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Epilogue


Baby, I’ve been searching like everybody else
Can’t say nothing different about myself
Sometimes I’m an angel, and sometimes I’m cruel
When it comes to love, I’m just another fool

Yes, I’ll climb a mountain
I’m gonna swim the sea
There ain’t no act of God, girl
Could keep you safe from me
My arms are reaching out, out across this canyon
I’m asking you to be my true companion
True companion
True companion

So don’t you dare and try to walk away
I’ve got my heart set on our wedding day
I’ve got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it’s you alright

Then I take your hand
I watch my heart set sail
I’ll take my trembling finger
And I’ll lift up your veil
Then I’ll take you home, and with wild abandon
Make love to you just like a true companion
You are my true companion
I got a true companion
True companion…


May 14, 2010

The setting sun cast a golden hue through the white organza billowing in the costal breeze. From his spot on the deck, Nick could see Kyle Ryan and his own brother Aaron kneeling in the sand to light each of the white luminaries that lined the aisle. Every one of the white chairs which formed a single row on either side of the aisle was filled. He knew it was almost time to begin.

He had always imagined he would be nervous on his wedding day, but as his eyes drifted to the white tent set up just a few yards away, Nick felt only tranquility. His nerves were calm, his heart light. In a few minutes, he would be standing at the altar, ready to take Claire’s hand when she came down the aisle and exchange the vows he had been waiting five years to say. Every moment of the last five months had been leading up to this one, and now that it had finally arrived, there was no reason to be nervous. His other half was in that tent, and he couldn’t wait for her to join hands with him and make him whole.

“Well, Nick,” said a voice from behind him, “you ready?”

Nick turned to smile at Brian, who was rolling down the sleeves of his white dress shirt, fastening the buttons at this wrists. “I think I’m more than ready. Do I look okay?” He stood still while the older man reached up to adjust his butter yellow tie, making sure it was tucked smoothly beneath the matching vest, and straightened the jacket of his black tuxedo.

Once satisfied, Brian gave a nod of approval. “You look great,” he grinned.

Aaron came jogging up the deck steps in his matching white shirt and yellow vest and tie. “Luminaries are lit,” he announced, breathless. “The pastor said he’s all set. We ready to get this show on the road?”

“Hold your horses there,” Kevin intervened, approaching with Aaron’s forgotten tuxedo jacket. “Take a minute to get yourself together; we’ve got time.” He handed the jacket to Aaron to put on, then turned to Nick. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like a million bucks,” replied Nick, flashing a toothy smile. “Seriously, I’m great.”

Kevin returned the grin. “Well, you’re getting one in a million, and so is she.” He clapped Nick on the shoulder. “I know the two of you are gonna be very happy together, and you deserve it. You both deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Thanks, Kev.”

“Okay, I’m ready,” Aaron announced. He was more hyper about this than Nick had expected himself to be. Then again, it was his first time being a best man. Nick supposed it was a big day for him too. “You ready, bro?”

Nick grinned and nodded. “Never been readier.” He turned to his five groomsmen, surveying them all as they stood around him in their matching tuxes, each with a yellow rose pinned to his lapel. Brian, Kevin, Howie, AJ, and Aaron… his five brothers, all smiling, all ready and waiting to escort him down to the beach, to the altar where he would await his bride. They had been by his side through the worst days of his life; it only made sense that they should stand up with him on the best.

Feeling an unexpected lump of emotion swell in his throat, he cleared it away and said, “Listen… before we go down there, I just wanna say thanks to you guys, for being here with me today-”

“You think we’d let our little bro get married without us here?” Brian interrupted, with a cheesy grin. “Not a chance.”

Nick smiled. “I know. But, seriously, you guys have been there for me through everything, and I want you to know-”

“Dude, Carter,” AJ interjected gruffly, “let’s save the corny stuff for the toast later, alright? Now go get your girl!”

Nick snorted. “Alright, J,” he laughed. “Let’s go get her.”

***

It was almost time.

The light had changed with the setting sun, and as her bridesmaids scrambled around her, lighting pillar candles to brighten the interior of the tent, Claire stood still in front of a full-length mirror, gazing at her reflection. Though she appeared amazingly calm on the outside, she could feel the butterflies fluttering in full force in her stomach. Yet she was not nervous. There was no reason to be this time. This time, she had no doubts. She was marrying the man she was going to spend forever with. The tingling in her belly was excitement, pure and simple.

Pure and simple. Those were the words to describe today, her wedding day. It was everything her first had not been. She had spent months planning every detail of her wedding with Jamie, a fairytale beginning to a marriage that had been anything but. A scrapbook tucked away inside the house, bound in silver silk and adorned with white lace and purple ribbon, held the remnants of her lavish mistake. She was intent on not repeating it.

After nearly losing Nick in Des Moines, Claire would have been happy to marry him on New Year’s Day in her sweats. She’d actually thrown the idea out there, when they had awoken together that first day of the year, but Nick had insisted on a ceremony. “You know your family would want you to have a wedding,” he’d told her rationally. “It doesn’t have to be anything big or fancy. It can be small and private, if you want. But you owe it to your family, and I owe it to you to give you a real wedding.”

And so, they had planned their wedding together in a mere four months.

Her first wedding had been very traditional. But Claire and Nick had cast tradition aside for their own ceremony, putting together a wedding that would fit their relationship. They had known right away that they wanted to get married on the beach, right down by the ocean Nick so loved. Claire had spent about an hour looking into beach weddings online before deciding she wanted nothing to do with the cheesy, generic, touristy packages offered by website after website. She and Nick had coordinated all of the details themselves. And they had come together beautifully.

Outside, on the private strip of beach behind Nick’s house, an aisle had been combed into the sand and sprinkled with yellow and red rose petals. Lined with white luminaries that would flicker with candlelight as the sun went down over the gulf, the aisle led to an altar with an arch of roses, before which she and Nick would stand, hand in hand, to say their vows to one another. They would marry with only their families and closest friends as witnesses, but after the ceremony, more guests would arrive at the house for the reception. While Claire had worked out most of the details of the wedding ceremony, Nick had organized the reception, hiring caterers and decorators to set it all up. Everything would be ready for them once they said their “I do’s.”

“I do,” Claire mouthed into the mirror, beaming at her reflection. She reached behind her head and carefully brought the front of her veil up and over her face. The short piece of sheer, white organza fluttered away from her lips as she took a deep breath in and out, her bare shoulders rising and falling. She smoothed her white dress, a simple, strapless, tea-length gown with a full skirt that swished around her calves as she walked. There was no train to worry about tripping on this time, no dainty white heels to walk in. She and her bridesmaids were going barefoot in the sand.

“Oh good, you look ready!” Laureen exclaimed, joining her in front of the mirror. “I just peeked out, and the guys are at the altar. It’s about time.”

Claire smiled through her veil at her maid of honor. “I’m ready.”

Dianna had already taken charge, getting the other bridesmaids lined up. “Angel, you’re first,” she said, guiding Nick’s youngest sister to the entrance of the tent. “Then Jenn. I’ll be after Jenn, and then Amber with the kids following behind her. Then Laureen, and then Claire, of course.”

Claire watched as they all got into line. Angel Carter, at the head of the line, swung her long curtain of sleek, black hair over her shoulder so that it trailed down the back, covering half of her pale yellow bridesmaid dress. Jenn, tall and thin like Angel, complimented her perfectly from behind. Dianna completed the trio of dark-haired bridesmaids, her tanned skin bringing a summery look to the strapless, tea-length gowns. Blonde Amber stood behind her, looking over her shoulder to check on five-year-old Kamden, who looked like a perfect gentleman in his miniature tuxedo, with a little girl holding his hand on each side.

Claire’s nephew had been ring-bearer at her first wedding, but this time, she had given him the important title of escort to the flower girls. Caitlin and Delaine had only just started walking, but Claire had dressed them both up in white dresses and given them each a small, white basket of yellow roses in hopes that they would toddle down the aisle with Kamden when the time came.

Laureen took her place behind the twins and their cousin, and, taking a deep breath, Claire drifted to the rear. “Angel, is my dad outside the tent?” she called up to the front of their line.

Angel peeked out. “Yep, he’s here,” she called back over her shoulder.

“Then I think we’re ready. Give your brother the signal.”

Angel stuck her hand outside the tent, flashing a thumbs up to her twin, and Claire knew that Aaron, Nick’s best man, had passed the cue on to the pianist because, a moment later, she heard the music change to the song they had chosen together for her processional. Angel stepped out of the tent as the notes of the Rascal Flatts song “Bless the Broken Road” flowed out of the white baby grand piano sitting in the sand near the altar.

After listening to Claire agonize over classical choices for processional music, kicking herself for using her favorite piece, “Canon in D,” in her first wedding, Nick had been the one to suggest they not use a traditional piece at all, but a song that conveyed a special meaning for them. And this one did. Years after they had separated, dated other people, endured break-ups and failed marriages, this was the perfect song to accompany her up the aisle and back into his arms.

Claire peeked out of the tent as, one by one, her bridesmaids walked barefoot through the sand of the flower-strewn aisle and took their places opposite Nick’s groomsmen. Nick stood in front, waiting for her, and she grinned as she watched him bend down with difficulty and hold his hands out to her daughters as they toddled up the aisle with Kamden, just as she had hoped they would. Delaine stumbled and fell flat on her bottom just a few feet from Nick, and although Claire couldn’t see her face, she could imagine it screwing up and turning red as the one-year-old began to howl. It was Nick who picked her back up, before Claire’s mother snuck up and brought both twins back to the row of chairs to sit on her lap for the ceremony.

Watching the way Nick interacted with her daughters, Claire knew without a doubt that she was not making a mistake today. Everything about this wedding, this marriage, felt right, and when, at last, Laureen had taken her place at the altar, she glided out of the tent with a peaceful sense of confidence.

Her father was there to offer her his arm, and as she took it, he offered her a smile that gleamed with fatherly pride. She grinned back, then focused her eyes ahead, on her groom.

Over the years, she had seen Nick without hair, without his leg, without pride and without hope. But now he stood before her at the altar on two legs, tall, trim, and handsome in his black tuxedo. His blonde hair was windswept, his skin golden in the fading sunlight, and his eyes sparkled the same deep shade of blue as the ocean behind him. They were locked on her, and as she came slowly toward him, he smiled. In his smile, she saw his pride for the present moment and hope for their future together, and she beamed the same back to him, hoping he could see the expression on her face through her thin veil.

The warm, soft sand squished between her bare toes, and here and there, she felt the velvety texture of a rose petal, as she walked down the aisle on the arm of her father. But she didn’t look down, nor from side to side. In her peripherals, she was aware of her grandparents and her brother, her mother and her daughters sitting off to her left, and of Nick’s family sitting to the right, but as she passed by them, she only had eyes for Nick.

They reached the altar, and the spell was broken as she turned to her father. “Love you,” she mouthed through the veil, squeezing his arm before she let go. He smiled broadly as he lifted her veil back over her head.

“Love you too, baby,” he whispered as he pulled her in for a little hug. When he released her, he turned and shook Nick’s hand, then retreated back to his seat beside her mother. In his place, Claire stepped forward, taking both of Nick’s outstretched hands. They were very warm.

Free of the veil that had been fluttering in front of her face, she offered Nick a radiant smile and squeezed his hands as they stood facing one another in front of the pastor.

***

Nick’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down into the face of his bride. He’d seen Claire at her best and her worst: bald, bed-headed… sallow, sunburned… gaunt with leukemia, swollen with pregnancy… nauseous after chemo, clammy after childbirth, and dewy after sex. He’d seen her through it all. Yet he’d never seen her look as beautiful as she did then, with the setting sun making her porcelain skin glow and adding a fiery sheen to her red hair.

She beamed him a smile that was brighter than the sun itself and squeezed his hands, and as he squeezed hers back, feeling the raised, uneven texture of the scars on her palms, he remembered all the sacrifices they both had made to be standing there, together.

Leaning forward, he returned her smile and whispered three words. “We made it.”

Still grinning, she winked. Then they turned their attention to the pastor, who had asked their small gathering of guests to be seated.

As the pastor began his brief sermon, Nick found his mind wandering. He couldn’t take his eyes off Claire, couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible she looked and how incredible he felt. For years, ever since he’d started seeing his friends marry off, one by one, Nick had wanted this. A wife, a family, a life with substance and meaning. In Claire, he had found all three. She was his life, his companion, and with her, she brought a family. Never had he felt so complete.

Several times during the ceremony, she smiled at something the pastor said, or winked at Nick, or ran her thumb over his knuckles. They got through the usual parts of a wedding: a prayer, the Bible verse that goes “love is patient, love is kind,” and the part where the pastor asks if anyone knows a reason for the couple not to be married. “Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” he said. Of course, no one spoke. (Nick was glad Claire hadn’t invited Jamie.)

And then – quite suddenly, it seemed to Nick – it was time for the vows.

Claire had put a lot of thought into the vows they were to say to each other at the wedding. “I don’t want to use the exact traditional vows this time,” she’d explained to Nick and, later, to the pastor who had agreed to marry them. “Jamie and I made those vows to each other, and we broke them. It seems like bad luck or downright hypocrisy to say the exact same words again.”

When the pastor asked, “Nick, will you repeat after me?” Nick was perfectly content not to repeat the lies Jamie had spoken at their wedding. He held Claire’s hands, looked into her blue eyes, and spoke his vows with conviction, knowing that, unlike Jamie, he truly loved Claire, would never hurt her, and would be by her side always. He meant those vows with all of his heart.

“I, Nick,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “take you, Claire, as my friend and love, beside me and apart from me… in sickness and in health….” He squeezed her hands, and she squeezed back, winking at him again. “… in laughter and in tears… asking that you be no other than yourself… loving what I know of you… trusting what I do not know yet… in all the ways that life may find us.”

And, gazing into his eyes, with a smile on her lips, Claire repeated them back. “I, Claire, take you, Nick, as my friend and love, beside me and apart from me, in sickness and in health, in laughter and in tears, asking that you be no other than yourself, loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not know yet, in all the ways that life may find us.”

All the ways life may find us. They had been so many things to each other over the years. Allies, comrades, friends, companions. Romantic partners, exes, shoulders to lean on, hands to hold. They’d seen each other through clinic visits and hospital stays, relapses and remissions, break-ups and new relationships, moves and homecomings. They had supported each other through concerts and album releases, the births of babies and sicknesses of loved ones. Neither of them knew what the future might hold, but Nick did know one thing. No matter what, he would stay by Claire’s side through anything, and when his life ran out, he would want her by his side in eternity.

This he knew, as he slid a platinum wedding band, the symbol of his commitment to her, onto her finger, and watched her do the same. The matching rings gleamed in the last traces of sunlight, as they held each other’s hands and listened to the pastor read a prayer for their marriage.

“Now that Nick and Claire have given themselves to each other by solemn vow, with the joining of hands and exchanging of rings in the presence of this company, by the authority of the state of Florida and that almighty God, I pronounce that they are husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder. Nick,” said the pastor, and Nick turned to him with a grin, knowing what was coming next. “You may kiss your bride.”

Squeezing her hands, Nick pulled Claire to him, dipped his head, and kissed her lips. He heard people clap and, behind him, the unmistakable sounds of Aaron and AJ whooping. Claire grinned as he released her, her cheeks as pink as the sky, and they turned to face their small audience. Nick’s eyes drifted from his father, mother, and sisters to his beaming new in-laws, as the pastor professed, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to present Mr. and Mrs. Nickolas Carter.”

AJ and Aaron whooped louder, and as Nick escorted her back up the aisle, his barefoot bride joined in.

***

Hours later, a party was in full swing up at the house. Nick and Claire had skipped the fancy, sit-down dinner and instead had the caterers serve drinks and hors d’oeuvres while their guests, everyone from Claire’s former coworkers to Nick’s friends from the music biz, mingled on the deck. The white lights and organza coiled around the railings and the roses floating in the pool gave it a romantic aura. Below, a dance floor had been laid out on the lawn, and there was both a DJ and the set-up for a live band.

When the DJ announced it was time for the first dance, most of the guests made their way down to the lawn, while a few gathered at the edge of the deck to watch. Alone on the dance floor, Claire drifted into Nick’s arms, while the opening notes to “Open Arms” played. As they turned and swayed, his arm tight around her waist, her hand in his, memories rushed through Claire’s mind. She thought of Nick singing this song to her at his charity concert… of begging the DJ at a club in Hawaii to play it so they could slow-dance… and of her nightmarish first wedding dance with Jamie.

She started to giggle. “Remember when Jamie requested that god-awful ‘NSync song for our first dance?” she muttered to Nick, sticking out her tongue.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a look. “How could I forget? That should have been your sign right there.”

“I know,” she smiled, feeling sheepish. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Pulling her closer, he kissed her on her forehead. “I already have.”

After the ‘NSync fiasco, she had made a point to discuss with Nick ahead of time what their first dance song should be, but there had been no discussion needed. The Journey song was it. It had been “their song” since before they’d even started dating, and now, six years later, they danced to it in celebration of their marriage.

When the song ended, everyone clapped, and the DJ, an old friend of Nick’s from Orlando, invited more couples out onto the dance floor. “This next song is a dedication from the bride, Claire, to her new groom, Nick,” he announced, as a new song began.

Claire looked up into Nick’s eyes and smiled, as his arm tightened around her waist again. Instead of toasts, it had been Nick’s idea for both of them to dedicate a song to each other. Maybe it was the musician in him, or maybe he just wasn’t comfortable pouring his heart out in a speech given in front of all his industry buddies and her friends too. In any case, Claire had liked the idea.

They had decided to keep the songs a secret from each other until the reception, and although Claire had thought about choosing something funny (she’d seriously considered a cheesy old Backstreet Boys song called “Anywhere for You” that Laureen had introduced her to, imagining the priceless look on Nick’s face when he heard his teenage self singing), she had eventually gone the sappy route and selected Vanessa Williams’s “Save the Best for Last.” In her mind, its lyrics made it perfect for Nick’s and her story.


“Cause there was a time when all I did was wish
You’d tell me this was love.
It’s not the way I hoped, or how I planned,
But somehow, it’s enough.”


As they danced, she thought of all the times she’d almost lost him, and all the times they’d been lost to each other, involved with other people, from Leah to Laureen, and Tim to Jamie. Somehow they’d found their way back to each other, and here they were, on their wedding day.


“And now we’re standing face to face.
Isn’t this world a crazy place?
Just when I thought our chance had passed,
You go and save the best for last.”


When the song ended, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed Nick’s lips. “You’re my best…” she whispered, kissing him again, “… and my last…” Kiss. “… and my forever…” Kiss. “… and I love you.” Kiss again.

Nick grinned broadly. “Well, you’re my everything,” he murmured against her lips, returning her kisses. “I love you too.”

The DJ must have been done with the sappiness, because Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” revved up over the sound system next. As the “Hey little sister…” part began, Kyle appeared out of nowhere and asked to cut in. Nick disappeared, leaving Claire to dance with her brother, and the next time she caught a glimpse of him, he was dancing with his own little sister, Angel. Soon, he disappeared again among the clusters of people who had flocked onto the dance floor.

Claire was enjoying herself, dancing to the eighties music with her brother and her friends, not paying a bit of attention to the DJ or the band setup off to one side of him. She didn’t, until the song ended and the DJ said, “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it’s now time for a song from the groom, Nick, to his lovely bride, Claire. Here’s the groom himself… Nickay!”

There was silence at first, and then, she heard his voice.

“I wanna make you smile, whenever you’re sad… carry you around when your arthritis is bad… oh, all I wanna do is grow old with you…”

Claire gasped, her mouth stretching into a wide, open smile, as her guests cleared a path for her to see Nick, on the makeshift bandstand with an acoustic guitar, singing the song she’d once proclaimed “the sweetest thing ever,” Adam Sandler’s song from the end of “The Wedding Singer.”

“I’ll get you medicine when your tummy aches,
Build you a fire if the furnace breaks.
Oh, it could be so nice,
Growing old with you…”

He looked up from his mic and grinned at her as she came forward, standing before him with what she was sure was a huge, dopey smile on her face and hearts in her eyes.

“I’ll miss you, kiss you,
Give you my coat when you are cold,
Need you, feed you,
Even let you hold the remote control,
So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink,
Put you to bed when you’ve had too much to drink.
Oh, I could be the man who grows old with you.
I wanna grow old with you.”

As he strummed the last chord, everyone went absolutely wild with applause for him, including Claire, but Nick was not done. He began strumming a new, driving riff on the guitar, and as he did, he was joined by another guitarist, bassist, and drummer. The drummer immediately added cymbals to the guitar riff Nick was playing, and Claire narrowed her eyes. She thought she recognized it, but she wasn’t positive until, grinning at her, Nick opened his mouth to sing.

“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you…”

Bobbing her head to the beat of the music, Claire laughed in delight, recognizing the Proclaimers song as he sang it.

“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you…”

Their eyes locked onto each other as he sang and strummed his guitar, keeping the rhythm with his right leg, and she danced, feeling the emotion swell in her throat. The sentiment hidden in the simplicity of this song fit their relationship perfectly, and when she thought of Nick and all that he had overcome in the time that she’d known him, the chorus seemed especially meaningful.

“But I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more,
Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles
To fall down at your door…”

Tears rose in her eyes, tears of pride and gratitude and utter joy, and she laughed through them as she danced, beaming up at him. She could see the smile on his lips and his own elation shining in his eyes, as he sang, joined in harmony by his guitarist.

“When I’m working, yes I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you,
And when the money comes in for the work I do,
I’ll pass almost every penny onto you.
When I come home, well I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you,
And if I grow old, well I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you

“But I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more,
Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles
To fall down at your door…”

Claire could hear people around her singing along now, and she joined in too, mouthing the words back up to Nick. Even in his own backyard, he performed like a pro, working the crowd through the call and return section, his charisma shining through as he hammed it up in front of the mic.

“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.
And when I’m dreaming, well I know I’m gonna dream,
I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.
When I go out, well I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you,
And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be,
I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.
I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home with you

“But I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more,
Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles
To fall down at your door.”

When the final chord rang out, Nick set his guitar down and jumped down from the raised platform, landing on his good leg. Claire threw herself into his arms, too moved for words. “That was… perfect,” she finally managed to say, beaming at him. “Just perfect.”

That was their whole relationship, she realized. It was unusual in many ways, their romance, born out of a friendship that had come from shared pain. Some had thought it could never work, an average girl who was not particularly beautiful or talented or well-known dating an attractive popstar who was famous and rich, and at times, Claire had agreed. All they had in common was a sense of humor, a love for eighties rock, and cancer. Yet somehow, their quirky relationship had worked. They were meant to be together.

In its imperfection, it was perfect.

“I want you to meet my old friend, Brent Pongetti,” Nick was saying, and Claire realized they had been joined by his guitarist. “Brent, I’m proud to introduce my wife, Claire Carter.”

Claire Carter... She felt her heart swell with happiness over the way he introduced her, realizing that this was the way she would introduce herself for the rest of her life. “Hi, I’m Claire Carter,” she imagined herself saying, as she stood at Nick’s side, meeting his fans backstage or mingling at some big celebrity party, “Nick’s wife.” It was never a life she had pictured for herself, but it was the reality of Nick’s, and she was ready to be a part of it.

It was just meant to be.


When the years have done irreparable harm
I can see us walking slowly arm in arm
Just like that couple on the corner do
‘Cause girl, I will always be in love with you

When I look in your eyes
I’ll still see that spark
Until the shadows fall
Until the room grows dark
Then when I leave this Earth
I’ll be with the angels standing
I’ll be out there waiting for my true companion
Just for my true companion
True companion

- “True Companion” by Marc Cohn


***

Later in the evening, when Claire had finished her father/bride dance and gone to check on the twins, it was time for the traditional mother/groom dance. Nick had debated whether or not to break tradition and leave out such a dance, but it had been Claire who’d convinced him to dance with his mother. “If I’m going to have a dance with my dad, you should have one with your mom. It would be a nice gesture,” she’d urged him.

Nick had had his doubts, but he forced a smile onto his face and joined his mother on the dance floor anyway. The well-known piano chords of the Beatles’ “Let It Be” played as he put his arm around her and took her hand in his. Dressed in sparkly black, her hair freshly bleached, Jane Carter smiled awkwardly and patted his back.

“You looked great out here with Claire,” she murmured, as they began to rock back and forth. “You know, I’m glad you worked things out with her. She does seem like a great girl.”

“She is,” Nick nodded. “I love her more than anything.”

“I know. I can tell.” Jane offered another brief smile. “I’m happy for you, Nick.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

They danced on in silence, rotating slowly around the dance floor. After a few more bars of the song, Jane spoke again. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, Nick, but I know now that you were right. You were right to-” She paused to swallow. “-to let them take your leg. I thought it would ruin your life, but I was wrong. It saved your life instead. And I’m grateful for that.”

Nick, too, swallowed hard, feeling one of his now-rare phantom limb sensations as he thought back to the last few days he’d had his real leg, when Jane had pestered him about looking into alternative medicine and sworn that no one was going to cut off her son’s leg. They had fought over it, and he had shut her out of his life for a year while he went through the amputation and recovery. Now that five more had passed, she was finally admitting that his decision, albeit difficult, had been the right one to make.

He nodded, but said, “No one could have known that at the time, though. I didn’t know what was going to happen. It just seemed like my best shot. And I think it was. I’m alive, and I’m cured… I don’t regret it.”

There were still days when he awoke and, in the hassle of having to put on his prosthesis just to walk downstairs, wondered how it might have worked out differently, if he had sought other opinions and refused the amputation. But then he would look at Claire, in bed next to him, or peek in on the twins, and realize that if he hadn’t given up his leg, he probably wouldn’t still be alive to enjoy his new life with them. He had sacrificed a limb for a second chance at life, and the life he had now was worth it. He had a wife, and step-children. His music career was still going strong, and he was happy. Maybe happier than he had ever been, even when he’d had his leg. Truly, life worked in mysterious ways.

“You shouldn’t,” replied Jane. “You’ve still got your career and, now, a family… all the things I always wanted for you. You have grown up to be a wonderful man who appreciates life and knows what’s important. I’m proud of you, Nick.”

Despite their battles over the years, Nick found that his mother’s words meant a lot to him. There was still a childlike part of him that wanted her approval, and to know he had it gave him a feeling of contentment. Maybe they would never have the kind of relationship most of the guys had with their mothers, or the kind Claire had with her mom, his new mother-in-law. But he didn’t want Jane to be out of his life forever. He was glad he had invited her to the wedding, glad he had agreed to this dance. Claire had been right.

As the song came to an end, he smiled genuinely and hugged her, murmuring into her ear, “Love you, Mom.”

Jane squeezed him tightly and whispered the words back. “I love you too.”

***

When all of the traditional dances and toasts were out of the way, it was time for Nick and Claire to cut the cake. Their wedding cake was a gorgeous, three-tiered affair with white buttercream frosting adorned with red and yellow fondant roses and featuring layers of lemon cake, white cake with raspberry filling, and chocolate cake with cookies and cream filling. In later years, Claire’s favorite wedding pictures would be the ones of Nick and her laughing as they crammed cake into each other’s mouths, for these were the most genuine, showing them as the couple who loved to have fun and were not afraid to get a little sticky.

After the cake plates had been cleared away, Claire threw her bouquet (Laureen caught it, much to Dianna’s chagrin, since her wedding was the following month), and Nick threw her garter (Howie caught that, which was all too perfect considering he was now the last unwed Backstreet Boy – Claire accused Nick of fixing it, and maybe he had), and they shared their last dance to “Bless the Broken Road,” bringing the evening full circle.

With their wedding party committed to supervising the clean-up, they went inside to kiss the twins and left them in the care of Claire’s parents as they walked hand-in-hand down to Nick’s boat dock. There, his small yacht awaited them, already packed with their luggage and enough supplies for a few days at sea. They had talked of traveling to Australia or Japan, some of Nick’s favorite places to tour, for their honeymoon, even laughed about giving France another try, but in the end, they had decided on a leisurely cruise down to the Keys, where they would check into a small, beachside resort and spend a relaxing week together.

They waved up to the last of their guests as Nick guided the boat away from the port, but once they were out in the open water, too far to be seen by anyone on the shore, he dropped anchor and his pants along with it. He helped Claire unzip her pretty, white wedding dress, and, within minutes, the garment was draped across one of the seats. They consummated their marriage under the open night sky, and when their exhaustion finally caught up to them, they spooned beneath the stars, snuggled in a nest of blankets.

Claire awoke with her head on Nick’s bare chest, comforted by the feel of his warm skin against her cheek and the steady thumping sound of his heart in her ear. The sky was beginning to lighten when she opened her eyes. She raised her left hand and could see her new wedding band gleaming next to her engagement ring. Today’s a new day, she thought. I’m not Claire Ryan anymore, or Claire Turner. I’m Claire Carter.

She lifted her head to look into the sleeping face of her husband. In the dim morning light, she could see the shadows of the lines starting to form on his forehead and around his eyes, lines that told of the stress and struggles he’d been through in his young adult life. But on his slightly parted lips lay a faint smile, and seeing this made her smile too. She lowered her face to his and brushed his lips with hers.

At her touch, his eyes opened, reflecting the exact color of the early morning sky. His smile grew. “Morning,” he whispered.

“Morning.”

He sat up to kiss her, then pulled her back down into their warm nest. As she relaxed against his chest again, he stroked her bare back, his hands running down and up her spine and into her hair, raising goosebumps of delight all over her body. They lay that way for some time, perfectly relaxed, perfectly content, until Nick asked, his voice rumbling in her ear, “So… now that you’re Mrs. Carter and all… are you gonna be a dutiful wife and bring me some breakfast in bed?”

Claire sat up quickly, so quickly that he laughed, and when she looked back down at him, she saw that he was smirking, his eyes dancing wickedly. “Excuse me? Now that I’m your beautiful wife, which is what I think you meant to say, I thought you would want to pamper me.”

Nick cocked an eyebrow, seeming to consider this for a moment. Then he wrinkled his nose and said, “Yeah… but you’ve got a leg up on me, so get up and go bring us some food.”

“Oh fine,” Claire huffed, swatting him playfully before she scrambled up.

He watched as she sashayed off into the cabin, one of the blankets draped around her like a toga. The smile didn’t seem to want to leave his lips, even once she disappeared from his sight. He rolled over and saw that the inky purple sky was turning pink at the edges.

The sun was rising again.

***

Additional lyrics: “Save the Best for Last” by Vanessa Williams, “I Wanna Grow Old With You” by Adam Sandler, “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers