She is a frequent contributor to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, and her work appears in a variety of other anthologies. A world traveler, Joanna has led an interesting life, appearing before groups of all sizes as a speaker, meeting such celebrities as Jon Bon Jovi and Van Cliburn, and riding a camel to the pyramids in Egypt. Visit her website for tips on scrapbooking and to learn more about her work: www.joannaslan.com.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title_Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
About_the_Author