Page 163 of The Complete Truth Duet
In the semi-end, the professor found out. Matthew almost got kicked out and ended up switching schools the last semester before he graduated.
In the real end, we were standing in a church, the zipper on Savannah’s dress halfway up, stuck, and now officially broken. All of this happening twenty minutes before her wedding to aforementioned Dr. Matthew Lintz, DMD.
Seriously, the kid could not do anything without drama.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Savannah cried.
“I told you you should have gotten the one with the corset back,” River taunted.
Oh! And Savannah was pregnant. This news came a year after the engagement and only three weeks before the wedding, hence the only reason Dr. Matthew Lintz, DMD, was still alive and not buried in my backyard while Penn’s muddy boots sat on my back deck.
“Okay, simmer down. I’ve got this. It’s no big deal.” I did not have it and it was a huge big deal, but I was good in the face of turmoil.
I took the tweezers, shook off the metal tab, and pinched them right onto the head of the zipper. “Okay, suck in for a second.”
“I am sucking in!”
River laughed. “Okay, then tell your demon spawn to suck in too.”
“Can someone please just go get Dad? He’ll know how to fix this.”
Savannah had never called Penn anything but dad again. In the beginning, she had done it to tease him. Then, as the months turned into years, she did it to annoy him. But then she started doing it because I think she wanted it to be true. With the way she’d grown up, it was easy to understand why she’d latched onto Penn. And, not surprisingly, Penn had latched right back.
River walked to the door and pulled it open. “Penn, your majesty needs your help.”
“She dressed?” he asked cautiously.
“That’s uh…kinda what she needs help with. But yeah, she’s not naked. Come in.”
It had been over a decade since he first walked through the door to my apartment, but I still got chills when he entered a room—the smoking-hot gray suit he was wearing didn’t hurt, either.
We were different people now. And Penn wasn’t wrong. Different was not bad.
Penn had gone back to investing in real estate, dabbling with a few new builds along the way. And I’d graduated from college and started working as his bookkeeper. I went on maternity leave when I had Hope, and then four years later, I quit altogether when Shane was born. That aptly named little boy looked just like his father. Not even kidding, the child came out scowling. Where Hope had always been a chatter box even before she’d had words, Shane was quiet and stoic, always observing the world around him.
“Hey, baby, what’s going—oh, wow.” His eyes got wide as he slid his gaze down her strapless, white wedding dress. It was so tasteful and classic that not even over-protective Penn could find something to complain about.
I had never seen Penn cry. Overwhelmed with emotion, absolutely. He’d done the laughing-and-smiling-so-big-your-eyes-start-to-water thing the days Hope and Shane were born. But Savannah was different for him. She had never been a baby, but she was his first daughter to wear a wedding dress.
“Jesus,” he breathed, scrubbing a hand over his cheek. “You look beautiful.”
She crumbled as he pulled her into a hug. “My dress is broken.”
“No crying. Your makeup will run!” I told her as I took off to get a tissue.
When I got back, Penn was already at the back of her dress. “Oh, it’s fine. It’s not broken. I got this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some kind multipurpose tool. “I need a hair pin, a mint, and a hockey ticket.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“It was a joke, Cor.” He waved me off as he bent to pick up the broken piece of the zipper off the floor. He pinched it back onto the dress, gave it a hard jerk, and zipped it the rest of the way up like it was the easiest thing in the world. Dads were good like that.
“Oh, thank God,” Savannah breathed, patting over her heart. She turned, placed a peck on Penn’s cheek, and then took off to the bathroom, calling out to River, “I have to pee! It’s your duty to hold my dress.”
River groaned. “You’ve been in the dress ten seconds. Why didn’t you pee first? I’m not holding your freaking dress.” But she said it while walking after her and would no doubt hold her freaking dress.
My husband stole my attention with his lips at my neck. “I’m not sure the mother of the bride is supposed to be this hot.”
I laughed. “I’m not sure the mother of the bride is supposed to be thirty-nine and a soon-to-be grandmother, either.”
His hands found my hips and he pulled me against his front. “Don’t remind me she’s having a baby if you want me to get through this ceremony without castrating Matthew.”
