Point of Retreat

about the houses? Which one will you guys live in?" Gavin says.
     
    Lake looks at me and nods. We've been talking about it for two weeks now, even before the proposal tonight. After having her stay here, we both knew it would be impossible to live in separate houses again. We came up with the plan about a week ago, but tonight seems like the perfect night to share it.
     
    "That's one of the reasons we wanted you guys to come over," I say. "I had about three years left on my mortgage and no less than two weeks after Julia passed away, the title came in the mail. She paid it off before she died. She paid the rent on Lake's house through September, that's when her lease is up. So now we'll have an empty house with six months of pre-paid rent. We know you guys are looking for a place before the baby comes…so we're offering you Lake's. Until September, anyway...then you'll have to sign your own lease."
     
    Neither one of them says anything. They just look at us in shock. Gavin shakes his head and starts to protest. Eddie slaps her hand over his mouth and turns to me. "We'll take it! We'll take it, we'll take it, we'll take it!" She starts clapping and jumps up and hugs Lake, then hugs me. "Oh my god you guys are the best friends ever ! Aren't they Gavin?"
     
    He smiles, not really wanting to appear desperate, but I know how much they need a place of their own. Eddie's excitement eventually outweighs Gavin’s modesty and he can no longer contain himself. He hugs Lake, then hugs me, then hugs Eddie, then hugs me again. When they finally calm down and sit back down on the couch, Gavin's smile fades.
     
    “Do you know what this means?" he says to Eddie. “Kirsten's about to be our parallel neighbor."
     
     
     
     
     

 
    Friday, March 2 nd , 2012.
     
     
     
     
     
    It’s worth all the aches,
     
    All the tears,
     
    the mistakes…
     
    The heart of a man and a woman in love?
     
    It’s worth all of the pain in the world.
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eighteen
     
    I’ve spent the last two weeks giving her every opportunity to opt out of doing things this way. Lake insists she doesn’t want a traditional wedding, but I don’t want her to regret her decision someday. Most girls spend years planning out how they want their wedding to be. But then again, Lake’s not most girls.
     
    I take a deep breath, not really understanding why I'm so jittery. I'm sort of glad it's so informal. I couldn't imagine how shot my nerves would be if we had more of an audience. My hands won't stop sweating, so I wipe them on my jeans. She insisted I wear jeans, said she didn’t want to see me in a tux. I’m not sure what dress she picked out for today, but she didn’t want to wear a wedding dress. She didn’t see the point in buying one if she was only wearing it once.
     
    We aren’t doing the traditional aisle walk, either. In fact, nothing about this is traditional. I’m pretty sure her and Eddie are down the hall in the courthouse public restroom doing her makeup right now. It all seems so surreal…marrying the love of your life in the same building where you can register a car. But honestly, it wouldn’t matter where we got married…I'd be just as excited…and just as nervous.
     
    When the doors open, there isn’t any music. No flower girls or ring bearers. Just Eddie. She walks in and takes a seat in one of the chairs next to Kel. The Judge walks in right after Eddie sits down and hands me another form to sign.
     
    “You forgot to date this,” he says.
     
    He gives me a pen so I take the form and press it down on the podium in front of me and date it. March 2 nd , 2012. That’s our day. Mine and Lake’s day. I hand the paper back to him and the door to the courtroom opens again. When I turn around, Lake’s walking in, smiling. As soon as I lay eyes on her, a wave of relief washes over me. I'm immediately calm. She has that effect on me.
     
    She looks beautiful. She’s wearing blue jeans too. I laugh when I notice the shirt she has on. She’s wearing that damn ugly shirt I love to hate. If I could have hand-picked myself what she would wear on our wedding day, it would be exactly this.
     
    When she walks up to me, I wrap my arms around her, pick her up and spin her around. When I plant her feet back on the floor, she whispers in my ear.
     
    “Two more hours.”
     
    She isn’t referring to the marriage, she’s referring to the honeymoon. I grab her face and kiss her.