Buttercup, sensing she's the center of attention, screams proudly through a mouthful of antique lace.
"Buttercup," I use my stern voice."Drop it."
She tilts her head, considering, then very deliberately swallows.
"No!"Karina wails.
"Is okay!"Her mother throws up her hands."Is just thing.We make new tradition.American tradition.With no goats!"
"But Nonna's pillow?—"
"Nonna also once used her wedding dress to strain tomatoes during the war.She understand."She pats Karina's cheek."You marry good man.Is what matters.Not pillow eaten by Satan's lamb."
"Hey," Sage tries to explain."Buttercup's not Satan's lamb.She's just...enthusiastically omnivorous."
"I'll get you a new pillow," I tell Karina."Rush delivery.Whatever you need."
"It won't be the same," she sniffles.
"No," her mother agrees."Will be better.Will have story.'Remember when goat ate Nonna's pillow?'Good story.Funny story.Better than boring pillow no one remembers."
Karina laughs wetly.“Callum’s going to think I'm insane."
"Callum’s marrying into a family where goats eat heirlooms," I say."He knows what he signed up for."
"Speaking of Cal,” Sage checks her watch."Ceremony starts in ninety minutes.Everyone needs to finish getting ready.Karina, back to hair and makeup.Mrs.Peters, the photographers want family photos in twenty minutes.Luke, you should be with the groomsmen.And Buttercup?—"
"Goes in goat jail," I finish.
"We don't have a goat jail," Sage points out.
"We have a bathroom with a very secure lock."
"You can't lock her in the bathroom!"
"Watch me."
What follows is a ten-minute wrestling match between man and goat, with Sage alternating between helping and hindering while trying not to wrinkle her dress.
We finally get Buttercup secured in the accessible bathroom with enough hay and water to keep her occupied and fewer heirlooms to destroy.
I watch Sage fuss with her hair and mutter about goat jail like it’s just another item on her to-do list.
And suddenly, I can’t breathe.
Not in the bad way.Not in thepanic-attack, someone-is-leaving-me-againkind of way.
In the ‘I never thought I’d have this’ kind of way.
Because two years ago, if you'd told me I’d be in a goat-filled inn with a woman who lied to get me here, and I’d still feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life?
I would’ve laughed you out of the server room.
But now?
I feel something I haven’t in a long time.
Peace.
