by Misty Simon
Why was Mr. Hanks dressed in a suit and standing at an arch down between two trees? He looked official, for some reason, if that made sense.
I whirled around, looking for Ben, and instead came face to face with Mr. Winnet, smiling now that he had recovered from his fright at Heather’s. And there were several of the old biddies, all dressed up like this was Sunday morning.
Bella was smiling at me like a proud mother. I admit I was totally baffled.
And then my father was at my side, hooking his arm through mine and leading me down the stone pathway Ben had installed a few months ago.
“You want to tell me what this is all about?” I mumbled out of the side of my mouth.
“No, I don’t think I do. I’ll let Ben explain.”
Yeah, Ben had some serious explaining to do.
Somehow he had managed to get to the back of the yard without my noticing and was standing to the right of Mr. Hanks, beaming at me for all he was worth. His right hand was holding something behind his back. But I didn’t have time to think about what it was because Bella shoved one of the sprays of flowers into my hands.
Now let me just take a moment here to say I wasn’t stupid, but I was way bewildered, which would explain why I didn’t clue into what was going on until we got down to Ben and my father said, “I give away this woman with my blessing.”
“Hold up!” Yeah, that was me panicking.
“Ivy, don’t fight it. You already agreed to marry me. I’m just moving things along before you change your mind or drive me crazy with the details.”
I sputtered. I stammered. I outright stuttered.
And then he brought out what he had hidden behind his back.
A shotgun, ladies and gentlemen. The man I had just said I would spend my life with had a shotgun at our impromptu wedding, in case I decided not to go through with things right here and right now.
Really, what else had I expected?
“Where did you get that?” Inane, but it was the only thing I could think of.
“Uncle Harlow loaned it to me last night.”
I scanned the crowd for that cheeky monkey, and there he was, looking as dapper as ever, with Ben’s parents at his side.
As with everything else in this new life I had made for myself, I trusted that I knew what I was doing. And in the fact that Ben was never going to let me go. We went through with the ceremony, with the shotgun laid at Ben’s feet. I said my parts, he said his, but when he kissed me I promised a hell of a lot of retribution over the next sixty years.
And that was how I became Mrs. Ivy Fallon.
Epilogue
Seven months later…
My entourage and I came home to beautiful flowers in the front yard, with the trees blossoming, the sun shining. It was a gorgeous day in Martha’s Point, and it looked like nearly everyone and their mother was out enjoying said day.
I waved to people on the street as we drove by. We went slowly because every two blocks or so someone else wanted us to pull over so they could get a look at what I had done less than two days ago.
Yes, we were coming home from the hospital to get settled back into our house after my childbirth ordeal. No one, and I mean no one, ever described the way it hurt totally, but then again they couldn’t tell me how much I would absolutely love my husband and my children after it was all done.
Yes, you read that right, children. Because when have I ever done anything by a half measure? We had twins, two girls who already looked like Ben. How was it that I did all the work and he got all the glory? He’d been crowing for months, ever since we found out we were having twins, telling everyone who would listen about how strong his sperm was for two of those suckers to make it to the egg. I rolled my eyes so much during those months I think I hurt my brain.
But now the babies were here, and the nursery was all decked out and ready for them.
The old biddies had thrown me a shower to rival any other shower I had ever seen in my life. And then they threw another one two months later when Bella was eight months pregnant.
Bella and Jared had gotten their dog, and then she promptly found out she was pregnant. Still makes me giggle every time I think of it.
So she was due in eight weeks, and cursed me every chance she got about all the information I had given her on things and how she thought she would rather have been blissfully ignorant. Ha-ha-ha!
We pulled into the driveway, and there was a big sign draped across the front of the house welcoming Mommy, Daddy, Elizabeth, and Veronica home. No plant names for my kids.
The Bouquet, aka my sisters, met me at the door and immediately started passing around my children. It was good to be home and surrounded by family.
“Good job, babe,” Ben whispered in my ear. It sent shivers up my spine to this very day, so I turned and attacked his mouth.
“You are so mine in six weeks.”
He had the gall to laugh. “I already arranged a babysitting date with your Dad and Martha on that particular night.”
I knew there was a reason I loved this man.
And then there were Dad and Martha. She was the happiest I had ever seen her, and my dad might have lost some of his tan, but he was more fit than ever.
Turned out that while we were running around after Jackie, Stan and Martha were setting into motion plans that had been in Martha’s mind for a whole lot of years. All that sneaking around and absenteeism? Dance lessons, if you can believe it. And now they were opening a studio right down the street from The Masked Shoppe. I carried the costumes and shoes they would need. I heard a rumor they were thinking of calling it Stan’s Salsa and Samba Studio. Heaven help us all.
Oh, and Charlie and Debbie got married too, just in case you were wondering. No babies for them yet, but they had a ton of time. Maybe I’d get them a dog for Christmas this year.
And we haven’t had a murder in eight months. But even if we did, I’d take one look at my precious children’s faces and know I couldn’t do it anymore. Ben still took on cases, but he had started up a new column at the paper about being a pregnant husband, and next week’s installment was about bringing home baby. He was very happy, and the police were, too.
So all was well that ended well. What started out as a way to get away became a way of life much more suited for me.
And now I’m off to new adventures involving dirty diapers and figuring out how to effectively nurse two squalling infants who are currently sleeping like angels. No more dead bodies for me. Unless Ben still can’t find the laundry basket.
Then all bets are off.
A word about the author…
Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books.
She lives with her husband, daughter, and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania, where she is hard at work on her next novel or three.
She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at [email protected]
www.mistysimon.com
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
