“I love you, too, baby. Don’t you worry about a thing. We’re gonna be happy forever and ever. You’ll see. We’re gonna be a family—ahappyfamily. It’s gonna be better than your wildest dreams. I promise.”
He’s calm now. His breathing is regular. He’s stopped shaking.
“Okay?” I ask.
He nods into the crook of my neck. “Okay.”
I kiss his cheek and continue stroking his back. “I love you, honey. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. If you fuck up, so what? I’ll be patient. And when I’m insane, you’ll be patient with me. And if you don’t know what to do, then I’ll teach you. No big whoop. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I kiss his cheek again. “I’m gonna love you and take care of you forever, baby. You’ll see. You won’t need to overcome a goddamned thing. Those days are over, baby. I got you. I promise.”
Forty-One
Josh
“Hey, Uncle William, will you tie Henn’s bowtie?” I ask. “I’d do it, but I’m so nervous my fingers won’t function.”
Uncle William laughs. “Sure thing. Come here, Peter.”
“If this bowtie were a motherboard,” Henn says, “I swear it’d be my bitch.”
“It’s hard to tie a bowtie,” Uncle William reassures Henn. “Much harder than it looks.”
“See, Reed?” Henn says. “It’s not me that’s the problem—it’s the bowtie.”
Reed laughs. “Keep telling yourself that, man.”
“All the chairs are filled,” Jonas murmurs quietly. He’s peeking out a crack in the bungalow door toward the beach. “Everyone looks really excited.”
“Gah. Don’t tell me that,” I say. “I’m nervous enough already.”
“What do you have to be nervous about, Faraday?” Reed asks. “You’re marrying the greatest girl, ever.”
“Which is exactly why I’m nervous. I don’t wanna fuck this up for her. Hey, Jonas,” I call to him at the door. “Were you nervous right before you went out to marry Sarah?”
Jonas shuts the door. “Oh, yeah, I was shitting.” He glides toward the group, absently twirling his wedding ring around his finger. “I wasn’t nervous about getting married—I was just freaking out I was gonna fuck up my vows.”
“Exactly,” I say. “What if I spontaneously start spewing gibberish up there? Or pass out? Or, worst-case scenario, what if I spontaneously shart in front of everyone?”
Everyone bursts out laughing, except Uncle William.
“What’ssharting?” Uncle William asks.
“When you think you’re gonna fart, but you unexpectedly shit instead,” Henn explains.
Uncle William laughs and shakes his head. “Joshua.”
“Well, let’s look at this logically,” Reed says. “When was the last time you sharted?”
“Hmm,” I say. “Maybe when I was ten?”
“Okay, then, realistically, the odds are extremely low it will happen within the next thirty minutes for the first time in twenty years,” Reed says.
“God willing,” I say.
“Unless, of course, it’s been so long, you’re now statisticallyoverdue,” Henn says.
