I can’t believe I finally get to marry Emma. It feels like we’ve done absolutely everything backwards. Pretending to be engaged when we barely knew each other. Getting pregnant. Hauling her into the courthouse. But this? As we stand around Tim and Alice’s backyard, this feels absolutely perfect. A light snow falls as Ty lights tiki torches around the perimeter of the yard. Alice’s brothers brought over the some leftover strands of twinkle lights from the Peterson house and sort of draped them over the apple tree, so everything looks really pretty.
Nicole is inside fixing Emma’s hair and finding her a warm wrap to wear with her dress while I work on getting Amy’s sons to stop digging holes in the yard where Emma will walk up to meet me at the makeshift archway we made from a bunch of old hockey sticks and some zip ties. Ty, smirking, hangs a sprig of mistletoe from the middle of the arch and claps me on the back. “Let’s get this moving. I’m freezing my nuts off out here.”
He jogs inside and shouts for everyone to come out in the back yard, and Emma’s mother and sister bustle out, chirping about how unconventional all of this is and wondering how they will ever look their country club friends in the eye again. My father helps my grandmother into a lawn chair near the archway and walks over to me. “Thatcher,” he says, setting a hand on my shoulder. I don’t flinch or brush him aside, which feels like progress. “I want to thank you for letting me be here to see you married,” he says and bites back a sob. I realize I’m the only Stag brother who will have a parent present at his wedding, and that makes me choke up a bit, too.
All I can do is nod at him, but I’m seized by a strong emotion looking up at the mistletoe and I grab his arm. “Will you stand up here? With me and Ty and Tim?”
His mouth works up and down like he’s searching for words, and he nods, standing behind me, but not too close to the precarious archway. It feels right to have him there, like this new chapter of all of our lives, all these changes, circle back to include him, too. Family looks and feels so different than I ever thought, and today it all feels welcome for the first time I can remember.
Amy and Doug, holding up a set of speakers from inside, start playing some music from Doug’s phone and everyone quiets down. This is what I’ve been waiting for—my chance to seal my commitment to Emma. To our family.
Juniper walks out the back door toward the arch, wearing a flowing black robe and carrying a few sheets of paper. “Where did you get a judge robe?” I ask her, wide-eyed.
Tim and Ty take their place beside me and Tim winks. “It’s my graduation gown from law school,” he says. “Close enough.”
I don’t hear anything else, then, because I look up and Emma is walking toward me, her arm linked with her father’s. Nicole has her phone out, taking a thousand pictures as my Emma glides through the yard. I think about how different I am from when I met her a few years ago. How much I work to be a better person, to be honest with my family, and make myself vulnerable to Emma.
“All rise for the honorable Judge Juniper Jones,” Ty shouts, crushing the mood.
“Knock it off, Tyrion,” Tim says in his sternest dad-voice.
Juniper clears her throat and says, “Well, thank you all for hanging out back here with us in the snow and freezing cold. I’ve never actually performed a wedding yet, so this is exciting for me.” She flashes a huge smile at me as Emma shivers a bit from where she’s facing me. Juniper looks at Ed and says, “I think you can hand her off to Thatcher now, Senator,” and she gives him a wink that makes him laugh. He pats Emma on the hand and steps back with her mom and sister.
I reach for Emma and see she’s carrying a bouquet of poinsettias she must have gotten from in the house somewhere. I love how the red petals play off the red and gold highlights in her hair, the green of her dress. It’s all I can do not to run off and immortalize this moment in my glass studio. But I need to focus, to be here. Present with my family this Christmas Eve, where I’m receiving so much more than I could ever wish for.
Juniper keeps talking, saying, “The bride and groom were pretty clear that they don’t want a drawn-out ceremony. Their engagement lasted long enough. So anyway, really the only required parts are that you each agree to marry one another and then I can do some declaring…but do you want to say anything? Vows off the cuff?”
Emma nods. She’s a writer. I should have expected that she’d have something magnificent to say, but I’m unprepared to hear her start telling me, “Thatcher Stag, you started out as such a cad. But I then saw through the chinks in your inked-up armor, and boy. Do I like what I found in there.” She dabs at her eyes. “When you open your heart up to me, when you tell me all the things that frighten and inspire you, all the things that bring you joy…I want to be with you. I want to be the arms that hug you, the whispering voice of reassurance, the nagging wife who begs you to get your hair cut so I can see your beautiful grey eyes.” She reaches out and strokes my cheek gently. “I know I’m not very good at staying calm or dealing with my fear when I don’t feel in control, especially about my health. But I know that you’re here for me, to keep me safe and to make sure I get all the help I need from the people who know how to give it. I’m so excited to make a life with you, Thatcher, as your friend and your partner and your wife.”
I lean in to kiss her but she tilts her head back. Juniper whispers that I’m not supposed to do that until I’ve at least verbally agreed to marry Emma. “Well,” I say, “It’s really hard to follow that. All I know is that you’re brilliant, Emma. I mean that in every sense of the word. There is a brilliance that shines from you and it inspires me. I told you, you’re my muse. I want to live up to your light so I don’t seem dim beside you. You make me better, stronger, and a more complete person. I was wading around in a sea of bad choices before I met you, and you reached down and pulled me into this lifeboat. You’ll make me the luckiest man around if you let me be your husband, Emma Cheswick. I love you with every cell of my body, and I love even more that you’re so bravely growing this new life for us.” I have to stop then because I’m about to cry and I feel a knot in my throat that chokes me. I let the tears flow, because fuck it. If a man can’t cry at his own wedding, well…fuck it. “I just love you, Emma. And I know I mess up a lot, but as soon as I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I wanted that to get started. Right away. You’re the best gift I ever got, and I’m so excited to get out of the snow and take you home as my wife this Christmas.”
And then I don’t wait for Juniper, but I lean in and kiss my girl. I pull her close against me, letting my lips meld with hers, until we feel like one being. Emma pulls back with a slight gasp and drops her hands to her belly. “Mr. Stag,” she says, beaming, “I just felt Prince Duke kick!”
“My kid has much better timing than me,” I say, dropping a hand to her belly, wanting him to know I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.
Juniper declares us husband and wife and my family erupts into cheers. I lean in again and kiss the hell out of Emma until Ty rips down the mistletoe and starts shaking it in my face. Emma laughs and shakes her shoulders. Her teeth start to chatter and I kiss her once more. “Come on,” I tell her, yanking her toward the house. “Let’s go inside, Mrs. Stag. Alice made cake.”