“Thank you for the clarification,” Iris deadpans.
“It’s actually a very romantic thing to say. My point is that—”
“No, I totally get it, honey. It’s lovely. Thank you.”
I laugh at her deadpan delivery. But a moment later, out of nowhere, seriousness settles into my chest. Moisture pricks my eyes. I clear my throat. “All kidding aside, though ...” I take a deep breath to wrangle my emotion and take her hands again. “Iris, I love you more than I knew was possible. I trust you. I respect you. Admire and adore you. I vow to be your loving and faithful husband, forever, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, till death takes me away from you, far too early. If I had infinite lifetimes, I’d want to spend every single one of them as your husband.”
Iris wipes a tear. “That’s so beautiful, Roman. I love you, too. Infinitely.”
I peck Iris’s lips—even though it’s not technically the time to do that yet—as Luca says, “Not too shabby, Romie. In fact, that was so good, I’m not even mad I just lost a hundred bucks to Marco.”
“Not enough football references for you?” I ask.
“Why didn’t you make any? With all Iris’s football references, I figured I was golden.”
“Iris’s football references don’t count,” Marco says. “Remember? We already agreed to that.”
“I don’t know if weagreedto that,” Levi says. “I feel like we raised the idea but never really made a firm rule about it.”
“Hey, guys?” I ask politely. “Can you maybe hash out the results of the bet after the ceremony is over? I’d very much like to finish getting married now.”
Raucous laughter abounds.
“You’ve got it,” Luca says. “I’ll keep things moving, brother.”
“Thank you.”
With a chuckle, Luca beckons to Maverick. “You’re up, buddy. Bring me those rings so we can officially tie this knot.”
Maverick offers up his closely guarded pillow to his uncle, who quickly unties the fake rings attached to it and swaps in the real ones from his pocket. A moment after that, the rings are on our fingers and the ceremony is done and dusted.
“Time to kiss your bride, Romie!” Luca booms.
“With pleasure.” As my brother pronounces us husband and wife, I lean in and gleefully lock lips with Iris.My wife.
“By the power vested in me by the State of California and the certificate I bought online,” Luca bellows, “let me introduce to you: Mr. and Mrs. Roman and Iris Maguire!”
With a whoop and a fist pump, I grab my wife in one hand and my son in the other and bound energetically down the sandy aisle, through exuberant faces, cheers, and applause, on my way to the happy life I never even dreamed could be possible for me—a life that’s sure to become our very own happily ever after.
Epilogue
Roman
Four Years Later
“You can’t stomparound like that, Maddox,” I say. “Or the fish will swim away.”
“Don’t you want to eat trout for dinner?” Iris adds. “You love trout.”
“But I’m wearing my boots,” Maddox offers, referring to the rubber boots he insisted on wearing for today’s family fishing expedition, specifically because he wanted to stomp along the shallow edges of the slow-moving creek on our property.
Our little family is back in Orchard Blossom for the third time since we bought the Claxton place a year ago, and once again, we’re fishing our stream for rainbow trout. Iris and Maverick are taking their fishing seriously, as usual, from a spot that’s slightly upstream from Maddox, Ivy, and me. That’s a good thing, given that we’re hoping to feast on a dinner of freshly caught rainbow trout tonight. The Mighty Maddox started out fishing like the rest of us earlier, but after only about fifteen minutes, he got bored with the whole idea, so I’m manning his fishing rod now, along with mine, while also carrying our newborn baby girl who’s strapped to my chest.
Ivy always sleeps the longest when she’s being held, whether that’s in our arms or in this hands-free carrier. So, she basically lives in it when we go out. That suits me fine, of course. I love having her close. If it were feasible, I’d never take Ivy off my chest, other than to ravage my wife, sleep, shower, and play with my boys. That’s what the offseason has always been about for me. Spending time with my family and relaxing. Now that I’veretired, I’m not sure what my life will look like, exactly, in terms of how I’ll spend my time. All I know is it will include plenty of intentional, concentrated family time, just like this, no matter what business ventures might come my way.
“Maddox,” ten-year-old Maverick pleads with his little brother when he splashes in the shallow water again. “Chill.I’m trying to catch a fish.”
I burst out laughing, and Iris does too. That’s been our family’s mantra for at least a year now.Chill, Maddox. Please.Good lord, our three-year-old has infinite energy and zero fear. Was Maverickthisinsane when he was his little brother’s age? I didn’t live with Maverick full-time back then, so maybe I missed out on this same level of daredevil enthusiasm with him, but I don’t think so. Now that Maverick is ten, I can confidently proclaim he’s truly my mini-me in every way. Not only physically, but in terms of his demeanor and personality, too. Just like me, my older son is meticulous. Driven. Careful. Ruthlessly competitive. But Maddox? With his carefree personality and insatiable lust for adventure, he’s more Luca Maguire than Roman. God help me.
