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
AN: Click here to see pictures
of the wedding attire.