At least they were getting married in their own home. That helped. Simple and no frills. Nash did his best to appear calm. He wanted this, that much was a fact. He didn’t need to convince himself. Nerves were normal on one’s wedding day, at least that’s what he told himself. Harley had certainly told him enough stories about freaked-out brides and grooms that he knew his own feelings were relatively tame in comparison.
Emmitt seemed calm as always, at least on the surface. Nash had learned that didn’t mean he wasn’t flustered on the inside. If the way Emmitt kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, and his compressed lips were anything to go by, then he was suffering from a touch of nervous tension, too.
Nash jumped and put a hand to his heart when Dr. Gilbert Wilson materialized at his side. “Sorry,” Nash said. “I’m not usually wound up so tightly.”
Dr. Wilson—or Gil, as he’d told Nash to call him now—wore a tense smile. The genial pediatrician had been best friends with Emmitt since they’d simultaneously arrived in Seattle as freshly minted, fully licensed, and board-certified specialists in their respective fields a decade ago.
“You’ve never given me any reason to dislike you, Nash,” Gil said. “I like people until they give me reason not to. I haven’t had the pleasure of working with you, but I have a lot of respect for Angela’s judgment, and she speaks highly of you.”
Nash’s eyes widened, but he remained silent.
“Myles means a lot to me, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”
“I have no intention—”
Gil put up a hand and shook his head to silence Nash. “I don’t want to see him hurt.” He emphasized each word as he bit them out. “This whole thing…” He twirled around a hand. “It moved from being mildly entertaining to deadly serious in record time. Myles is floating on cloud nine. In fact, I’ve never seen him so happy. You keep him happy, and I’ll be your new BFF.” Gil stabbed a finger into Nash’s chest. “Screw him over, and you’ll never work in Seattle again. Are we clear on that?”
Nash’s face heated, and he set his jaw. “Crystal.”
Gil’s eyes narrowed, and Nash remembered too late that “Crystal” was the name of Emmitt’s ex-wife, so probably not the best reply to give in that situation.
“I love him,” Nash added. “I wouldn’t be marrying him otherwise. I’m not going to hurt him.”
Gil snorted. “Right. See that you don’t.” He shook his head and walked away, heading toward where his kids were playing Monopoly around the coffee table with Angela’s crew.
Harley approached with a smirk gracing his lips. “Want me to give my own ‘don’t mess with my bestie’ speech to Myles for you?”
Nash laughed. Leave it to Harley to lighten the mood. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t worry. He kinda intimidates me. Besides, I’m satisfied, now, that he has good intentions.”
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m beginning to think your amnesia is the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Nash’s brows shot up. “That’s an odd thing to say. What in the world happened that I’m better off not knowing?”
“It’s not that. Living through the spectacle surrounding your broken engagement made you bitter. Your reboot allowed you to bypass the drama and go straight to understanding.”
“Huh.” Nash scratched his head. “Yeah, well, it still wasn’t easy. Accepting was a little behind understanding.”
“Weeks, man, it took you only a week or so to be totally over it.”
“I guess. Was I really bitter?”
“Eh, maybe ‘jaded’ is a better word.”
Harley made sense. Nash’s attitude about the breakup with Sam had probably been at the root of his relationship issues with Emmitt. What would happen if he got his memories back now? Would it mess up both him and his relationship with Emmitt again?
“Anyway,” Harley said. “Grady’s on his way up.”
The officiant. Nash nodded. Good. He wanted this formality to be over and done with so he could officially begin his new life as Nash Burlingham.
At the sound of a firm knock on the door, Harley excused himself to answer it. Nash stepped over to where Emmitt stood next to Grampy, who sat on a sofa with Tigger on his lap, next to Percy and Opal. They were all seemingly highly entertained by the antics of the Monopoly game players. Or more accurately, the “Extreme Monopoly” players. The kids had made up their own version of the game involving a twenty-sided die that got rolled along with the regular game dice. The little mischief-makers had come up with a list of twenty “dares” ranging from “burp the alphabet,” to “eat a bite of veggie dunked in spinach dip,” to “give a foot massage to the person on your left.” The specified dare had to be completed alongside the conventional game play.
Emmitt looked stunningly attractive in his simple ensemble. They’d agreed that they’d keep this ceremony informal and go with a more conventional wedding style for the reception celebration next year. They’d told their few guests to wear casual clothing. Nash and Emmitt wore matching casual slim-fit dress shirts in a wine-red color over stiff new jeans. The easygoing smile Emmitt displayed completed the look.
Decorating was minimal as well. A lovely centerpiece of crème and white flowers—roses, Asiatic lilies, and stock stems—in a globe-shaped vase adorned the dining table, the only concession to tradition.
“The officiant’s here,” Nash stated.
Emmitt pulled him forward for a light kiss. “Good. I’m beyond ready to be your husband.”
Harley led Grady into the living room, introduced him, and took charge of getting the formalities underway.
“This is a small, short, and informal ceremony,” Harley announced. “And yet an enormously special moment in the lives of my best friend—a man whose happiness means the world to me—and the man he loves. They will be exchanging rings in a few short minutes. Let’s show our support for them by linking hands and forming a ring around them as they say their vows, pledging their love to one another.”
Nash and Emmitt faced each other and held hands—or fingers in the case of Nash’s left, since he still had a week to go in his cast—and were joined by Grady as their guests formed a circle around them. Emmitt regarded Nash with a concentrated mien, staring into his eyes as if searching for a clue to what was in Nash’s heart. Nash pressed Emmitt’s fingers.
Trust, optimism, and love filled Nash’s spirit, and he hoped Emmitt found what he was looking for.
“I am told you’ve selected Mobius rings for your wedding bands,” Grady began. “A Mobius strip is a symbol of eternity with its one continuous surface. Eternity is time unending, and that time is made up of moments. Henry David Thoreau once said, ‘You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.’ That’s excellent advice for each of us, and a timely reminder for a couple pledging to spend their own eternities with each other.”
Grady turned his head toward Emmitt. “Do you, Myles, take Nash to be your life partner? Do you promise to love, aid, nurture, listen to, and cheer him as you share your journey through life? Do you take him to be your lawfully wedded husband for all eternity?”
Emmitt’s eyes never strayed from their lock with Nash’s as Grady asked his question.
“I do,” Emmitt replied without hesitation.
Grady’s head swiveled to Nash. “And do you, Nash, take Myles to be your life partner? Do you promise to love, aid, nurture, listen to, and cheer him as you share your journey through life? Do you take him to be your lawfully wedded husband for all eternity?”
Nash nodded slightly. “I do.”
The rings were brought out, and Grady continued. “Myles, please repeat after me. I, Myles, take you, Nash, to be my wedded husband…”
Myles eased the platinum Mobius ring onto Nash’s finger and repeated the standard wedding vows as Grady recited each line. Myles’ voice broke as he echoed the words “in sickness and in health.” A tear shone, but managed not to drop, and his fingers tightened around Nash’s as he promised “to love and to cherish.”
When it was Nash’s turn to repeat the vows, his hands shook as he slipped the matching ring onto Emmitt’s finger. Nash’s tears flowed freely, and he had to sniff inelegantly to prevent a matching drip from his nose. At the final words, “and hereto I pledge you my faithfulness,” it took all of Nash’s concentration to hold back from throwing himself into Emmitt’s arms.
“The grooms have taken solemn vows, holding hands, exchanging rings, and pledging their truth to each other. Myles and Nash, by the authority vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you officially married. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”
With the participants grinning through it, it was a clumsy kiss. Emmitt’s hands came up, and he used his thumbs to clear away Nash’s tears.
“I love you,” Emmitt breathed.
“I love you, too,” Nash replied. “Love you, cherish you, for eternity.”
Harley patted Nash on the back as a light round of applause broke through Nash’s awareness. Gil shook his hand, and Angela hugged him. Emmitt ran through a parallel gauntlet before Harley herded the guests toward the dining area and the buffet line set up by The Urban Chef.
Grady, Harley, Gil, Emmitt, and Nash skirted the group to sign and witness the marriage license.
“Best wedding I’ve ever attended,” Gil declared. “Short and sweet. You can’t beat that.”
Harley snorted. “Thank goodness for brides. If everybody thought like you I’d be out of a job.”
Gil chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that. I do have to admit, I got a little teary eyed, so well done all around.”
Myles signed the paper with a flourish, and Harley passed it to Nash. Grasping the pen confidently, he signed “Nash Burlingham” for the first time. That is, not counting all the practice runs he’d made with blue, black, purple, green, thick, and thin pens. An unbiased observer would have been forgiven, yesterday, had Nash been mistaken for a twelve-year-old girl.
* * * *