Pat shrugs, grabbing the paper and folding it up before shoving it into his pocket. “Posterity. Also, just in case I need to remind you how I made you want to break them all.”
“That’s the kind of gloating I can handle.”
Pulling me close, Pat’s lips find mine. He kisses me through my smile, through the words he speaks next. “Those rules may be void, but the piece of paper saying we’re married still stands. Are you okay with that? Are you okay being mine, so long as we both shall live, for real?”
“More than okay,” I tell him, pulling back enough to meet his eyes. “Now, stop standing here talking and take me home, husband.”
Epilogue
Pat
They say the third time’s the charm and for me, at least in terms of standing before Judge Judie’s bench, that is absolutely true.
The first time, I received an ankle monitor. The second, I gave a ring. And this third time, I’m gaining a daughter.
The courtroom is just as packed—no, maybe more—than on my wedding day. And I dare you to find a dry eye in the place. Actually, I take that back. Jo isn’t crying. She is smiling so big someone could trip and fall right into her dimple. It could be me.
I wipe my eyes, and Lindy hands me a tissue over the top of Jo’s head. It’s already a little damp, but I’m not a picky man. My wife and I can share a tear-stained tissue. After all, we’re about to share everything else.
“Last question,” Judge Judie says, and I swear even her voice warbles a bit.
Has she been asking questions? Have I been answering them? This whole day is like a wild dream come true.
“Lindy and Patrick Graham, is it your intention to provide Jo Darcy with a loving home?”
“Yes,” Lindy says, just as I say, “And then some.”
There are a few chuckles in the back, and Jo squeezes both of our hands. Judge Judie nods, then turns her fierce eyes on Jo.
“And Jojo—just to be sure, you want to proceed with this adoption?”
“Absolutely. Let’s official this.”
I’m not sure if I imagine or actually hear Tank’s groan at the way Jo just verbed a noun. He doesn’t need to worry though. I know it was for my ears. Most of the time, Jo corrects what she calls my abuse of the English language. I give her hand an extra squeeze and wink when she turns that smile up on me.
“Well, then.” Judge Judie shifts, and I realize she’s holding out the gavel to Jo. “You want to gavel us to a close, Jojo?”
I definitely hear Tank groan this time. Sue me if I’m an influencer. I can’t help the gifts I’ve been born with, and starting trends seems to be one.
I hoist Jo up on my hip so she can reach. Lindy steps closer, winding her arm around my waist and putting a hand on Jo’s shoulder. This is how we’ve spent the last few weeks: together.
Like, so together that I think other people are sick of our togetherness. Too bad for them, because we aren’t sick of it. We’re just getting started.
Leaning forward, Jo raises the gavel, then pauses, thinking. Clearing her throat, she says, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce us … FAMILY.”
Not even a little bit legal, but hey. It’s ridiculously adorable. And as Jo bangs the gavel down perhaps harder than necessary to claps, cheers, and hollers, no one cares. The judge signs the decree of adoption, and we are officially OFFICIAL.
Judge Judie stands, taking off her robe to reveal a worn pair of overalls underneath. “I missed the wedding celebration due to work, but I’m not missing another one. Let’s party, y’all!”
I’m still carrying Jo, who somehow managed to steal the judge’s gavel. But Lindy pulls me to a stop before we’re swallowed in the throng of well-wishers. She wraps her arms around us both in a quick hug, then kisses Jo’s cheek and plants a longer kiss on my lips.