Two for the Aisle

March: New Direction (6 Months, 13 Days)

Tate shifted impatiently from foot to foot in the entryway of the Victorian house in St. George. Matt and Topher had disappeared to somewhere rather secretively earlier in the day and Tate was going to take everyone else – Delia, Beau, Cameron, Kelly, and Patrick – through the way to get to his new apartment. The only thing he had left to move was the small carry-on suitcase containing his pajamas, previous day’s clothing, and his toiletries. Otherwise he was successfully moved out of the Victorian, and his apartment at The Standish was ready and waiting.

“We’re going to miss you, you know,” Delia said, standing in the doorway to the front parlor where the piano resided. “It’s been nice to have a full house.”

“I know you guys are betting on how long I’ll last on my own.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“That’s because part of us doesn’t want you to go. It’s been like we were kids again, all those family functions we were forced to go to in Minnesota.” She leaned delicately against the molding, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the full skirt of her burgundy dress.

“He looks exactly like Uncle Eddie,” Tate said quietly. “And…he and Matt are good for each other.”

“I know.” Delia smiled. “My sister looks more and more like our mother every day. Thankfully, you don’t bear any resemblance to the Great Mugwump or we’d be up shit creek without a paddle.”

Tate laughed. “You know, the woman who was with Topher and I when I signed the rental agreement thought I was our grandfather. Topher nearly pissed himself he was laughing so hard after she left.”

“Delly?” said a small voice to her left. Cameron hovered at the end of the piano.

“Hey, Cam. Is everybody else ready to go now?”

She nodded. “Can I hold you hand on the ferry?”

“Of course.” Delia mock-glared at her cousin. “Watch your language. There are such things as swear jars.”

“Matty dropped a whole fifty in there one time,” Cameron said solemnly.

“I’m sure he did,” Tate agreed. Matt had a mouth like a retired Navy trucker.

Kelly and Beau joined them moments later, a baby carrier hanging from the crook of his arm while Kelly toted the diaper bag.

“The base is already in the Suburban,” Delia said, fishing her keys from her purse. “So is Cam’s car seat.”

“I’ll fit in the middle with them,” Kelly said.

“Where are putting Matt and Toph?” Tate asked.

Delia, with Cameron’s hand in her own, had nearly made it to the door. She looked over her shoulder and said, “They’re at your place. They’ve been for at least a couple hours now.”

Tate’s expression of horror mixed with incredulity was priceless, and Kelly caught it all with her digital camera.

Topher opened the door to Tate’s apartment immediately after the new occupant knocked, still grumbling under his breath about being let into my own apartment, damn it.

“Swear jar, Tate,” he said with a smile. He held up a finger and called over his shoulder, “Matty?”

There was a thump and Matt appeared like magic around the corner at the end of the short hallway leading into the apartment proper. “We’re good. Hey, Tate. Nice place.”

“Thank you,” Tate said. The two of them were a match made in heaven, as far as he was concerned. Marriage was supposed to mellow people, wasn’t it? If anything, the prospect of getting hitched had the opposite effect on those two.