Chapter Text
When I wake up, the other side of the bed is empty. It’s quiet. Too quiet. The girls must still be asleep.
I reach toward the nightstand and tap my phone screen. 7:51 a.m.
As tempting as it is to stay under the covers, the smell of coffee brewing is even more tempting. I drag myself out of bed and to the bathroom, and then down the hall toward the kitchen.
Nick is standing at the counter, facing away, but as soon as I walk in he sets down his mug and turns around. He opens his arms and I slide into them.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How did you sleep?” he asks, not letting go of me.
“Pretty good. I share a bed with this beautiful man who holds me while I doze off and then keeps me warm all night.”
“Lucky you.” Nick leans down and lets his lips graze the side of my neck.
“Yeah. Lucky me,” I squeak out.
“He sounds like a keeper. You should marry him.” Nick presses his mouth against my skin harder.
“I think I will,” I breathe out. He’s going to . . .
“Good plan.” He applies the tiniest bit more pressure.
Um. Alrighty. Now that’s a little bit . . .
“Babe?”
“Yes, my love?” His lips are still . . . Oh.
“I think you”—fuck—“need to stop.”
Nick pulls back immediately.
“Sorry, Char. I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“It’s okay. And I enjoyed it. A lot. But. Maybe no love bites in the wedding photos, huh?”
Nick laughs and then pulls me in for a kiss. “Deal. Although . . .”
He holds me tighter and speaks directly into my ear, his mouth barely brushing against my skin. “Maybe later I could mark you somewhere . . . hidden from view.”
Yes. That would be. Yes. Please.
I’m about to suggest we forget coffee and breakfast and unpacking and start praying to any deity who will listen that the girls stay asleep a little longer when . . .
“Charles Francis Spring! Do you know what time it is?”
“Um. 8:00?” What is he going on about?
“It is in fact 8:00. You know what that means?”
“Time for coffee?”
“Well, yes,” he chuckles. “But do you know what else it means?”
“No. But I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“Our wedding *kiss* is in *kiss* exactly *kiss* 100 *kiss* hours.”
“Counting down, are you?” I can’t help but giggle at that. He is the sweetest dork in the world. And he’s all mine.
“Maybe.” He kisses me again and I let myself get lost in it.
I circle my arms around his neck and move my fingers into his hair. I could definitely get used to starting every morning like this—new house, new traditions and all—but . . .
“Papa? Dada?”
“Papa! Dada!”
And so it begins . . .
After breakfast we determine the two rooms we should concentrate on first are the kitchen and the girls’ room. Since the kitchen is more Nick’s domain, that leaves me to hunt down boxes of toys, books, and tiny clothes.
Bella and Lily are decidedly not impressed with the moving-in process. Empty boxes and packing paper are fun for a while, sure. But the novelty wears off quickly.
After—who knows how much time has passed?—I look up from where I’m sitting on the floor of the girls’ room to find Nick standing in the doorway. He’s holding Bella and Lily is hanging onto his leg.
“I think we need a break. When was the last time the four of us went to the park?”
“February?” I scrunch up my face. That can’t be right.
“We’re long overdue then. Come on.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me up.
We don’t plan on being gone long, but we pack a small bag anyway. You never know. We wrestle the girls into shoes and jackets and walk out the front door.
Because I know he already Google-mapped every potentially useful destination in relation to our new abode, I simply follow Nick down the sidewalk without question.
“It’s about ten minutes this way.”
He reaches for my hand. He’s holding Lily in his other arm because she insists on being carried and I’m holding onto Bella’s hand because she insists on walking.
The neighborhood is pretty quiet—some of the houses are still under construction and not even occupied yet.
As soon as Lily and Bella spot the swings they let out happy squeals. We get them set up side by side and push them gently.
Nick pulls out his phone to take a few pictures. He’s about to put it back in his pocket when it buzzes with an incoming message.
I watch as he reads the screen and smiles before typing a quick reply.
“That was David. He picked up the rings.”
While we have not yet ruled out getting matching tattoos—turns out he was serious after all—we decided we would each choose a ring for the other.
“And you’re still okay with not seeing what I picked out for you until Wednesday?”
Nick is not a huge fan of surprises and neither am I. How did we come up with this plan again? I mean, we talked a lot about what we both wanted, and agreed on a few basics so they would complement each other. But still.
“I trust your judgment, love.” He moves his hand to the back of my head and pulls me into a chaste kiss that somehow still makes me all fluttery.
I hope he always has this effect on me.
“So David is just going to keep both rings until the ceremony?” I ask.
“He swears he won’t mix them up and hand us the wrong ones.”
The girls eventually tire of the swings and decide slides are the way to go instead. Followed by some random spinning in circles on the grass.
We stay at the park for another half hour and then head back and heat up what’s left of the takeout from last night for a late lunch.
The rest of the weekend is a whirlwind of organizing and arranging furniture and bookcases until they are in the exact right spot.
And then reorganizing and rearranging furniture and bookcases until they are truly in the exact right spot.
I have zero shame or regrets in admitting we rely heavily on our other favorite pair of sisters, Bluey and Bingo, to get as much done as we do.
We are exhausted by Sunday night, but we have most of the house sorted. It helps that neither of us really owns that much stuff. Nick is very minimalist and I basically bounced between my parents’ house, my shitty university apartment, and Tom’s for years and never had a reason to buy a lot.
It’s almost midnight when we stop for the day. We take a quick shower—together, but it’s more practical than sexy—and fall into bed.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Sixty hours, Char,” Nick whispers. “In 60 hours I can officially call you my husband.”
“I can’t wait, baby.” I lean in to kiss him, but I’m too fucking tired to do anything else. It’s clear he feels the same way.
“Can we just cuddle?”
“Absolutely.” I would never say no to a Nick Nelson soon-to-be Nick Nelson-Spring cuddle.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I settle into his arms and we both drift off quickly.
On Monday morning we have plans to meet with Reverend Smith again. Of course we already met with him a few weeks ago and chatted quite a bit about what we want to include in the ceremony.
We decided to go with the standard vows. You know, the whole ‘repeat after me’ thing? One, because we assume we will both be way too nervous to remember anything. And two, because we would much rather make our own sappy love confessions in private.
The actual wedding itself will be attended by only a limited few. Just parents, siblings, and the kids. Tori and David will be our witnesses.
Afterward we are hosting a slightly larger group at our place. Nothing fancy, just a quiet celebration with our family and close friends.
Anyway, this is more of a final check-in to make sure we are on the same page with everything for Wednesday.
Sarah and mom are coming over to watch the girls together while we’re out. It will be the first time the two of them meet, which doesn’t sound right, but is true.
Mom arrives first.
I’m getting the girls changed and dressed when Nick answers the door.
“Jane, thank you so much for coming today.”
“Oh, I’d never pass up a chance to hang out with my grandbabies.”
I peek around the corner and see Nick and mom embracing. She and dad have been so welcoming of Nick and Lily. I was worried about telling them how serious we were at first. They had front-row seats to everything that went down with Tom, and I thought they might . . .
Let’s just say my concerns turned out to be completely unfounded.
As soon as Bella hears mom’s voice, she wriggles away from me. Well, she was mostly ready. I pick up Lily and we follow her.
“Am-ee!” Bella calls out.
“Yes, sweetie.” Nick bends down to scoop her up. “Grammie’s here.”
The doorbell rings again. Nick walks over to answer it, Bella still in his arms.
“Mom.” Nick’s voice has a slight quiver to it when he greets Sarah.
The closer we get to the wedding the weepier my husband-to-be gets.
We introduce mom and Sarah, and then give them a brief tour and show them where to find anything they might need while we’re out.
Bella and Lily are equal parts confused and fascinated that Grammie and Nana are both here to dote on them.
They barely notice when we leave.
Nick drives. We still only have my car, which I guess is our car now. We never replaced Nick’s car after the accident. Between moving in together, and Nick being off work for six weeks, and given that the buildings we work in share a parking lot, it didn’t make much sense.
Even with an added stop at the grocery store—which is a whole different experience when it’s just the two of us—we are on our way back less than two hours later. The girls are probably going to be disappointed they didn’t get more time with Nana and Grammie.
We pull into the driveway just after noon. “Only 48 hours now, babe.” He takes my hand and brings it to his lips.
Sarah heads out first, and as I’m hugging her goodbye at the door I once again think I must have won some sort of mother-in-law lottery.
Mom also pulls me into another hug before she leaves. “See you Wednesday, sweetheart,” she mumbles into my shoulder. I feel a lump in my throat start to form. Mom isn’t usually much for terms of endearment.
She pulls back and puts her hand on my cheek and for a moment I think she might say more, but she just turns and walks to her car.
It rains the rest of Monday and all day Tuesday.
Not a relaxing, sit on the porch and look for rainbows when the sun starts to peek through kind of rain.
More of a mythological, build an ark deluge.
We play games. We read books. We have a Disney movie marathon. We play dress up and princesses and pirates and do puzzles.
We read more books and play more games and have a tea party. We use every blanket and chair in the house to make a giant fort.
We watch so much Bluey I’m starting to develop an Australian accent.
Somewhere around our 900th episode of those lovable Heelers, my phone buzzes.
{12:00 PM} Nick and Lily Nelson: 24 HOURS !!!
I glance at Nick from across the couch. “You’re a dork,” I mouth to him.
“At least it’s supposed to clear out before tomorrow.” Nick says as we make dinner on Tuesday afternoon.
“Actually rain on your wedding day is supposed to be good luck.”
“Really? How so?” He eyes me suspiciously.
“It’s difficult to untie a wet knot.”
“A . . . wet . . . knot?”
“Yeah. You know how people refer to getting married as tying the knot? And a knotted rope or whatever when it’s wet would be very difficult to get the knot out . . . It’s a metaphor.”
The girls fall asleep just after 10:00—yeah, I know, but that’s a Future Us problem—and Nick and I collapse on the couch.
“Fourteen hours now.” He lies down and pulls me against him.
“You are ridiculous,” I tell him, even though I can’t stop smiling.
Fine. I might be counting down now, too.
“Char?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“As much as I love snuggling on this tiny couch with you, we do have a king-size bed in that room over there.”
“We do. And do you know what else we have in that room over there?” I roll so I’m half lying on top of him.
“What’s that?” He brushes his lips against mine.
“Well. I believe when we saw this place for the first time you mentioned something about the size of the shower in the—”
I barely have time to register what is happening before we’re both off the couch and Nick lifts me in his arms and starts walking us toward the bedroom.
We climb into bed just after 11:00 p.m.
Of course some folks tried to convince us we should sleep apart tonight and not see each other until noon tomorrow for the ceremony.
That was not happening.
“Thirteen hours until I make an honest man out of you, Charles.”
“Too late for that, Nicholas.”
I turn toward Nick and prop up on one arm, resting my head in my hand. “Can you believe a year ago we hadn’t even met?”
“I’m so glad we did. This year has been the wildest, most unexpected, and best of my life.” He reaches out to touch my face. “You are so amazing. How are we even together?”
“Because I’m so hot I turned a straight boy?”
“Well. That’s . . .” He pulls me in for a kiss. “. . . not exactly wrong.”
I rest my forehead against his. “You have taken such good care of me this year. My life is way better because I met you. I love you and I’m so lucky I get to spend forever with you.”
“I love taking care of you, Char. I love when we take care of each other. And we always will. For the rest of our lives.”
Nick blinks and a few tears fall. I kiss them away.
“See this is why we couldn’t write our own vows,” he says. “I’d be reduced to a puddle of goo.”
We should probably get to sleep but talking and cuddling and kissing is too much fun. Soon, however, it’s closing in on midnight and getting harder to hold back from yawning.
“Do you think we will regret not doing the big traditional wedding thing?” I ask.
“Nah. Big weddings take too much time to plan. And I didn’t want to wait any longer. I think we picked a great day. And now our anniversary will always be on a holiday break, so there’s that.”
“Maybe we can go back to the coffee shop on New Year’s Day,” I suggest. “Make it an annual family outing.”
“And we should have someone take a picture of the four of us,” he says. “We can re-create it every year.”
“What a story we’re going to have to tell our girls one day.” I press closer to him.
We lay there quietly for a few minutes. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of Nick’s breathing.
I check the time. 12:02 a.m.
“Nick. It’s after midnight.”
No response. He didn’t.
“It’s our wedding day. Only 12 hours to go, love.”
Silence. He did.
“Good night, sweetheart,” I whisper, even though he won’t hear me. “I love you, and I can’t wait to be Mr. Nelson-Spring.”
I lie my head down on his chest and let his heartbeat lull me to sleep.