Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(68)
“You know what?” Lauren said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and gripping her hands together. “I’d begun to doubt that there were men like Rooster left in this world. It’s almost as if he’s too good to be true.”
“I believe Max told me that Rooster said basically the same thing about you.”
Lauren’s eyes went soft. “My parents and sister will arrive this afternoon, and Mom insisted I buy a new dress … I didn’t pack anything appropriate for a wedding, but then it isn’t like I’d planned to get married this weekend.”
“Have you been in touch with Elisa and Garry?”
“Yes.” Lauren planted her hands on top of her head. “But I can’t tell them. Not right away. Their daughter eloped, and they’re headed to eastern Washington to meet with their daughter’s husband and his family. I have to be at the store Tuesday afternoon. Is that nuts? Rooster and I aren’t going to get any time for a honeymoon; I’m not worried, though. We’ll take one later.”
“Is Rooster flying back to Seattle with you?”
Lauren nodded. “He has the next several days free, and as soon as Elisa and Garry are back we’re going to take off ourselves, just the two of us. My parents mentioned holding a reception in Seattle later in the summer.”
“That sounds perfect. Be sure and tell them I’ll be happy to help with that.”
“Thank you; that’s so kind.” She bit into her lower lip. “I wish I could tell Elisa, but she’s already got so much on her mind with her daughter and her new son-in-law that I don’t want to add to it.” Lauren checked her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the convention. I stopped by to let you know how grateful I am that you’re going to be here for the wedding.”
Rooster didn’t have much experience with these matters; Bethanne was the expert when it came to weddings and such, being that she was in the business. Still, Rooster was astonished at how well everything had come together. From all outward appearances it looked as if this wedding had been planned weeks in advance.
The hotel’s wedding chapel was filled with the most gorgeous arrangements of white flowers. Rooster stood with Lauren under an archway with drooping white and blue wisteria. Amazingly, his bride, along with his future mother-in-law, had found the most beautiful beaded white dress that fit Lauren as if it had been custom-sewn for her. Lauren’s sister was at her side as the matron of honor.
Max stood beside him as his best man, and, frankly, Rooster was grateful. Twice during the actual ceremony he went light-headed and feared he was about to pass out. While it could be attributed to exhaustion, the time change, and excitement, he knew otherwise. This was love so intense it threatened to overwhelm him. Ever since he’d lost his parents, he’d drifted, anchorless, basically alone. Lauren had changed that. No longer was he a sole entity. With her in his life, he had hope and a future. Every time he thought about having children with her, he could feel his blood pressure skyrocket. Naturally, he hoped for a son, but he certainly would be pleased with a daughter as well.
When it came time to repeat their vows, he could barely get the words out fast enough. When Lauren repeated her vows, her gaze found his, and tears welled in her eyes as she said the words. Her voice seemed to reverberate around the chapel. To his astonishment, he felt moisture fill his own eyes, which he quickly blinked away.
The room seemed to be filled with happiness. After the ceremony, when the pronouncement was made and he’d kissed Lauren, they were instantly surrounded by family and friends. He saw that many of them had felt the same emotion, the same overwhelming sense that while this marriage might have been arranged quickly, the two of them, Lauren and he, were meant to be together.
Chapter Twenty-five
If you don’t like it, it’s just not done yet.
—Heidi Dascher,
fiber artist, The Artful Ewe
“Grandma,” Casey said, looking down at the Scrabble board and frowning, “P-O-S-E-T isn’t a word.”
Lydia’s mother seemed confused and looked to Lydia for clarification. “It isn’t?”
“Check the dictionary,” Lydia suggested.
“Okay.” Casey reached for her cellphone and concentrated on that.
It was a lazy Tuesday afternoon, and the drizzle and overcast skies prevented Lydia from the yardwork she’d planned on doing. Brad certainly hadn’t objected. The Mariners game was being televised, and Cody hated yardwork nearly as much as his father did. Seeing that the men would be involved in baseball for a good portion of the evening, Casey had suggested they visit Grandma.
Lydia was eager to spend time with her daughter. The ongoing saga with Casey’s nightmares continued. Just the night before, once again, the teenager had woken the entire household with her screams. Lydia had spent forty-five minutes with her afterward, holding and comforting Casey. These dreams shook Lydia. Because her daughter refused to discuss any aspect of the nightmare, Lydia was left with a feeling of helplessness and frustration.
“Nope, sorry, Grandma,” Casey said as she set her phone aside. “Poset isn’t a real word.”
Mary Lou Hoffman looked crestfallen. “I thought for sure that was a good word.”
“P-O-E-T-S works,” Casey supplied, and shuffled the tiny wooden tiles around, helping her grandmother. “And look, by putting it in this spot it adds up to even more points because you land on a double-point word space.”