EMMA

My legs swing back and forth in the high stool, my face cupped in my left hand as I rummage through the left-over pastries with the sticky fingers of my right.

I'm still in my dress - it's not every day I get to wear such pretty dresses. It's pink and puffy and I look like a princess. So I'm also careful not to get any crumbs on it.

As I pop a small, perfectly symmetrical cake into my mouth, I watch my mother, leaning on the island, a long-stemmed wine glass rolling between her fingers lazily. The deep burgundy liquid sloshes slowly as she hums to herself. It's the same song from earlier, the one she danced to with Daddy.

I wanted to dance with Daddy. He said we will - plenty of times. Today was special for Mommy.

But I wanted it to be like Mommy and Daddy's dance though: with people watching and wearing fancy clothes. Like a ball.

Again, Daddy just said we will. At something called my wedding.

All I know is that it seems like a long time to wait.

"Aren't you tired from the party?" Mommy smiles at me sweetly, only the very last of her lipstick still lining her full lips. I didn't know it then, but she was probably exhausted, ready for her seven year old to tuck into bed for the night.

"Nope." I smile back, teeth full of chocolate frosting. "I want a party that big someday, Mama."

My parents celebrated their fifteenth wedding anniversary in the backyard of the lake-house. Only it didn't look like our lake-house. It was like a fairytale.

A large white tent kept us protected from the sun all day, the breeze off the water keeping it the perfect temperature: not too hot, not too chilly. Flowers, in shades of soft pinks and purples, covered most surfaces in tall vases and baskets, wrapped in gorgeous silk ribbons.

All of our family came, and Mommy and Daddy's friends, and some of my friends, too. Everyone wore pretty clothes and high-heels. And makeup. Mommy said I couldn't wear that yet.

I pop a tart into my mouth and Mommy gives me a look. That look. The not-so-good look.

"Emma. You're going to get a belly ache if you keep eating all those treats." Her lips curve up as she took a sip of her wine and I know she's not really mad.

"No." I argue, rubbing my tummy for emphasis. "My belly never hurts from cake."

That is sort of a lie. The food was yummy today, too. There was so much, in fancy silver things. People in black ties and white shirts put it on our plates. Mommy said they got the cheese pizza just for me.

So my belly is full. But I still want treats.

I'm not supposed to lie, but there's one mini lemon pie left and I want to eat it. So I do, the sugary powder exploding from me in a cloud as I giggle at Mommy's silly face.

Now I've got it on my dress.

Her mouth makes a big O. "Emma!"

I laugh harder and then she's laughing too, kissing my hair. I lean against her chest, the smell of her perfume almost as good as a lullaby. Vanilla and roses.

"Did you have fun today, baby?" Her hand strokes my head and I can hear Daddy about to come inside, the familiar rattle of the garage door letting me know that he's done outside.

"Mhm." My grin fades as I scrunch my nose in disgust. "It was kinda yucky seeing you kiss Daddy so much."

Mommy smiles again and her voice makes me sleepy as she pulls me to her chest, wrapping my legs around her waist and lifting me from the stool.

"You think so?"

"Mhm." My eyelids are heavy as she carries me up the steps.

"Someday," Mommy whispers, "You might love someone like I love your daddy."

At this, my eyes blink wide open. "I don't think so, Mama."

We're in my bedroom now and as she lays me into bed, pulling the covers to just under my chin, she stares at me for a second. Then she pushes my bangs from my eyes, letting her hand rest on my cheek.

"I hope you do." She kisses my forehead, "And I hope he loves you like that right back."

I struggle to keep my eyes open, to argue that I'll never leave home, never leave them. To tell her that I love them so much I don't have room for a boy.

But sleep is calling to my little body, exhausted from a day of being passed relative to relative and gorging on too many snacks. I feel the bed shift as Mommy moves and turns out the light.

The star stickers Daddy put on my ceiling keep the darkness away. As I roll over, I see Mommy kiss Daddy's cheek in the doorway.

Then he sticks his head in even more and I sit up a little.

I see his smile in the dim light and it fills me up with a happy feeling.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

Then he says what always makes me feel special.

"Goodnight, Em. I love you."

Nobody else, not even Mommy, calls me Em.

With a smile, I turn over in bed and cover my head with my blanket, dreams of dancing with my Daddy and Mommy in my pretty, pink dress luring me into a deep sleep.

The wetness on my cheeks is what pulls me back to the present. My kitchen, the same kitchen I sat in with my Mom after the party, is dark, the streetlights coming through the front windows.

I was having trouble sleeping - Beau and I decided we didn't want to wait for a big wedding. We'd invite our friends and do it as quickly as possible. Leave it to Gemma and Nadine to whip up something extraordinary in just a week.

But now that I'm trying to sleep in the bed alone the night before my wedding, the one tradition Beau wanted to keep, I feel restless. Not with my decision. I'm confident about spending my life with Beau. I know I am.

I'm just struggling with... I don't know what.

I spent a couple of hours tossing and turning, trying to put my finger on what exactly was bothering me, before I finally came downstairs for some tea.

I must have dozed off and the dream, a vivid memory, slapped me awake.

I stare at my ring, a large, shimmering oval diamond on a dainty gold band, my brows furrowed and lips turned down.

Now I know what's bothering me.

In the craze of last minute details, in our case - every detail, I didn't even consider who would walk me down the aisle. Or rather, who wouldn't be doing the giving away.

I'm not supposed to walk alone.

I'm supposed to have a dance with my daddy, when he'd tear up but tell me how beautiful I look, how he'd kill Beau if he ever did anything to hurt me. To end the night by welcoming Beau to the family, anyways.

My mom is supposed to help me get ready, to make sure my dress is just right, to tell me things will be okay when I get nervous. To tell me how handsome Beau is, to hold Maggie in her lap while we say our vows.

Maggie.

My girl.

Just thinking her name calms my breathing, slows my heart rate and stops the tears. My chest feels fuller since having her, like she completed me. I hadn't even known I was missing anything to start with.

I wipe my eyes and stretch out of the island stool. Locating a notepad and a pen, I quietly head upstairs.

The guest room, Parker's bedroom's door is slightly ajar. Using the wall to stablilize the notepad, I scrawl a quick note and slip it under the door. I leave quickly, naturally making my way to Maggie's nursery.

If I could even just get a good look at her... I know I'd feel so much better.

Cracking the door, I'm greeted by the warmth of her nightlight, the soft sounds of rain from her noise maker.

I step inside, tiptoeing to close the door behind me. I halt quickly, my torso almost falling forward as I narrowly avoid stepping on a large lump on the floor.

Upon closer inspection, I realize the lump is actually Beau, softly snoring across the carpet, his fingers still stuck between the bars of Maggie's crib.

Maybe this is cheating - breaking the separate bedroom rule, but I don't care. I came for Maggie, her sweet, honey scent and baby-fine hair, her chubby legs and smooth skin, but seeing the two of them, sleeping side by side, their chests rising and falling in harmony, is somehow even better.

I take a moment to admire Beau's topless body and find myself following the lines of his tattoos, the way I always have. Sometimes I think about getting my own, wonder what it'd be like to wear such art on my skin, but - wait.

My sight focuses on his exposed shoulder, the muscles in his back rippling as he twitches in his sleep. Where there used to be blank space, there is now dark ink. I shine my phone flashlight and lean in for a closer look.

My anxieties melt away, my worries and sadnesses dulling into the background.

On his shoulder, a nearly exact copy of Maggie's baby portrait, her big eyes staring back at me. The likeness is startling, but so beautiful I almost reach out to touch it.

For fear of waking him, I don't, moving onto his other new tattoo.

At the base back of his neck, two bold letters. EM.

Tears prick my eyes.

The tattoos still look red and raised, and I wonder if this is why Beau wanted to spend the night apart. Had he snuck off to get them while Gemma forced me to look at color schemes? Was it supposed to be a surprise?

I peer over the bars of the crib, taking in the little bow of Maggie's lip, her long lashes brushing against pink cheeks, her blonde curls sticking to her skin.

An angel in every way. I know there will be a day when she won't be, when she'll frustrate me or rebel against us, but for now...

With a secret smile, I think about what Mom told me that night, about hoping I'd find a love like hers, and make my way from the nursery.

Settling into my own bed, one I can't wait to resume sharing with Beau, a calm, tiredness comes over me.

I know that I've found it - that love she wanted for me. The love people write songs about.

Snuggling under the covers, I drift to sleep, a content peacefulness overpowering my previous restlessness.

No, I will not have my parents with me when I get married.

But I'll have those two. And that, for the rest of my life, is beyond enough.

what do we think!!
em's got pre-wedding jitters
we have... 4 chapters and an epilogue left! and I've got a couple surprises for you all❤️
do you guys have any guesses what the surprises are?