I did not tell any of them that Lindy’s just doing this for Jo. Only Thayden knows the details, and I invoked client confidentiality. Which meant he also charged me for the hour-long phone call where we discussed his marriage to Delilah, but whatever.
Their relationship started out because Thayden needed to fulfill his father’s inheritance clause, and Delilah needed money. According to him, he wore her down and by their wedding, it was all real. Now, they’re one of the most disgustingly in love couples I’ve seen—at last glance, kissing in the third row of the courtroom—so I’m crossing my fingers here.
“Give me just another minute,” Judge Judie tells Lindy. There’s some lawyer with an apparently urgent matter. He’s been gesticulating wildly behind the bench for several minutes. Meanwhile the courtroom keeps getting louder. Half of Sheet Cake is here, plus my big family and a lot of friends.
“Take your time,” Lindy says, all while looking as though she’s about to bolt.
Just in case, I grab her hand. It’s a little clammy. Bringing it up to my lips, I press a kiss to her knuckles. She blinks at me with those wide green eyes, and I can see her trying to retreat past the wall she’s built.
Not on my watch, darlin’。 Not on my watch.
I pull Mama’s ring out of my pocket. “I’m supposed to give this to you later, but I feel like now’s a good time.”
Lindy’s lips part as she stares down at the simple gold band and the single, albeit large, square diamond. She touches it with a single finger, the way you might poke a critter you find, unsure if it’s alive or dead.
“It won’t bite.”
She glares at me. “Pat—I didn’t think we were doing all this.”
“This was my mom’s ring,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she breathes.
I can feel her starting to tense, starting to pull back. Any second now, she’ll say it’s too much or I just can’t or it wouldn’t be right. And I just won’t have it. Without giving her time to form an argument, I turn over the hand I’m holding and slide the ring in place, praying it fits.
It does. Like it was made for Lindy.
“It’s beautiful,” Lindy says. “Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Suddenly, I am missing my mom. I always do. Missing her is a constant ache, like the faint stiffness in my bad ankle. But there are times even now when her absence is a runaway train, hurtling over my tracks. I wish she were here. I hate how many things she’s missing. I know she’d want to be here. And this ring makes it so in a tiny way, she is here.
I feel like I’m about to burst with happiness and simultaneously melt into a puddle of tears.
Lindy looks alarmed. “Are you okay?”
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my suit. “Just thinking about my mom.”
Her expression softens, and I almost fall down dead when Lindy takes my hand and squeezes. “I miss mine too,” she confesses. “I couldn’t invite her today because the doctors thought she might get upset and confused.”
Her words catch on what sounds suspiciously like a sob, and without stopping to question it, I pull my seventy-two-hour fiancée into my arms. Lindy trembles against me.
She clings to me, and I lean in, speaking softly, my lips brushing her hair. “Do you want to call this thing off?” Please say no. “Do you want to pick up your mama? Or move the ceremony to her facility?” Complicated, but doable.
I try not to hold my breath, waiting for a response. Lindy sniffs. “I’m okay,” she says, voice strong but quiet. “We’re here, so we should do it.”