False Start: A Football Romance (29 page)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Skila

Two weeks fly by. I’m glad we decided not to wait any longer before getting married. At the rate this baby is growing inside of me, I wouldn’t have been able to find a sheet that fit me in another week or two. Staring at myself in the mirror, I sigh. "I look like a damn beached whale . . . and why am I wearing white? I’m clearly not the traditional virginal bride."

"You look fantastic. I hope when my day comes, I look half as beautiful as you." I half-smile at my reflection and shake my head.

"Lisa, you will be beautiful, there is no doubt about that. You always have been and always will be."

She grins and hugs me tightly before stepping back and pushing me toward the chair at the vanity. I’ve given her free reign over my hair and makeup today. Usually, it's something my mother would be here for, but I don’t have that luxury. She passed away six years ago from stage-four breast cancer. The hole her absence left in my heart was wide and gaping, unfillable, but over the years, I’ve managed to bear the pain better and better.

Today is a struggle, and not just for me. I know it’s hard for Kiptyn too. We are being married two weeks after hospitalizing his brother, his best friend, who up until two weeks ago, he’d thought was killed in a suicide bombing in Israel. I know he wants Camryn by his side during the ceremony, but it isn’t possible right now.

Maybe later, we can have another more elaborate wedding, not that we would need it. As far as I’m concerned, the wedding doesn’t matter at all. The marriage is the important thing. We’re having the wedding for our friends and family so they won’t feel left out, and I’m glad we are, but the real test isn’t the ceremony and how many flowers we have, or what food is served. It comes later, when times get tough and we want to run in the opposite direction of each other. It will happen. I know that.

Every family goes through something similar, but what makes a healthy marriage is the way they handle those situations. I refuse to ever walk away. I'll stand by his side for the rest of my days, through the good and the bad.

Lisa tugs my hair tight, weaving a light blue ribbon through the mass of silky brown locks. The ribbon was given to me by Kiptyn’s granny. She said it had been his mother's when she was a little girl. I burst into tears when she offered it to me, my hormones getting the best of me. It amazes me how openly she has accepted me into her family and her heart.

“I’m so sorry. My hormones are crazy,” I try to say.

She wasn’t affected by my tears one bit.

“Oh, sweetie, this is just the beginning. That little boy will be walking on your heart for years to come, but it's worth every scuff mark,” she said, pulling me into a comforting embrace. I stand there, letting her hold me. I could pull away if I want to, but something about her calm nature comforts me. I smile into the mirror, remembering.

Lisa looks up, meeting my eyes, and she smiles back at me, "So, I’ve been meaning to ask . . . does anyone else know?"

She gazes down at my stomach, and I know what she’s asking. She wants to know if we have told anyone else that the baby is not Kip’s. I thought about it. Hell, I tried to bring it up to Kiptyn, but with everything going on right now, it’s just not the right thing to do.

The family already had to suffer the shock of a lifetime finding out that Camryn is still alive, and as amazing as that news is, they can’t even fully celebrate it because of the condition he came back in. No one knows exactly what happened while he was over there, and I have a feeling no one ever will. Camryn is tight-lipped about it. I can’t say I blame him one bit.

"No, and they don't need to. Not right now, anyway—maybe never. I signed the papers terminating his rights. It’s the only way he would agree to stay in the hospital and willingly get help. I hated doing it, but maybe he was right. He knows better than anyone else if he’s capable of being a father.”

I still can’t believe he was so adamant about giving up his rights to the baby. It killed me to sign those papers. My heart shredded for my unborn child. I felt like he was giving up on him before he was even given a chance, but over the last two weeks, I have come to realize that Camryn needed to do that for himself.

He can’t focus on getting well if he’s constantly worried about the safety and wellbeing of another human. He needs to be free and clear of all worry and commitment so that he can focus on himself. There are still times I don’t agree with it, but I understand.

“Stay away from the Bo's moonshine, Lisa. I can't have this getting out and creating drama. Kip knows and you know, that's it . . . and for goodness’ sake, don't let Nana sucker you into her ‘secret stash’.”

"I know, Sky, I know."

She looks so solemn. I can tell she understands how much this means to me, and I love her even more for that. She is my best friend. I know I can trust her with any secret I have. I always have. I shoot daggers at her, raising my eyebrows in the mirror dramatically.

"I'll be watching you, Lisa," I reply, trying to be serious. She bursts out laughing and drops the brush she’s holding. It hits the floor with a loud thud and rolls across the room. About that time, a knock on the door startles me.

"Sky, Lisa, y’all in there?" Devan calls through the door. He sounds worried and out of breath. I wonder what’s going on and why he’s looking for me. I glance at the clock, noting the time. We still have at least half an hour before the ceremony is supposed to start, so I know he isn’t here to walk me down aisle.

"Yeah, Dev, come in."

The door swings open wide, and Devan glances at me, but his eyes only bounce off me before settling on Lisa, who squirms under his gaze. She looks everywhere around the room but at him.

"Sorry to bust in on you, but Nana is trying to doctor the punch,” he says, still staring directly at her. I’m staring at her now too, noting the blush that is creeping up her ivory neck and coating her cheeks. She turns around and pretends to straighten the makeup on the vanity, but every second or so, her eyes glance up in the mirror and catch his.

"Seriously? What’s she trying to put in it?" I ask while making a mental note to question my best friend on this strange behavior later. It’s very obvious she has been keeping something from me.

"Bourbon." Shit, that’s not good. Leave it to my Nana to try to get the whole wedding party drunk off their asses before the wedding. I’d be surprised if she didn’t spike the brownies too.

"Oh hell, the ladies at the church will stone us all. Devan, go distract her until I get down there."

He nods and races out the door and down the spiraling staircase to the kitchen. I slip my feet into the sandals I’ve decided to wear today instead of heels. Slipping and falling again while seven months pregnant doesn’t sound fun, especially not on my wedding day.

"I knew having the wedding in a church was a bad idea. Between Nana and Bo, we are all going to end up kicked out and thrown in hell for something, I’m sure."

Lisa laughs, but it sounds choked.

“Come on, bitch. We will talk about your secrets later,” I tell her and grab her arm, pulling her behind me.

She breathes a sigh of relief and follows me down the stairs to attempt to save the world from the force known to most as Nana. I just hope we aren’t too late and that Devan or Jaxon were able to intercept her before she poured too much in. Lord, why didn’t I just go to Vegas and let Elvis marry me? I could have already been enjoying my honeymoon. When I enter the kitchen, Nana is cornered by the refrigerator, and Devan and Jaxon both have their hands raised in the air in surrender. I can't see what she’s doing or holding, but it can't be good.

"Nana, what are you doing? You know you can't spike the punch. This is going to a church,” I say, pulling my brothers away, taking the can opener from my Nana, and placing it in the sink.

“Y’all go make sure no one drank any and taste it all. Lord, we can't have people getting drunk at church.”

I shove the boys from the kitchen and then turn back to Nana, shaking my head in dismay. Placing my hands on my ever-expanding hips, I prepare to scold my seventy-year-old grandmother. “Nana, we are going to church for my wedding. Church, you, God, Jesus. Ring a bell?" I ask.

"Of course. I knew that. I just thought it might be fun to liberate the old fuddy duddies a bit," she states with her signature wink, and I can't help but laugh.

Of course, it doesn’t help that Lisa pours two shots and passes one to Nana, and together, they down them while toasting liberating fuddy duddies. I can't do anything but shake my head and laugh and pray that I make it through this day.
"You are too much sometimes," I say, wrapping my arms around her. She is exasperating, but I wouldn’t change one thing about her.

"You know you love me, Sky."

"You know I do." She hugs me back before pulling away and slipping an envelope in my hand. I look down at it, bewildered. I didn’t expect her to get me anything for a wedding present. Growing up, we always had what we needed, but we weren’t by any means rich.

"This is my wedding gift to you. Only open it when you are alone." I can’t imagine what she could have gotten me and why she wants me to wait until I’m alone to open it. My curiosity is piqued, to say the least, but it will have to wait.

“Thank you, Nana.”

“Oh, pish posh, I’ll hear no such thing. Now come on and let’s get you hitched before that baby makes his appearance,” she says, leading me out of the kitchen and down the back hall to the front of the church.

As we pass a window, I get my first look at the masterpiece in the back of the church were the ceremony is being held. Since I’m not a member of the church, I didn’t feel right being married inside, but Kip’s granny wasn’t hearing any of that. She introduced me to the preacher, Michael, and his wife, and after a lovely chat one afternoon, my nerves were settled and the arrangements set.

Michael is very accommodating, allowing us the use of the back field of the church for the reception. I ended up having very little to do with the actual planning of everything. I communicated my preferences on colors and my favorite flowers and whatnot to Lisa, who then worked with Grace to make it all happen. It worked out better that way, since I spent most of those two weeks on bed rest before my doctor released me. Thankfully, that call had come three days ago.

I am now officially cleared for everything—including the honeymoon.

We make it outside, and my hand covers my mouth and the gasp that escapes. The yard turned out breathtaking. My eyes are drawn to several places at once. Smooth, white tablecloths are spread on simply set round tables. Glowing paper lanterns are strung from tree to tree, illuminating the area perfectly.

Choosing to do the ceremony at dusk is the best call I could have made, and truthfully, it wasn’t my decision at all. It had been Kiptyn’s. He said he wanted to marry me, his Midnight Sky, beneath the twinkle of God’s stars. I couldn’t have denied him that even if I had wanted to.

The dim light of candles burning on the tabletops sets the mood for the evening, but the dusk sky turning shades of orange and purple adds a mystic touch that no one could have anticipated. It's beautiful, amazing. I want to capture this moment and savor it for the rest of my life. It’s magical. It’s perfect.

I hear another collective
oh
and realize that, again, everyone's eyes are on me. I look around the yard as if to greet them all. Standing around the first table is Bo, Devan and Lisa’s mother, Gwen. She nods at me with an especially large smile stretching across her face. I see tears in her already red eyes, and I know that it won't be long before half of the congregation is bawling, me included.

At the end of the table, Nana is swallowing another glass of clear liquor, her ‘secret stash’, I suppose. I shift my attention to the other table, where Kip’s grandmother, the ever so appropriately named Grace, is setting out food. To her left is Pastor Michaels’s wife, Genell, with her hands clasped together over her chest and a look of adoration on her face.

I’m thankful someone had the forethought to put Nana and Bo at a table of their own. I couldn’t imagine them sitting with Grace or Genell. Actually, I could imagine it. In very elaborate detail, which is why I need to make a mental note to thank whoever arranged the seating after this is over.

Across from Genell is Jordan, who gives me a sexy smirk that quickly turns into a full-blown smile. I haven’t spent that much time with him, but over the last week, I’ve grown to really like Jordan. He is the one who defended Lisa’s honor that night so long ago at the club, and for that, I will always have a soft spot for him.

Now Chris, on the other hand, is a totally different story.

Where Jordan is laid back and a good ole country boy at heart, Chris is abrasive and vulgar. He doesn’t respect anyone and feels like it’s his right to have whoever or whatever he wants when he wants it. I don’t like him, but then again, I don’t have to. He’s Kip’s friend, not mine.

And finally, there is Carly, Bo’s wife. She’s a bit straight-faced, but she’s lovingly stroking the blond hair of the little boy standing next to her with one hand while holding his hand in the other. I give him a little wave, and he giggles as he shyly buries his face in Carly’s side. How good it is to see them all here today.