No one else looked warm enough, but a truly astonishing number of people had shown up to stand on the plywood platforms, bundled in winter coats against the snow that had started falling. There were no extravagant dresses, no tuxedos besides the one Sam was in, no high heels or fancy hats. Instead there were shining, happy faces that tilted toward one another, murmuring as people pointed, laughed quietly, and took in the whole setup. Sam had no idea how so many people had heard about the wedding, and even less why they would care, but it filled him with joy to see them coming together for himself and Lola.
Especially Lola.
She'd come out of the tailor's shop, escorted by Charlee, followed by two men he didn't know, and wrapped in a large, fluffy…blanket, apparently. Sam assumed that wasn't her wedding dress, but then again, he knew nothing about haute couture.
But no: as they reached the plywood 'aisle', the men behind her accepted the blanket when Lola lifted it off, and an admiring gasp that turned to cheers ran through the crowd. Sam's vision blurred so badly he could barely see as Charlee walked Lola the first few steps toward the gazebo, and he dashed the tears away, his heart breaking with joy.
His bride wore a tea-length dress in ice blue, off the shoulder with a wide, dimpled boat neckline that zigged, then zagged back the other way down the bodice with ice-white statement buttons before falling into thick, satiny pleats in a full skirt. Her tiny diamond jewelry glittered at her throat and ears, and she wore a dinky veiled hat in the same heavy pale satin on her white hair. Sam wiped his eyes again, all but speechless, though he managed to whisper, "You're so beautiful," as a beaming Chef Charlee transferred her grandmother's hand from her own arm to Sam's.
Lola's eyes shone. "Not bad for an old lady, huh? You look wonderful, too." Her eyes widened. "Foxy, one might say."
Sam choked with laughter and pulled her into a hug, mumbling nonsense into her hair. "God, I love you."
"I love you too," Lola whispered. "But we're supposed to do this partafterthe judge has done her part."
"Oh, take your time," Judge Owens said with a suspicious sniffle of her own, before lifting her voice to welcome the unexpected audience to their wedding.
The ceremony itself was brief, beautiful, and completely outshone by Lola. Sam could only gaze at her, stunned and overjoyed, and obediently repeat what he was told to say, until the moment came when he was able to put the ring on her finger with shaking hands, and then kiss his bride. Another cheer went up as they embraced, and Sam was vaguely aware that everyone around them was crying, just like he was, just like Lola was. His kids and hers hugged, first each other, then them, until even the space heaters weren't enough to keep the cold at bay and the snow was starting to pile up on the plywood walkways.
"All right!" Charlee called. "Everybody back to Hold My Bear! Nana, make sure you don't fall."
"I'm pretty sure I can fly right now," Lola said happily, but she clung to Sam's arm, and he swore he would never,everlet her fall.
"Where…that dress…how?" Because even Sam could tell the gown was not one that had been thrown together in a few hours. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world, Charlotte 'Lola' Nelson Brown."
"He's making one for some young woman here in town," Lola whispered. "This was an early direction they decided not to go with, but it was nearly finished anyway. He made some adjustments and…" She gestured at herself, obviously astonished. "Todd."
Sam mock-groaned. "Oh no. Not Ted Todd again."
"Lola Todd," she said, and Sam's knees nearly stopped working.
"Really?"
"I've been waiting a very long time to be Lola Todd, Sam. Yes, of course, really."
He made an incoherent noise and crushed her into his arms again, not caring that they were supposed to be making their way to the pub, not caring that half the town was standing around beaming at them. "Mrs Todd?"
"Mrs Todd," she agreed gleefully. "It's about time, don't you think?"
"I wouldn't have presumed," he whispered helplessly. "I love you so much, Lola."
"Me too." Lola glowed as she looked up at him. "A whole lifetime. Nothing could be better, Sam. I'm so happy. I love you so much."
"I loveyouso—" He realized they were repeating each other, and laughed, but couldn't stop himself. "I do, though."
"Oh good," a child's authoritative voice said. "Everybody's here for the statue contest."
"Oh,God," a woman said immediately. "No, Noah. It's too cold and this is someone'swedding."
"I know," Noah said cheerfully. "I met them yesterday. They're good statues. And everybody's here! It'll be fast! It's not that cold!"
"You'resix," the woman—presumably his mother—said. "Your idea of cold is different from an adult's."
Sam, Lola, and almost everyone else had turned to look at the pair by then. A purple-haired woman managed to look at the little boy with both exasperation and fondness, while Noah stood arms akimbo, an expression of hopeful, slightly confused defiance on his face. "How can my idea of cold be different from a grown-ups? Isn't cold…cold?"
Lola laughed, drawing his attention as she shook her head. "Older people feel the cold more. But…" She glanced at Sam with a smile. "I bet not very many people have statue contests at their wedding."
"Yessss!" Noah leaped up and punched the air, then tried to arrange himself with an air of dignity as his mother gave him a sharp look. "I mean, that would be very nice!"
