| |
Three weeks later
Randy’s wedding day was a blur of white lace topped with sprinkles of promise. Murmured I do’s and Pastor Hunter’s formal introduction of Mr. and Mrs. Eli Page had transitioned into lingering touches and longing looks between the bride and groom as the reception wore on.
Eli held her close as they swayed to the opening dance. “How long before we can ditch this party, Mrs. Page?”
“Too long,” Randy answered, stretching up on her toes to claim his mouth. The action brought hoots and applause from the assembled wedding guests.
The clock struck six, and Randy swirled among the guests. It was almost time to leave for their honeymoon, five days in Cozumel, a secluded hut on the beach surrounded by the sounds of the ocean. Not the two-week trip they’d planned for, but it was one of those lemon/lemonade moments life sometimes tossed in your path. She intended to make the most of it, but first they had to finish taking pictures, and she needed to gather everyone. She met her new husband’s eye across the room and smiled when Eli lifted his hands in an I-don’t-have-a-clue gesture.
She made a circular motion with her fingers and turned to keep looking. She spotted Mac and headed in that direction. “There you are. The photographer is ready for us.”
Randy Page took a seat in a gilded chair and spread her billowing skirts around her feet. Eli stood behind her, his hands resting on her bare shoulders.
He stooped to whisper in her ear. “I love you, Mrs. Page.”
“I love you, my husband.” She held her arms out, and Mac placed Astor in Randy’s lap. The little girl’s lavender dress added a splash of color against the bridal white. “I love you too, baby girl.”
Astor looked up, placed both hands on Randy’s face, and smiled. “Love Mamma.”
The photographer captured the moment before a single tear had time to fall.