Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3)

by Virginia Gray

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  Alone at last and a sudden mess, I repeated my vows for the hundredth time. Though I looked fairly calm in the mirror, my insides were twisted in knots.

  My mother entered the room, floating towards me as if entranced. She reached out and touched my cheek, tears welling in her eyes. “Susie, you look so…” She sniffed audibly. Mona appeared out of thin air, pressed a tissue in her hand, and magically disappeared again. “I just wish your daddy could see you.”

  “Stop, Mom, I can’t cry.”

  “But you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

  My lips wavered, and I wanted to sob. She’d been married in a courthouse on a random weekday afternoon, only days after my father found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t gotten the dress and the cake and the flowers and the church. She’d gotten blame and accusations, and I don’t ever want to know what else. And in the back of my mind, I’m not sure I hadn’t signed up for this whole epic wedding business for her sake; to give her a sliver of a day that should have been hers.

  “I’ll make you proud,” I whispered.

  With trembling lips, she dabbed at her tears and nodded. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

  Mona said something kind to her and then appeared behind me in the mirror, a warm and steadying smile on her face. “Ya ready?”

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the one thing in the world that calmed me: Pete’s face. I would never be alone again. I would belong to him forever, and he to me. I nodded and smiled. “I absolutely am.”

  19

  Peace, Love, and Spider Monkeys

  Light shone boldly through the stained glass windows, a kaleidoscope of colors marking the ceiling and opposite wall. Behind the buzzing swarm of blue dresses in the vestibule, Joe Pat paced nervously. His eyes lit when he saw me, and he rushed to the stairwell up which I was ever-so-slowly climbing.

  “Susan, you’re prettier than…well, you’re just downright beautiful. That’s what you are.”

  “You look very dashing yourself, Joe Pat,” I said, straightening his fancy tie. He placed his hand over mine, and I realized there were tears in his eyes. “What on earth is wrong?” I whispered.

  “I love ya about like a daughter, and I know your daddy would’ve been a proud man today. I just want to do right by him.”

  I inhaled as deeply as I could, desperately plugging holes in the dam poised to break. “You are.”

  Staring at her watch, Dottie entered the holding cell. She pressed groomsmen and bridesmaids together and then got everyone lined up in their designated order. Joe Pat gently pulled me to the corner, rescuing me from the sudden flurry.

  When the death dirge—I mean, Cannon in D—surged, so did my adrenaline. The doors were opened, and Dottie began sending couples down the runway, one pair at a time. As my protective shield diminished, my heart rate sped up. When only Mona and two munchkins lay between me and my future, my blood suddenly drained southward, and I felt lightheaded. Could I be the kind of wife Mrs. Hewitt had described just an hour before? Would I be willing to sacrifice the things I wanted for my marriage? Pete and I were two very seriously bull-headed people. What if we couldn’t find ways to compromise? Joe Pat tightened his grip on my arm.

  A confidently smiling Mona turned and met my eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Your happily ever after’s waitin’ by the last pew.” She then stepped into the sanctuary. I focused on her form; her straight back and prim stride were as proper as any woman’s I had ever known. I sighed. She’d been a bridesmaid more times than I could count, and finally a bride. She would sacrifice anything for her marriage; this I knew. I suddenly wasn’t so sure I could live up to those standards.

  Before Mona reached the altar steps, the ring bearer tore off down the aisle at full sprint, his older sister loudly hissing his name. She turned to me, dramatically rolled her eyes—guess whose cousin she was?—and proceeded to slowly…very slowly…very, exceedingly slowly walk down the aisle, spreading rose petals with such abandon that they pelted anyone unfortunate enough to be within range. Pete’s poor Great Aunt Irma, frail on a good day, was literally showered.

  Before the little spider monkey could scale the stage, Anita intercepted him and whispered something, most likely threatening, in his ear. Highly disgruntled, he turned and stomped back to his sister. She gave him a smug, self-righteous scowl, and then threw an entire fistful of petals in his face.

  Nearly choking on my spit, I was so very grateful for the diversion.

  “Ya ready?” Joe Pat asked, chuckling.

  “Joe—”

  His expression became serious. “Pete’s a good man, Susan, and he’d do anything for you. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

  We stepped onto the runway. The bridesmaid’s song continued…and continued. A full minute more elapsed. Mona whipped her head around and cleared her throat loudly, but the organist seemed oblivious.

  My eyes cut to Joe Pat’s. “What the hell?” Of course, that was the exact moment she decided to end the song. A woman in the cheap seats gasped, and I was lanced with looks of the not exactly awe-inspired variety.

  Joe Pat shifted his feet. “Susan, ya ought to not curse in church. It’s bad luck or somethin’.”

  The organist suddenly pounded out The Wedding March, the music reverberating in great spasms throughout the sanctuary. Everyone stood and turned to me; so many smiling faces, some dabbing their eyes, though why I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I was exactly beloved in the community. And then it struck me cold: I was marrying this entire community. I’d signed up for Pete, not for this! My feet froze in place.

  Joe Pat placed his hand on mine. “Go ahead. It’s gonna be alright.”

  My eyes fixed on him, but before I could protest, or simply curse again, I was shoved from behind. “Go!” Dottie barked.

  Surely white with a terror rivaling that of Jimbo’s last year, I took my first steps. Joe Pat counted under his breath, keeping us in time. On unsteady legs, I slowly made my way to the altar, wishing with all my might that I had listened to those crazy women and worn a full veil to hide behind.

  When we broke past the final pew, the perfect, radiant face of my future husband appeared, and my heart swelled to near bursting. His expression was so filled with love and awe that I was fully overwhelmed. I fixed that look in my mind; to stow it away in my treasure box; to keep it forever.

  I love you, he mouthed.

  I love you, too, I mouthed back, offering him a trembling smile.

  Because Joe Pat was of no relation, he had no authority to give me away, so he kissed my cheek, shook Pete’s hand, and quickly took a seat beside Mom, nodding in manly fashion to Gary, who had driven four hours just to sit beside her.

  The moment our fingers touched, a balm as pure and soothing as distilled morphine filled my veins. We stood transfixed, neither seeming able, nor, more aptly, willing to move. It was as though the entire world fell away, leaving only the two of us.

  “Susie!” Count on my mother to break any spell.

  Pete shook his head, clearly as dazed as I, and we took our place in front of the minister. He clasped my hand tightly, and I noticed it was equally cold and clammy. I squeezed back. We were two icy beings terrified and filled with love.

  I would like to say I remember every single detail of the ceremony and that I followed the procedures to the letter and digested every word the minister spoke, but in all honesty, the only things I retained with crystal clarity were Pete’s vows:

  “Susan Elizabeth Wade, I’ll love you ’til my last breath. I’ll honor you with my body, my mind, and my soul. I vow to cherish every day we have together, knowing each is a precious gift. I’ll never forsake you, and I’ll be faithful to you always. These things I swear to you before our families, our friends, and God Almighty.”

  He then lifted my hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his—not for one moment. He was an actual angel, golden and glowing, and I was eminently mesmerized.


  “Rings?” the minister asked.

  Jimbo and Mona stepped forward. My hand shook as Pete slid the stunning ring on my finger. I noticed his steadiness was failing him as well. I missed twice before hitting home with his simple gold band, and I knew I would suffer jokes about it for years to come. Years. A lifetime. My God, this was absolutely happening, and it was real and forever. He looked at his finger and then at me, his eyes glossing as he smiled. I smiled back, somewhat dizzy.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Pete, you may kiss your bride.” Holy crap! We just got married!

  Cupping my face in his hands, he murmured, “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.” His lips touched mine softly, and then he kissed me very deeply.

  When our eyes met again, he said, “I love you, Susan Walsh. I love you with all of me.”

  The dam broke right then, and I threw my arms around his neck. “Everything I am is yours,” I whispered. Pete turned his back to the crowd and wiped his eyes. Then he wiped mine.

  The minister gave us a moment to collect ourselves.

  “Hey you,” I snuffled. “We’re married.”

  He inhaled deeply, his smile a peaceful river. But then his eyes sparked, and an impish grin hijacked those lips. “Yeah, ’til ya murder me.”

  I gaped at him and then laughed. “Sooner than later, pal.”

  We nodded, and the minister cleared his throat. In a resounding voice, he said, “It’s my great pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Walsh.”

  To standing applause, Pete raised our arms triumphantly like we’d just won Wimbledon’s mixed doubles championship. The organist stood on the pedals, and we raced down the aisle, smiling stupidly.

  20

  Pink is the New Black

  After a ridiculous number of pictures, we entered the fellowship hall and were immediately engulfed in a turbulent sea of hugs and kisses. Throwing elbows, Dottie dragged us through the crowd and placed us next to my mother and the rest of the well-formed receiving line. Order sprang from chaos, and the great crowd became a parade of colorful and heavily perfumed well-wishers.

  An incalculable number of congratulations later, a strange surge of energy rippled through the room. A woman, the rim of her impressive hat covering much of her face, made her way down the greeting line, cordially shaking hands and speaking to each of the wedding party like some kind of celebrity. My two questions: who the hell is this person, and why is she crashing my wedding?

  Dottie wormed her way in between Mona and my mother, as if she were an immediate relative, and took the woman’s hand, talking to her for so long, the line began backing up. Eventually, the stranger physically tore herself away, so she could speak to Mom. She then stood in front of me, smiling like a cat who’d just swallowed a ginormous canary. I eyed her suspiciously. Her sapphire eyes and flawless skin literally glowed, and her high cheekbones and sensual lips were nothing short of supermodel quality. She was breathtaking to say the very least—well, except for the snotty smirk.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met. You are..?”

  “Susan, you’re an idiot,” she suddenly said in the sharp New York-accented voice that had mercilessly assaulted my ears for two straight years. The only difference between then and now was it wasn’t spewing highly colorful expletives.

  “Lexi!” I squealed, throwing my arms around her neck, knocking that weird-assed hat askew. “I can’t believe it! Look at you!” I held her at arm’s length, simply marveling. Then, scanning her from head to toe, it hit me. “Good God, what are you wearing?”

  She quirked her lips and shrugged. “Had to join society sometime.”

  “But, but pink?” I sputtered.

  Like a shaken chandelier, her laugh was light and tinkling—a sound I’d never heard her make. In fact, I don’t recall ever hearing her laugh. “Pink is the new black, darling.”

  I reached out and touched a flaxen wave. “And your hair!”

  “I go au naturel these days.”

  “English professor? Never saw that coming.” She laughed ethereally once more.

  Suddenly, Dottie rushed her. “Miss Fontaine, I know this isn’t the right place and all, but could you sign some of our books? I hope you don’t mind, but soon as I got word that you were at the weddin’ I made some calls. We’re all your biggest fans!”

  I raised my eyebrows and mouthed, Miss Fontaine?

  Lexi crinkled her nose, and then whispered, “Just a sideline. Professors aren’t paid well, and DC is an expensive place to live.” She winked and then turned to answer Dottie. “I’d be delighted.”

  Dottie took that as carte blanche and commandeered her immediately. After rapidly introducing her to the groom, to the tune of: “Miss Fontaine, this is Pete. Pete, Miss Fontaine”, she dragged Lexi to a table in the far corner of the room, set punch and an overflowing plate of mints in front of her, and proceeded to plop down beside her, chatting away as though they were old friends. Soon, a procession of floral dresses toting cardboard boxes marched to the table, forming another type of reception line.

  Mona narrowed her eyes at the spectacle and yelled out in a ringing voice. “Okay, y’all, it’s time to cut the cake!” She grabbed our arms and led us to a round table on which sat an elegantly iced cake, embellished with edible pearls and tiny rose blossoms. “Susan, you and Pete stand here, one on either side.”

  She placed a long, silver knife in my hand, and I offered Pete a mock-threatening look.

  He burst out laughing. “So soon?”

  “Yup.”

  Bitty, the wedding photographer, began clicking away as Mona directed us from one position to the next. This performance was a show of sorts for the portion of the community not invited to the huge evening reception. In fact, I already sensed the crowd thinning.

  “Okay, y’all, now feed each other.”

  I glanced at Pete, ready to roll my eyes, but his expression caught me completely off-guard. He was either utterly enjoying the insanity or oblivious to it. Either way, his eyes literally glowed as they met mine, and his smile belonged solely to me.

  When I lifted cake to his lips, he captured my fingertip between his teeth and slowly stroked it with his tongue. A bolt of electricity shot through me. Then, without breaking eye contact, he touched a bite to my lips several teasing times before finally feeding me. Though it was the first actual sustenance I’d had since my breakfast of beer and saltines, I can promise my moan of ecstasy had nothing to do with food.

  “I believe you’ve got some icing on your lip,” he murmured. “Here, let me help you with that.” Bending down, he gave me a long, lingering kiss, and we were alone again.

  Mona’s intruding voice came from somewhere in the distance. “Um, are y’all about ready to throw the bouquet?”

  “What?” I asked, jerked from paradise.

  A lazy smile unfurled across Pete’s lips. “Mona’d like to know if we’re ready to go, or if we want to stay here and further embarrass ourselves.” He then whispered in my ear, “You couldn’t look more beautiful if ya tried, but all I can think about is gettin’ you out of that dress.”

  “Dude, I’m with you on so many levels,” I replied, breathing shallowly.

  I crooked my finger, and Mona rushed over. “Could you slip Lex—I mean, Miss Fontaine an invitation to tonight’s hoedown?”

  Mona’s eyes widened like saucers. “Sure. Gosh, I still can’t believe you know her.”

  Suddenly, my feet left earth, and I was in Pete’s arms. “Excuse me, ladies and gentleman,” he announced. “My wife and I will be exiting now.”

  “Ahem,” a deep voice sounded from behind us. “Pardon my intrusion, but there are some papers needin’ to be signed. I’m afraid you won’t be officially married until they are.”

  Pete and I exchanged questioning looks.

  “You’ll need two witnesses as well,” Mr. Dupree added.

  Mona immediately volunteered. “Jimbo and I will do it.”

  “What papers are we talking about?�
��

  “Your marriage license, Miss Wade,” Mr. Dupree said, his eyes twinkling. It struck me that this would be the last time anyone could ever legally call me that.

  Pete turned and followed them, only setting me down long enough for us to scrawl our names. Mona and Jimbo did the same, as did the minister.

  Mr. Dupree then rolled up the documents, placed them in his breast pocket, and said, “I’ll file these at the courthouse for you.”

  “Thanks so much, John,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.

  He actually blushed. “It will always be my pleasure, Miss, ahem, Mrs. Walsh.”

  Our business complete, Pete whisked me up in his arms again and carried me through the parting crowd.

  Several older ladies tsked in dismay, but the overall reaction was a mesh of male chuckles and feminine sighs. Pete hurried us through the hailstorm of rice and ribbon, slowing only long enough for me to toss my bouquet.

  A wiry man, looking vaguely familiar, opened the door of an older model gray limousine. He gave me a leering smile, and my jaw dropped. Pete loaded me into the back like a torpedo, and after hopping in behind me, settled me onto his lap.

  “Holy crap! Did you see who caught the bouquet?”

  “If wives’ tales are true, that’ll set a new record,” he laughed, pressing his lips to mine and kissing me ardently. I pulled him on top of me, and our tongues tangled in a sensual dance.

  The driver’s door shut with a thud. “Congratulations, y’all!”

  Pete rose up on his arms, never taking his eyes off mine. “Thanks, Lytle. You know where you’re goin’?”

  “I’m a chauffeur, ain’t I?”

  “A little privacy then, if ya please.” A smoky window I didn’t recall seeing last night noisily rose.

  “I want you right now,” I said, panting.

  Pete whispered against my lips, “You are my bride, and I will not consummate our perfect marriage on this car seat.”