Page 100 of Married in Michigan

Mom has gotten worse during these last couple of weeks before the wedding—Paxton’s plans to bring her to DC to live with us fell through, because she was too sick to move, and so I’ve made the flight out to see her nearly every day. I think seeing me learning how to be happy with Paxton has given her permission to stop fighting so hard, which is heartbreaking for me, but I can see how tired she is. I saw her last night, and she was in and out of consciousness. She saw me, kissed my cheek, told me she loved me—three squeezes of her hand.

I blink hard, push all that away.

Bum-BUM-bum-bum….

The organ is loud, and I hear a rustle of people standing up.

The doors open.

I see Pax standing at the altar, and suddenly everything is okay—the whole world narrows down to him, and only him. I don’t even see the world-famous interior of St. Patrick’s—just Paxton.

I’m aware of whispers as the audience sees me for the first time.

I ignore them all.

Focus on Paxton’s grin.

One voice cuts through my screen: Camilla’s.

“No!” Shrill, angry. “No!”

“Mother, enough,” Paxton snaps.

“Nother!”

“Yes, Mother, her.” Paxton is proud, and I’ve never heard such triumph in a voice before.

I manage to widen my scope of sight to take in Camilla, standing in front of me, fury crackling in her eyes.

“You!” she snarls.

I summon a polite smile. “Hi, Camilla.”

She whirls on Paxton. “A hotel maid, Paxton? Really?”

Paxton’s eyes go glacial, sharper than obsidian and harder than diamond. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Mother.”

She clicks her teeth together, and then she looks me over, and goes pale as eggshells. “Mother’s gown?” Then her eyes fix on the ring on my finger. “The ring? Paxton, really? The ring?”

Paxton descends the steps and takes my hands in his, leads me past the fuming dragon that is Camilla deBraun. We stand face to face in front of the minister, pastor, reverend, priest, whatever.

“This is too much, Paxton. I won’t allow it.”

Paxton grins. “I’ve bad news for you, Mom.” He gestures at the cathedral. “You put deposits down on the venue, and everything else. Guess what, Mom? I paid for it all. So, this isn’tyourwedding anymore. You planned it, and by god you did an amazing job, I must say. But it’s nowmywedding.” He kisses my knuckles. “Ourwedding.”

She narrows her eyes, and she seems ready to spit on the floor out of sheer rage. “Quit pretending, Paxton.”

He laughs. “Funny thing is, Mom, up until about three weeks ago, I would have been pretending.” He smiles at me. “Then an odd thing happened.”

Camilla eyes me, and I let every ounce of my nascent, still-growing love for Paxton bleed through into my gaze.

“I fell in love.” He laughs again. “I got engaged because you made me.” He squeezes my hands three times. “I’m getting married because I love her.”

Camilla huffs and whirls away, preparing to march out.

“Mom, wait,” Paxton calls out, and she stops.

“What, Paxton?” she snaps, her voice icy and brittle.