by Tabatha Kiss
“Thanks, buddy,” Will tells him.
Andy grins up at me and waves a little hand. “Hi, Jovie.”
I laugh. “Hi.”
He turns around and runs back to Sara. She picks him up and for a moment, she makes eye contact with me. I expect a hint of malice or annoyance but for the first time in our lives, I see neither. She half-smiles with acceptance instead. It’s no olive branch but it’s a good start.
Will lays the larger ring in my shaking right hand and I grip it so tightly I feel the band digging into my skin.
“William, repeat after me,” Coach begins. “I, William…”
“I, William.”
“Take you, Jovie, to be my wife.”
“Take you, Jovie…” Will slowly exhales the shock from his eyes. “To be my wife.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”
“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“To love and to cherish until death do us part. This is my solemn vow.”
Will draws my left hand closer and aligns the white gold ring with my fingertip. “To love and to cherish until death do us part.”
He slides the ring onto my finger until it reaches the engagement ring already sitting there.
“This is my solemn vow,” he finishes, still staring into me.
I bite my cheek, refusing to let the tears fall from my eyes but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold them back.
“Now, Jovie…” Coach looks at me. “Repeat after me.”
My lungs jolt as I try to breathe, shaking the air back out through my fire red cheeks.
“I, Jovie,” he says.
“Uhh…” I stutter, instantly forgetting my line.
Will lays his second hand over mine, creating a warm, stable cocoon around my trembling fingers. It sends almost immediate strength through me but just one look into his eyes threatens to bring it all back down.
He smirks and I feel like myself again.
“I, Jovie,” I say.
“Take you, William, to be my husband.”
“Take you, William, to be my husband.”
A bit of relief rushes through Will’s eyes and I smile wider. Each new word feels a little easier, as if everything was destined to lead us here.
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”
My tongue shakes no more. “For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“To love and to cherish until death do us part. This is my solemn vow.”
I take hold of the wedding band and the sunlight shimmers around the rim as I gaze at it. Will straightens his hand and I slide it over his thick, strong knuckles.
“To love and to cherish until death do us part.” I entwine our hands and he squeezes tightly. “This is my solemn vow.”
Coach pauses and leans closer to Will. “Do you want her to say it again just to be sure?”
I raise a brow.
Will shakes his head. “No. I trust her.”
“All right.” Coach feigns a sigh. “Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Kansas, I have no choice but to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride and Lord have mercy on us all.”
There’s an uproar of shouts and applause as the band starts to play, but it all blends together in the back of my head as Will takes a single step forward.
He lays a hand on my cheek, just barely grazing my skin as I tilt my face upward. Our lips touch, mouths closed in a sweet, thoughtful kiss...
But we’re Will and Jovie.
I hop up into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist, locking us together in a firmer, messier kiss.
“Rock and roll!” Natalie shouts amid the whistles and cheers.
I lose my breath quickly and lay my forehead against his to take a rest. Will keeps me held up high and I feel weightless and bold, completely comforted in a moment when I should be terrified.
“Hey, Jovie?”
I open my eyes for him. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
We kiss once more.
“I love you, too, Will.”
He sets me down and we turn around to look out at the clapping crowd. Even more must have gathered during the ceremony, as they now extend far past the sea of folding chairs into the street beyond them.
Will stands behind me with his arms hugging my waist, holding me against him as he laughs in my ear.
So many of them, some family, others friends and acquaintances, all staring at me.
But that’s just what people do when your name is Jovie Ross.
Clover, Kansas.
Home sweet home.
Epilogue
Will
It’s a warm day in Clover, Kansas.
The sun casts a bright glow throughout the town square. Birds are starting to return now that the snow and ice have melted away. Natalie wanders the street with a small storage box under her arm to detach the last few pink and red ribbons that still remain on parking meters and road signs.
Valentine’s Day 2020 is over.
I step out of the corner market with several grocery bags in each hand, extending my foot to hold the door as a man passes by me.
“Hello, William!” Coach Rogers says.
I smile at him. “Hey, Coach.”
He takes the weight of the door to let me slide out of his way. “I must say, you’re looking about a 9.5 today!”
I nod. “I’d say it’s more of a 9.7.”
“Well, keep that smile going!” He continues on into the market. “It’s contagious!”
While I love getting into it with Coach about the morality of his coveted G-HIC system, I can’t say I haven’t seen the effects of it in action recently. In the few shorts days since the Valentine’s Day dance, I’ve seen the widespread smiles lingering on every face. There’s a light and fluffy feeling around every corner. The events of a few individuals really matter to the people as a whole.
Happy life. Happy town.
I step off the curb and pop the trunk to toss the groceries inside.
“Hey, Myers!”
I look at the toy store behind me and wave toward the shiny, bald head poking out the door. “Hey, Mr. Trin.”
“Jovie doing okay?” he asks.
“She’s great. How’s that new smock girl working out?”
He rolls his eyes, barely lowering his voice. “Girl can’t tell the difference between a sauropod and a cerapod. You tell Jovie she’s needed back ASAP.”
“I’ll pass it on.” I laugh.
“I mean it.” He steps one foot back inside. “Throw the bundle of joy in a björn. Pump at the register. I don’t care. I need my assistant manager.”
“It’s been three days, Mr. Trin,” I say. “You’ve got three months to go.”
“That’s a lifetime in this business. Don’t you know anything about product cycles?”
I shrug. “I fix cars.”
He throws up his hands and retreats back inside.
I step back onto the curb and linger near the window to look inside, catching sight of the new employee walking through the aisles. She’s young with a pixie hair cut — not unlike Jovie when she first put on that red smock a decade ago.
The girl stacks a few dolls on the shelf, carelessly leaving them without meticulously straightening them first. Jovie would throw a fit but I won’t tell her. She’s got enough to worry about right now as it is.
I start the quick drive home. A few dog walkers in my neighborhood stop to wave at the familiar vehicle as I pass by and I honk back,
spreading the joy a little further.
It’s not always like this, of course. After all, Valentine’s Day has always been a really horrible time for me and Jovie. Even after the vows were said and rings were exchanged, we still managed to find reasons to make the season of love a period of frustration each year. I’d try and find a way to get ahead of it, as usual, and Jovie would do her best not to let it get to her and, as usual, we’d fail miserably and spend the holiday glaring at each other until the sensual urges overtook us and make-up sex would come to the rescue.
But I think we finally found a way to permanently bury that Valentine’s stigma once and for all.
This year, our baby girl was born on February 14th.
It wasn’t planned that way. She wasn’t due until early March but life always finds a way to drop a little coincidence on you now and then. Jovie probably would have preferred it if life picked a more convenient moment than right in the middle of the annual dance to break her water in front of the whole town. I’ve already had Tucker spread the word that the details of that janitorial disaster are never to be mentioned by anyone ever again.
I park in my spot in the driveway next to a black truck that wasn’t there when I left. As I step into the house, I move with soft, careful steps, making sure I don’t make too much noise.
I tiptoe into the hall, headed for the kitchen, when I see my father-in-law quietly stepping out of the baby’s room.
“Hey, Will,” he says, sliding the door closed behind him.
“Hank.” I nod. “Didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He points over his shoulder. “The folks at the plant put together a gift basket for you guys. Just swung by to drop it off before heading in.”
I continue into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. “Great. Thanks.”
He lingers in the doorway. “How you doing?”
“Uh…” I exhale at the mess of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. “Tired.”
“Oh, get used to that.” He chuckles. “That doesn’t go away.”
“Any advice?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he smirks, “don’t take advice from me and you should be all right.”
I laugh. “Sounds good.”
He turns to leave. “Anyway, I’m gonna take off.”
“Dinner this week?” I call after him. “We’re having a family thing on Saturday; give everybody a chance to gush over the baby. You should join us.”
“Sure.” He nods. “Just let me know a time.”
“Will do.”
“Bye.”
“Hey, Hank…” He turns back to me again. “So, what do you think?”
He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out again. “She’s gorgeous,” he says.
I smile. “Yeah, she is.”
“Take care of her.”
“I will.”
“Both of ‘em.”
I nod as he walks off, letting the thought sink in for several moments as the front door opens and closes behind him.
There hasn’t been a second since Jovie went into labor when I haven’t felt a blinding terror rattling my insides. Luckily, it hasn’t killed me yet. Hopefully, it never will.
Strangely, I love every moment of it.
I rush to stock the perishables away and abandon the rest to head into the baby’s room. As I enter the hallway, my eyes glide to the left wall out of habit. Postcards hang on a photo line, starting with one showing off an all-too-familiar road sign.
Clover, Kansas.
The Forgotten Paradise.
My eyes flick from one to the next. From Clover to St. Louis. To Chicago. To Cleveland and Nashville. Atlanta and Orlando. San Diego. Seattle. Denver. Salt Lake City.
Over two dozen cities representing memories I can never touch but I don’t mean that in self-pity or anger. Far from it, in fact. Rediscovering Jovie as she slowly revealed bits of her journey to me over the last several years has made me love her even more, a fête I once thought impossible.
The details of that journey…
Well, that’s no one’s business but ours.
I reach the final postcard with a smile on my face.
Clover, Kansas.
Jovie looks up from the rocking chair as I peek into the room. Her arms are full with the tiniest human being I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart skips as she struggles to keep the swaddled lump balanced in her inexperienced hands. She manages it fine in the end. Baby steps. Literally.
“Did you see Dad?” she asks, exhaling the panic from her lungs.
“Yeah,” I say, keeping two protective eyes on my daughter. “Did he wake her?”
“No.” She scoffs. “You weren’t gone two minutes before she started screaming again. You may have missed the first tantrum.”
“I’m sure she’ll throw another one at some point.”
“Not hers,” she jokes. “Mine.”
I kneel beside the rocking chair. “I don’t think the baby calendar has a sticker for Mommy’s first tantrum.”
“Well, it should.”
“She seems to have calmed down, though.”
“For now.”
“What’d he bring?” I ask, glancing at the gift basket in the corner.
“He said, and I quote, ‘baby junk.’” She chuckles. “So, I can only assume a few onesies, maybe some pacifiers and stuff.”
“Good.” I nod. “Can never have too many of those.”
She smiles at me. “Have I mentioned how grateful I am that you’ve kinda sorta already done this before?”
“Only every day since the strip turned pink.” I lean in to kiss her forehead. “But no amount of babysitting Andy prepared me for the breast pump.”
“Prepared you?”
I smirk. “Sounds like Mommy’s second tantrum is well on its way.”
She glares at me. “Ha, ha, ha.”
“There’s that beautiful laugh again.”
“Don’t think that I won’t kick your ass just because I have a six-pound baby in my arms.”
“Oh, I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Damn right.”
I kiss her cheek as I stand up. “Want me to take over for a while?”
“Yes, please.” She shifts forward, slowly extending her arms. “I am so hungry. Did you get my Pop Tarts?”
“In the bag on the counter.”
“Thank you.”
I take the baby from her nervous hands, keeping mine as steady as possible as I lower into the rocking chair.
Jovie waits until I’m settled in before leaning down to kiss me. “You good?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“You sure?”
My eyes lock on my daughter’s tiny face. “Positive.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
I hear her leave but I don’t take my attention away from the bundle in my arms.
“We’ll be here,” I murmur.
I slide my thumb down her arm to rest next to one of her hands as it sticks out of her green, dinosaur-covered blanket. How is it even possible to be this small? Never in my life have I felt so huge and so fragile at the same time. So strong yet so weak.
I thought I’d already fallen in love for the last time.
Her eyes open slightly, revealing the brownish hue of her irises. She catches sight of me with a blank stare that’s just so utterly Jovie it’s mind-boggling. Just a few days old and she’s already the spitting image of her mother, inside and out.
“Hey, Joanne,” I whisper.
She blinks once. Her gaze shifts from tired annoyance as she recognizes me or, at least, I think she does. It’s impossible to know anything about her yet. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I don’t know what she’ll look like a month from now or six months from now or even six years.
Who is this person in my arms and who will she become if I look away for too long? What will she do with her life? Where will she go?
I have no idea.
But I c
an’t wait to find out.
“Where is she?”
I barely get the front door open before my mother and sister barge inside. “In the nursery with Jovie,” I say after them as they rush into the hallway.
My father follows behind them, silently shaking his head, along with my brother-in-law, Charlie. They both give me that new father pat on the shoulder as they pass, welcoming me to the fold.
“Hey, Uncle Will,” Andy says, looking up from the end of the line.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, messing up his hair, as I always do.
He reaches up and fixes it himself as he walks in. Seven years old and already too cool for bad hair.
“Oh, she’s so precious!”
“Look at that face!”
“And the little hands!”
I close the door with a sigh but something blocks it before it latches.
“Whoa, hey!” Tucker says, slipping in. “Favorite uncle, coming through!”
I roll my eyes. “Hey, Tuck.”
We follow the voices through my house to the nursery. Mom and Sara stand on either side of the bassinet with Jovie. The men stand to the side with Hank, letting the ladies get the high-pitched squeals out of their system.
Jovie slides back, looking about as nervous as any new mom would as a swarm invades her child’s space. I move to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I kiss her head and she relaxes.
Tucker charges over and stares at the baby. “Hey, check it out,” he says. “She has my eyes.”
I tap his arm. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Well, they ain’t yours.”
“They’re obviously Jovie’s.”
“Right.” He nods. “And Jovie and I have the same eyes. Therefore, the kid has my eyes.”
I glare at him. “Get away from my daughter.”
He holds up his hands and takes a step back. “Fine. Whatever. Live in denial.”
My mother instantly takes his spot. “Can I hold her?”
I step forward, feeling that protective chain tug at me. “Yeah, that’s fine—”
“I call dibs after Mom!” Sara says in my other ear.
“Well…” My father says. “Shouldn’t the grandparents go first?”
Hank leans back, looking smug. “I already held her.”
“Then, I definitely get to go next.”
