“You’re right. I’m worrying for nothing. How’s the hospital?”
“It’s good. I met someone.”
“Since yesterday?” he asks.
“Yes. We’re getting married.”
“Congratulations. When and where?” If he thinks it’s crazy or that I am, he knows better than to say anything.
“As soon as possible, in Vegas I suppose. I haven’t really gotten around to ask her what she wants, but a church wedding is out because she’s not Catholic.” I proceed to tell him all about her.
“Oh, Ma isn’t gonna like the Catholic part.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“You’re probably right about that.” She will. Debbie O’Brien has endured some hard shit lately and I know she’ll welcome River with open arms. My aunt Jana will too. They are best friends who married brothers, both of whom were murdered on the same day. The other ladies refer to them as the Widow’s O’Brien. They cling to each other for comfort, but it’s really no more than usual. I’ve long suspected they were more than just friends, even while my father and uncle were still alive. You’d have to see them to believe it.
“Protect Sean,” I tell him. Technically, I’m the underboss as the oldest son of the previous underboss, but I haven’t been able to step into that role as of yet. “As soon as I finish my residency, I’ll be home to take over. I’ve already gotten a job lined up at Saint Elizabeth’s.”
“That’ll be a nice cover.”
“I suppose. I’ll call you with the details. You’ll be my best man, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll talk soon. Love you brother.”
“Love you too.” I hang up the phone and go back to picking up the clothes off of the floor.
“Who was that?” I whirl around at the sound of her voice. It’s amazing that just those three little words, or maybe the fact that I can smell her perfume, but it makes me hard as a rock again. It’s as if I didn’t just come inside of her three or four times less than an hour ago.
“My brother. I told him about you and that we’re getting married.”
“Cillian, right?” she asks, and I nod. “You wanna get married in Vegas? I kinda overheard you. You raised your voice when you were talking about Sean.”
“My cousin.”
“I remember.” It seems crazy that in a few short hours in the middle of the night we learned all about each other.
“You should invite Ocean,” I say, remembering her slightly younger sister.
“I will. That’ll be nice. They can be our witnesses. Maybe they will hit it off.”
“Maybe,” I say tossing the clothes on the back of the couch before crossing the room to her. She has an adorable pillow crease on her face. Reaching out, I smooth the skin there. It’s flush. “Come, let’s go back to bed.” I take her hand and lead her back into the bedroom.
Throughout the next day, we make love, nap, eat, shower, make love, eat. It’s a new addiction, one I don’t want to kick. Just before we fall asleep for the night, I hear her murmur something, but I can’t quite make it out.
“What, baby?”
“Mmm… I love you, Everett.” Her soft voice pierces my eardrums with those three little words. The three little words that can start wars just as well as end them.
“I love you too,” I reply without hesitation.
“Too soon, but I don’t care,” she replies sleepily. I let her fall asleep on my chest, but she isn’t wrong. It is too soon, but I don’t care either.
There are no time requirements when it comes to love.
No rules.
No losers.
We all win when we’re in love and I’ve won the most perfect prize.
FIVE
RIVER
ONE WEEK LATER
I’m trying to put makeup on when there is cop like knock at the door. Getting up, I open it and immediately freak the fuck out.
“You made it!” I yell, pulling Ocean into my arms outside my hotel room door.
“Of course, I did. It’s not every day that my sister marries a total stranger,” she replies dryly. “Now, why couldn’t I tell Mom and Dad?”
“I didn’t want them to try and stop us.” And they would. They are oddly traditional hippies.
“I see. So where do you want me?” she asks, not looking amused.
“Your room is over there. It adjoins our other room.”
“Why do you need three rooms?”
“Everett’s brother, Cillian is here too. They are having a pre-wedding beer in the bar since Everett doesn’t want a bachelor party.”
“It’s just as well. We aren’t old enough to do a damn thing here.”
“I’m old enough to get married.”
“There’s that,” she says. She’s a very dry, emotionless person but I love her all the same.
“Help me get ready?” I ask, excited to spend time with her. I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving and that was with the other families on the commune.
“Of course.” We spend the next thirty minutes getting dressed. I opted for a lacy white cocktail dress. It looks very early nineties, like a should be looking for johns in a Camaro, but I think I look pretty. Cea, who hates to be called Ocean, even teased my hair, and brought me a pair of bright blue high heels. “Something blue and something borrowed. This dress was Mom’s in high school so that’s old. And this is for you,” she says handing me a familiar pink striped bag. Inside is a teeny tiny pair of white panties and a garter belt. She must have been so mortified going in that store just to get these for me.