“I’ve always liked Colt,” John says.
I give him a fist bump.
“Let me and Cheryl plan something,” Alicia says.
“Yes. Please,” Cheryl insists.
“Okay, but you have to include Colt’s mom. How soon? Just family.”
“Give us a couple of weeks,” Alicia says.
“Colt, call Mama,” Vickie says, and my heart almost bursts.
She smiles and shrugs.
“I’m so going to marry you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Whatever. I don’t love you,” Vickie whispers back.
“I don’t love you either. Not even a little bit.”
SIXTY-TWO
Three weeks.That’s how long it takes for our mothers to plan our wedding. We told them we wanted a justice of the peace and the immediate family. I don’t know what they heard, but that’s not what we got. Ethan is letting us use one of his family homes in Sand’s Point. Home is an understatement. It’s a palatial estate that sits on acres of land and overlooks the ocean. It’s the middle of December, in frigid temperatures, and it just snowed this morning, giving the place added beauty.
I’m not sure if our moms tricked us into having a wedding instead of a civil ceremony but I’m happy. Instead of just close family, our moms invited the entire team and about two dozen people from Alabama, even though Mama’s hinting that we have a huge wedding next year there also. I actually love the idea, and since they were inviting everyone, I made sure Myra received an invitation too. Our moms didn’t want a justice of the peace, so Mama flew in Reverend Richards, and Cheryl got their pastor from their church. Both men are waiting at the makeshift altar under the heated tent in the back of the mansion, surrounded by white roses and blanketed in soft lighting.
Now, Myra sees me and limps over. She’s in a frilly, red dress with a wide collar. She even has a flower in her hair.
“Myra, I’ve never seen you look prettier,” I tell her.
She blushes and takes my hands. “You look so handsome. I’m so happy for you, Mr. Colt. So happy.” She looks around and waves over a young woman who is sitting in the last row. She stands, but I can tell she’d rather be anywhere but here. She’s dressed in all black, more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding. “This is my daughter, Jeannie. Jeannie, this is Mr. Colt.” Jeannie offers me her hand.
“Congratulations on your wedding,” she says, looking unimpressed, but she does give me a genuine smile. She’s a younger, prettier version of Myra with clear brown skin and big eyes.
“Thank you, Jeannie. Welcome.” She walks to the back and takes a seat. From the corner of my eye, I see her pull out a book. There are about a dozen NBA players here and she couldn’t care less. Good for her.
I guess Vickie’s friend Tamron has that covered. She’s in the corner between three of my teammates talking and laughing.
“You ready?” Charlie asks. “Mama’s been frettin’ like a mother hen all darn week. She’s cried about five times today.”
It’s supposed to be casual, but Mama insists I wear a dark gray suit and tie. She also orders Charlie to stand next to me at the altar. I know what she’s doing, but I’m too happy to fight with her today. I’m getting married, and nothing can go wrong.
I take my position at the altar as the room fills and everyone takes a seat. Coach Walsh sits in the back. He stares at Jeannie, who has yet to look up from her book. Whatever she’s reading must be engrossing.
Cheryl and Alicia are escorted to their seats by Alan, and Mama by Evan. Tara and Ethan are next as they hold Vincent’s hand. The room goes silent when John escorts Vickie down the aisle and I almost fall over when I see what she’s wearing. It’s the white mink that I sent to her in Mexico. She also has the tiara on top of her curly hair. Maybe it’s the coat or the tiara. Or maybe it’s the healthy glow of her pregnancy, but she’s never been more beautiful. I don’t realize I’m crying until Charlie hands me a handkerchief.
The mink is so long, it almost brushes the floor. The coat is open, revealing a curve hugging white dress with a long slit in the side. The dress also nearly brushes the ground, but I still catch a peek of her stilettos covered in rhinestones. She looks regal, just like my queen should.
“Did you get her that coat?” Charlie whispers in my ear. I nod, unable to take my eyes off her. “See? I told you.”
When she gets to me, Tara takes the coat from her sister, and my knees nearly buckle at her beauty. I grab her hands and the ceremony is a blur. We kept the vows traditional, promising to recite our own at the next wedding. Minutes later, we’re pronounced man and wife and I take her in a kiss.
“Alan’s my uncle now,” I hear Evan shout.
“I don’t love you,” I whisper against her mouth.
“I’ve never loved you less.”
