“You are impatient.”
“Frequently terrifying.”
“Unreasonably generous.”
“Terrible at accepting help.”
“And the first person since Rachel died who made me understand that loving again doesn't erase what came before.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“You don't replace anything.”
“You added something.”
He looked toward Noah.
“Someone.”
Noah pretended not to cry.
Daniel continued.
“I love the life we have.”
“I want more of it.”
“Will you marry me?”
Claire held out her hand.
“Yes.”
Then she kissed him.
Noah clapped.
A mechanic in the next bay shouted:
“Finally!”
Claire pulled away.
“How many people knew?”
Daniel looked guilty.
“Most.”
She laughed.
Their wedding happened the following winter.
Not at Pine Hollow Lodge.
Too obvious.
Instead they chose a smaller mountain inn outside Aspen.
Snow fell the morning of the ceremony.
Claire considered it a threat.
Daniel considered it tradition.
The white Cadillac transported her.
Yes.
That Cadillac.
She had kept it.
Daniel eventually replaced the entire connector assembly because he could no longer tolerate Robert Bennett’s improvised mechanism.
He kept the original in a small labeled box.
ROBERT’S BAD IDEA.
Claire added underneath:
THAT WORKED.
They placed the photograph of Robert and Michael near the entrance to the reception.
Not as masterminds.
As fathers.
Flawed.
Funny.
Interfering.
Dead too soon.
Rachel’s photograph stood beside Daniel’s family table.
Claire insisted.
Noah hugged her when he saw it.
Before the ceremony began, Paige entered Claire’s dressing room.
“You realize none of this happens without me.”
Claire looked at her reflection.
“Yes.”
“You're welcome.”
“You violated multiple social boundaries.”
“Productively.”
Renee entered behind her.
“We want credit in the speech.”
“No.”
“Small credit.”
“No.”
“Footnote?”
Claire turned.
“I will tell everyone two women with no respect for privacy caused this.”
Paige smiled.
“Perfect.”
The ceremony was simple.
No dramatic vows written like movie monologues.
Daniel said:
“I choose you.”
Claire said:
“I choose you too.”
That was enough.
At the reception, Noah gave a speech.
He was sixteen now.
Tall.
Beginning to look like Daniel.
He stood at the microphone.
“I was told to keep this short.”
Everyone looked at Paige.
She had clearly advised him.
Noah continued.
“My dad has spent most of my life fixing things.”
“Cars.”
“Engines.”
“Dishwashers.”
“One terrible lawn mower.”
“Sometimes people.”
Daniel shook his head.
Noah smiled.
“But when Mom died, I thought there were things he couldn't fix.”
“I was right.”
The room became quiet.