Boot(s)

49 - Boot

Coach Jackson

It was hard pulling myself from Bobby's vice grip on my torso, but the thought of what to come that day was enough to get my ass out of bed, put on my leg, and get in the car.

When I knocked on Mr. O's door, it took him about 4 minutes to get there. I heard him call "coming!" three separate times. Had he just forgotten there was someone at the door, or was still changing out of his flannel pajamas, it was hard to say. I made a mental note to tell Bo later. Despite the fact one of us checked in on him almost every day, we all still worried.

His hair was slicked back with water from his morning shower, but he was neatly dressed in one of his corduroy button-downs tucked into his 80's Levi's. He smiled with his teeth like me showing up at his door at 9 a.m. the day after Christmas was better than the celebration of Christ's birthday itself.

"Pete! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Good morning, Mr. O. Merry Christmas. Sorry about last night." We were supposed to drop by and exchange gifts at dinner, but the events of the day had drained both of us and despite the nature of the holiday, we couldn't bring ourselves to feign Christmas cheer.

"Oh no worries, no worries, I went and stopped by Nancy's instead." I could feel my eyebrows raise. Mr. O coughed slightly, as if this was a secret he shouldn't have disclosed. I made another mental note to tell Bo."What's up with you two today?"

"That's actually why I'm here," I told him, rolling my shoulders back and giving him my best sincere, Sergeantly look. "We're getting married, Pop."

This time, his smile literally took my breath away. My chest swelled with pride at the thought. Today I would become his son.

"Married." He was whispering. "Amazing."

"It's a bit of a surprise," I explained, holding my hand out for him to take. ("No shit!" he said back to me.) I stepped backward down his front porch steps. "But I am going to need you to come with me."

He took my hand, despite beginning a bumbling monologue of "but I'm not dressed!" and "I didn't prepare any speech!" and "so that's why you're wearing a tux!"

I assured him that none of it mattered. We just needed him.

When we pulled into our driveway, I smiled at the sight of Jessie's car in the driveway. If all was going to plan, she was stripping Bobby's confused form down and getting him into his best church duds.

Suddenly Bella's little face was taking up the entire drivers' side window. She was waving wildly and smiling with every muscle in her face. She motioned for me to get out of the car.

"Back away, child," I told her, pushing the door open slowly as she stepped back, hopping in place, her sneakers lighting up beneath the white tufts of the tutu she was wearing.

"Wedding day! Wedding day! Wedding – awwww you look so handsome!"

I snorted. "How's your godfather doing? Confused yet?"

She nodded. "Mom's getting him dressed. I think he thinks we're going to a funeral. Mom was acting crazy. By the way, I got Max from next door for pictures."

Max from next door was indeed, here for pictures. He was our gangly teenage neighbor who was into art, poetry, and photography. It was hilarious, really. Bobby told me he had been trying to get the kid into basketball since Bobby moved here. He was the only teenage boy on the block, and thus, the only young mind Bobby could mentor on the court. Max relented every step of the way. Bobby eventually stopped trying to mold him, and the two agreed they were better off bonding over their Chocolate Labs.

"Max, hey. Thanks so much for this." He was wearing all black, with a backpack full of lenses and his Nikon swung loosely around his neck. He really looked the part.

"Of course!" No one seemed to be able to stop smiling. "I'll be a fly on the wall, I promise. No posed photos like you asked. Only candids. Mission accepted."

"Good!" I shook his hand, slipping him a few fifties. "Let's get this show on the road then."

Despite the words coming out of my mouth, I couldn't pull myself away from the car door. Married. We were getting married. And I hadn't even told him.

We were getting married, and he was most likely dying. I had no idea how long I'd get to hold him at night, call him my husband, and get to introduce myself as an O'Callahan. Yet here I was, doing it anyway. Ready to fight like Hell for every single second of being his person.

"Peter!"

I couldn't see over the top of the Jeep, so I took the few steps I needed to get around it. When I saw him, I lost my breath.

He was coming down the front stairs, adjusting a cuff link, his eyes wide and his lips parted, searching for me. As soon as he saw me, tuxedo and all, he stopped. I watched his adams apple bob up and down. Then, he covered his face in his hands, turned away from me, and took a deep breath. I could see his shoulders rise and fall. Once. Twice. The air around us was so still. Next to him, Jessie, teary-eyed, placed a hand on his shoulder. She pressed him to turn around.

When he did, his bottom lip was sucked into his teeth. He had cried, clearly. I took a few steps toward him. He was still breathing so deeply. His hands reached out for me before I was within touching distance.

"I love you," he told me. I was in his arms a second later. "And I cannot wait to marry you." He was sniffling into my neck, and his voice was breaking at every syllable, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Good," I swallowed back the lump in my throat, trying to force a laugh. "Because I wasn't too sure how you would react."

He pulled away from me, placing his hands on my cheeks instead. "Peter, I waited 16 years for you. I think that's long enough."

A mere two hours and a set of shaky, teary vows later, we were married. In a courthouse, surrounded by our family, and of course, Max. We had no rings to exchange (they were already on) and no party to plan. Nancy, my stand-in mother, was our official witness, and Pop was able to see his only son marry the man he loved before he couldn't even remember either of them. It was a day I will hold close to my heart for the rest of my life.

We were a mess of tangled limbs and hot skin in bed later that night when I finally gave Bo my vows.

"What? You already said your vows?"

I shook my head, pushing myself up off the bed. I grabbed the stack of faded folded notebook paper from my nightstand and handed it to him.

"What is all this?"

I cleared my throat. "Part of my journal. From years ago. Was looking through it late last night. You know I've never been any good at emotions. So, I figured this would be better than anything I could say."

He didn't even look at me. He was already almost two pages in.