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When Rebecca wakes up at noon after a long, lovely night, Ted is awake already. He’s on his back, staring at the ceiling.
They haven’t spent as much time together in bed as she’d like yet (understatement of the fucking century), but she’s already noticed that this is something of a habit for Ted. It’s ironic, that she’d once thought his head was full of nothing but folksy aphorisms and references to musicals. It’s just the opposite. That brain of his never seems quite able to power down all the way, not even from jetlagged exhaustion. Her poor worrier.
“Morning,” she says, snuggling up to him.
He brightens. “Hey there.”
“Brooding again?” she asks, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Me? Nah.”
“Ruminating?”
“There might be a tad of ruminating,” he admits. “Not to be confused with room-a-Nate-ing, which is where you put our good buddy Nate Shelley in a room, see what happens.” Rebecca exhales tragically. He chuckles. “Ah, you liked that one, didn’t you?”
“I’m beside myself,” she deadpans.
“You know, I can never tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Me either,” she says goofily into his shoulder.
He laughs. She basks.
But the shadow falls again.
“I just keep hopin’ they’ll call it off.” Ted holds up his phone to her. It’s open to his text chain with Beard. “But look. Nothing.”
Sure enough, the last text exchange is “Any pre-wedding 2.0 jitters?” from Ted, followed by a gif from Beard of Donald Duck with hearts in his eyes and his weird little duck wing-hands clasped at his chest.
Well. That seems decisive.
“They are already married,” she reminds Ted gently. “So I’m not sure there’s much to call off.”
“Yeah,” Ted sighs.
Rebecca rubs his shoulder.
“You think if I yelled ‘I object!’ in the middle of the ceremony, it’d have any legal standing?”
Rebecca gives him a sympathetic frown. “Probably not.”
“Man.” Ted shakes his head. “You guys do things weird over here.”
***
“I always thought it would fizzle out, y’know?” Ted says later. They’re on either side of her kitchen island, Rebecca nursing a mug of tea while they improvise a makeshift brunch with whatever’s in the fridge.
“I know,” Rebecca says. She helps herself to one of the slightly stale biscuits Ted brought over on the plane, devouring it in a few inelegant bites. They taste a bit different from Kansas, some odd unpinpointable variation between US and UK baking, but love’s still the unmistakable central ingredient. That and obscene amounts of butter and sugar.
“I know you didn’t know him in the pre-Jane era, but Beard, he was the king of stuff fizzling out. So I figured, just let this thing run its course, then he’d get back to normal. Well. Beard normal.”
“Relative term,” Rebecca agrees.
“I just didn’t expect … commitment. Procreation.”
“That does often sneak up on people. Though usually it’s the two people who are having sex.”
Ted stares woefully at the grapefruit in his hand, like a citrus-happy Hamlet. “Am I a bad friend?”
“Of course not.” Rebecca snatches the grapefruit from him and gets to slicing it open.
“I really got caught up in my own stuff for a while. I should’ve been more there for him. Checkin’ in instead of leaving him to it.”
“Ted.” Rebecca places the half-grapefruit on a plate in front of him. “You can’t actually take care of everyone. It’s literally impossible.”
“Right,” he says, sprinkling it with sugar. “Yeah. I know that. Me and Doc Sharon, we made some progress on that. I guess this is what you’d call a backslide.”
“Sometimes, even when you’re with the wrong person – especially when you’re with the wrong person – you just don’t want to hear it. No matter how wise the advice. Take it from someone who knows.”
“Right.” He frowns. She imagines kissing his rumpled brow. Then a mischievous gleam enters his eyes. “Wait. You don’t mean me, right?”
“Ha ha,” she groans, reaching across the island to give him a fond little swat.
***
Beard and Jane’s one-year vow renewal might not be an event that everyone’s entirely on board with, but everyone’s certainly going to be there.
Well, almost everyone. Rebecca’s swapped dates. And Ted missed the last one. He still staunchly refuses to believe it happened at Stonehenge at sunrise, no matter how many times everybody tells him that was how it went down. In Ted’s defense, everybody’s pictures not turning out on their phones had been pretty eerie.
The vow renewal isn’t at Stonehenge, thank God. Rebecca doesn’t think she could’ve made it through another one of those. This time, they’re gathering at the Crown & Anchor. It surprises her that Jane went for it. She seems to have a particular fondness for pulling Beard away from his friends and work family whenever possible.
Of course, Ted’s not the only new guest in attendance. Beard and Jane’s baby daughter Theodosia will be there. Maybe motherhood is softening Jane. (It’s certainly catapulting Beard to new heights of sensitivity.) Rebecca doesn’t see enough of her to know, and honestly hasn’t wanted to investigate. Jane is nothing like Rupert — Rebecca had written her off as a harmless weirdo for years — but the tension in the air whenever she and Beard are together is familiar enough that Rebecca would rather excuse herself from witnessing it. Give her Beard with Theo strapped to his chest in a baby bjorn, and she’ll happily hang out for hours. But Jane, she hasn’t quite reconciled herself to.
So maybe she isn’t feeling her most generous about this event.
“Hey, uh,” Ted says, fiddling with his tie, when she steps out of the walk-in closet, “feel free to call me crazy if I’m off-base on this, but aren’t you not s’posed to wear white to a wedding?”
“It’s not white,” Rebecca corrects him. “It’s cream.”
“Not sure I’d risk it with this particular bride.”
“And it’s not a wedding. It’s a vow renewal.”
“You sure are hopped up on the technicalities today, boss.”
“She never gave me my fucking blazer back,” Rebecca says, “and it’s been a nasty year of her killing Beard’s spirit, and that’s killing your spirit. So cream it is.”
“Well, you look incredible.” Ted gives her a double thumbs up. “It’s a great look to be murdered by Jane in.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca says. She meets her own eyes in the mirror and does a little snarl. “She can try.”
Ted shivers theatrically.
***
“Do you remember when they first met?” Ted asks in the car on the way there.
Rebeca frowns thoughtfully. “He brought her to the gala, didn’t he? Met her at the gala? Something?”
“Did he? Maybe.”
It feels good, that they’ve known each other long enough that their shared details are getting fuzzy. Their relationship might be new, in the romantic sense, but it’s got a few years in, too. It feels old, settled. Surer than her marriage ever did.
“I feel like it had somethin’ to do with chess,” Ted goes on. “Was the gala theme chess that year?”
“Yes, Ted,” Rebecca says. “Our Benefit for Underprivileged Children theme was chess.”
“Oh, good. Kids love chess.”
Rebecca snorts.
“Point is, it drives me batty, that I wasn’t there to intervene at the pivotal moment. Maybe I could’ve steered him in the direction of a nice old rich lady lookin’ for companionship and intellectual stimulation. His romantic ideal’s always been Harold and Maude, y’know.”
“Sorry you were too busy consoling neurotic, tear-streaked divorcees in dark alleys.”
“Oh, come on, now. Don’t make me sound like some kinda emotional support floozy. It was just the one divorcee.”
She rolls her eyes happily.
“And she looked stunning,” Ted adds.
“Oh?”
“I never saw prettier tear streaks.”
“Not even on Robert Smith?”
“No, ma’am.”
She smirks. “High praise.”
Ted stares out the window. “We haven’t kept in touch as well as I wish we had. I mean, missing his wedding? Hoo boy. That’s a bad look. You know he was right by my side at my wedding.”
“Your bad goatee savior. I remember.”
“Sucks not to have been able to return the favor.”
“He understood. It was so spur of the moment. Of course it was, the two of them. And that was a big day for Henry – his game.”
“Thing is,” Ted says with a sigh, “I know going back was right.” She catches it, ‘back’ and not ‘home’, and wishes she hadn’t. She’s trying to be very mature and understanding about the fact that her partner needs to live in Kansas. She usually manages. “And it was. Livin’ in the same place as Henry, being there for him on a daily basis – that’s the right thing. But it didn’t totally hit me just how bad it would feel to leave my Richmond folks behind. It seemed like the obvious move, like everyone would be all right. Like I would, too. But it’s been real tough, being away. Even knowing everyone here’s grownups – well, are any of us ever really grown up? You’re never old enough to stop needin’ each other.”
“I know,” she says, meaning it.
Ted lets out a rueful laugh. “I mean, I almost lost you to a beautiful Dutch Mr. Clean. What’s that about?”
“But you didn’t, though,” Rebecca reminds him.
“But pretty close.”
“Yeah. Pretty close.”
He reaches for her hand and kisses it.
***
The Crown & Anchor is decked out in full folkloric splendor. The tables have been moved to one side of the pub, the chairs arranged into rows. There’s an ivy-covered wedding arch made of very witchy-looking branches. It screams ‘ritual sacrifice,’ which wouldn’t be the most shocking plot twist at a Jane and Beard affair.
Behind the bar, Mae is wearing a flower crown and radiating sullenness when Rebecca catches her eye. Rebecca gives her a sympathetic smile. Mae retaliates by passing a few flower crowns across the counter. “Mandatory dress code, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, goody,” Ted says, with a disquieting lack of sarcasm.
He does look pretty marvelous in a flower crown. Rebecca tries not to look too obnoxiously in love as he puts hers on for her and adjusts it, smoothing tendrils of her hair. No one likes a show-off.
Passing by, a very floral Keeley declares, “Okay, you two are so fucking cute, I’m going to vomit sparkles and rainbows any second.”
“And we’ll pop ya over to hospital right after,” Ted replies brightly. “Because those are some unusual symptoms.”
“Usually I’d agree,” Keeley says, “but come on now. How else is someone supposed to react to this dream-come-true situation? Oh! You two.” She puts her hands to her heart.
“Where are your boys?” Rebecca asks.
“Oh, they’re around, being a pair of fit idiots. Old news. Who cares about them when this is happening?”
“You’re an angel,” Rebecca says, laughing as Keeley takes turns hugging each of them. “But we are at somebody else’s celebration of love. Best keep it classy.”
“Ah right. Classy. Because we all love Beard and Jane and can’t wait for another year of that whole marital situation.” Keeley bites her lip. “How convincing was that?”
“Should I lie to spare your feelings?” Rebecca asks.
“Yes please.”
“It was perfect.”
“Oh, good. Fun day! Fun!” Keeley waves her arms, like it might force some authentic enthusiasm into the air.
“Fun!” Rebecca copies her.
Ted doesn’t join in. It’s a sign of how serious this is for him. He usually can’t resist an excited arm wave party.
Once Keeley’s moved on in the crowd – only after an abundance of air kisses – Rebecca asks Ted under her breath, “Are we a group of shit friends if we all just keep pretending to be fine with this?”
“See,” Ted mutters, “now you’re gettin’ it.”
***
Rebecca and Ted are tasked with keeping an eye on baby Theo during the ceremony. Both of them are delighted. Ted is, unsurprisingly, perfect at babies, committing to a game of peekaboo like their lives depend on it and throwing in the occasional “Dear Theodosia” riff from Hamilton. Rebecca bounces Theo on her lap, cherishing the cozy weight of her and the way she giggles at Ted’s antics.
It’s impossible not to ache a little that she hadn’t met him twenty years ago, even though technically she knows that she wouldn’t have had the sense to appreciate him for all he was back then. It’s the right time for them, here, now. And besides, it’s hard to imagine something more fantastic than getting to do this, be auntie and uncle to the most beautiful little lady around. It brings her the same contented glow as playing board games with Henry at Ted’s kitchen table in Kansas. Or, even further back, delivering Christmas gifts together in silly hats, making local kids smile. She likes that they have a warmth together that seems to turn outward, boundless and contagious.
It’s so different from what it was like with Rupert. Rupert had always been so fucking miserly with his affection, and horribly awkward with babies, the only demographic he couldn’t win over with banter and a roguish smile. More than once, he’d handed her some friend or acquaintance’s baby after a few obligatory seconds of pretending to admire them. ‘I’m hopeless at this stuff, hopeless. The wife can’t get enough, though.’ She’d always been happy to open her arms. A brief taste of the life she’d yearned for with him. The life she’d been spared.
Good fucking riddance, she thinks, watching Ted make silly faces at Theo. Theo reaches for his mustache, enchanted.
***
Their shenanigans with the baby only end when the lights dim and Celtic music starts pouring through the room.
“Here we go, Miss Theo,” Ted whispers.
“Oh Christ,” Rebecca says, glancing around. “We are going to be ritually sacrificed, aren’t we?”
Jane walks down the aisle – that is to say, across the pub – to Loreena McKennitt, dressed like some sort of vicious forest nymph in deep green. No need for Ted to have worried about cream, then. You can take a girl out of Stonehenge, Rebecca supposes. Ted’s mouth twitches very slightly at the sight of Jane, but the gloomy set of his face comes back once she and Beard are standing at the ivy-covered wedding arch together.
There’s no officiant involved; something about Jane and Beard being the ones to define their own relationship, with no need for conventional outside forces. Rebecca’s all for defying convention, but in this particular situation, the empty space where a person would usually be doesn’t instill much confidence.
Beard looks sort of sweetly nervous. A bit green, to match Jane’s dress. Rebecca’s heart flops.
“There’s Daddy,” she murmurs to Theo.
Beard casts a wary glance at the crowd. Rebecca waves Theo’s hand. That seems to hearten him. He clears his throat.
“Jane Payne,” he says, “Ursula K. LeGuin once wrote, ‘Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; re-made all the time, made new.’”
Rebecca looks at Ted. He sneaks her a smile, in spite of everything.
“This is my vow: I love you,” Beard continues. “I’ll make it new every day of our lives.”
Everyone awws.
“Beautiful!” sniffles Dani Rojas.
“Willis Payne-Beard,” Jane says, “I love you. You know that. You’re my bread, and I’ll need you forever.”
“Respect,” Ted mutters begrudgingly. Rebecca pats his thigh.
“But as we all know,” Jane continues, “monogamy isn’t a sustainable relationship model, especially in the modern-day romantic landscape of infinite choice.”
There’s a collective shocked murmur from the crowd. Rebecca’s among them. Ted stays silent, watching Jane with wary eyes.
“Oi!” Jamie pipes up. “Hear her out.”
Keeley and Roy swat him in unison.
Rebecca looks at Ted. He’s so tense she can feel it in her own body.
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do this,” Beard mutters.
“If not now, when?” Jane asks, waving an arm imploringly to the crowd.
“Uh, I don’t know. Some time without a huge audience?”
“The audience is the point,” Jane hisses to Beard’s sinking face. Louder, she announces, “After much stimulating debate over the past few months, we’ve decided to open up the relationship. And we’re excited to see what new dimensions the practice of ethical non-monogamy brings to our happy family.”
“Um,” Beard says miserably. “All right. That … I guess.”
“Nah,” Jamie half-stands to announce. “I take it back. Don’t seem on the up-and-up.”
He takes a bow and sits back down. Roy claps him on one shoulder approvingly. Keeley pats the other.
“Some of you might be too narrow-minded to accept the next stage in our marriage,” Jane goes on. “That doesn’t surprise me. Beard’s friends have always been a conventional lot. That’s why we’re having another vow renewal slash relationship status announcement with my social circle next weekend at Stonehenge.”
“Hey,” Jamie protests, “you don’t lecture me about narrow-minded, lady! I’m a polyamory genius. And what about Dani back there? He brings two dates to everything, and they’re always having a ball.”
“You say ‘ethical non-monogamy,’” Dani says gravely to Jane. “I don’t think you know what it means.”
“Jesus, that’s good,” Jamie says, turning back to look at Dani. “Did you make that up just now?”
“Yes,” Dani says somberly.
“Chills, mate,” Jamie says.
“I told you,” Jane says to Beard. “I told you your friends weren’t mature enough for this.”
“I don’t know if that’s the issue,” Beard mutters.
“I do,” Jane says coolly. “It is.”
Having such a depressing ‘I do’ at a vow renewal is the thing that finally spurs Ted into action. He leaps out of his chair. “I object!”
Rebecca stands up too, for solidarity. She balances Theo on her hip.
“We’ll be taking no input from long-distance fairweather friends at this time,” Jane huffs.
“Oh, fuck off!” Rebecca barks.
“Take that back,” Beard says quietly.
“Damn it,” Rebecca says, cringing, “sorry. Baby ears. I didn’t think–”
“Not you,” Beard says. He rests his gaze on his wife. “You.”
“Not this again,” Jane groans. “Not fucking Ted.”
Rebecca presses her free hand over one of Theo’s ears. That’s got to count for something. She thinks Ted would usually take the other one, but just now he’s watching Beard and Jane, wretched and rapt.
“He’s my best friend,” Beard says. “You know that. Don’t go throwing around the f-word.”
“Again, I’m so sorry–” Rebecca starts.
“Fairweather,” Beard says, not looking away from Jane.
“He looks fairweather to me,” Jane says. “You force me to name our child after this person, and then he’s not even there for the fertility ritual, the wedding, the baby shower, the forest almost-birth, the hospital actual-birth, anything!”
“Theodosia was the perfect crossroads where Greek goddess names and T-H-E-O names met! We agreed on that.”
“Well, maybe I un-agree on it. Maybe I’ve been thinking she looks more like an Artemis.”
Theo fusses.
“Oh, darling,” Rebecca coos. “This is all just silly. Aren’t they being silly? Don’t you worry about your silly, silly parents.”
Meanwhile, Ted’s watching Beard and Jane bicker with a furrowed brow. Rebecca spots the exact moment when he makes his decision.
“Be right back, honeybunch,” he tells Rebecca. “Gotta do something stupid.”
“Damned right you do.”
Ted stalks up to the wedding arch and loops his arm through Beard’s.
“Jane,” he says, “I regret to inform you that I’m stealin’ your man.”
“What a fucking shock,” Jane scowls. “You know what? I tried. I really did with you people.”
“You ever notice how nobody ever says ‘You people’ in a positive sense?” Ted muses. “Surefire way to bring down the vibe.”
“Oh, well, so sorry to have offended the cowboy philosopher.” Jane waves her hands mockingly.
“Cowboy philosopher,” Ted repeats with a grin. “That’s cool. I’m gonna hold onto that, if you don’t mind.”
“This man is a genius, you know,” Jane says, pointing at Beard. “This man is capable of defying convention and really, truly fucking doing something with that intellect. This man is, and I quite literally mean this, one in a million.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted says with a somber nod. “I know.”
“If only,” Jane growls, “he could shake off your dead fucking weight and open his mind beyond the power of friendship and football.”
“Yeesh.” Ted flinches. “I liked it better when you were callin’ me a cowboy.”
Jane whirls over to Beard. “Him or me.”
“Come on,” Beard says, looking at the floor.
“Choose.”
“Him,” Beard says, “obviously.” He looks miserable about it.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Ted says. The affable edge to his voice is gone; he just sounds sad and serious. “I swear.”
Jane stares at them for a long, fraught moment.
“Fuck you too, Willis,” she declares, and turns away. She throws her very twig-heavy bouquet into the crowd. It bounces off Jamie’s head.
“Why’s she got it out for me?” Jamie says woefully. “It’s because I’m living the life she wants, isn’t it?”
Jane storms toward Rebecca.
“Do you want, um–” Rebecca holds Theo the tiniest bit forward, sincerely hoping Jane won’t take her up on it.
Jane stops, her gaze hanging painfully on Theo for a moment.
“I can’t right now,” she says then. “Mummy can’t right now, love. Later. I need a drink.”
And with that, she storms out of the pub, her fantastical skirts whirling behind her. Rebecca holds Theo closer. Theo seems remarkably unfazed by it, preoccupied by fiddling with Rebecca’s necklace.
A familiar scene at home, maybe: Mum storming out. God, that’s bleak.
“A drink, hmm? Well, thank fuck it wasn’t one of mine,” Mae says from behind the bar.
There’s an awkward moment where everyone clearly wants to be cheering, but can’t quite commit to celebrating an unhinged woman abandoning her vow renewal and baby so far into the 2020s. There would be a distinctly 90s-movie flavor to that move. Instead, there’s a collective low hum of noncommittal mumbling.
“Hey, everybody,” Keeley says, ever the branding genius. “Change of plans! This is now Ted and Beard’s best mates reunion shindig! It’s great, isn’t it - seeing them together again? Music, please, and let’s keep the drinks flowing!”
Everyone bursts into very relieved applause.
Beard tears up. Ted takes a handkerchief out of his suit jacket and offers it. Rebecca savors the bone-deep bliss of being wonderfully, totally his.
***
Beard looks a little steadier with Theo back in his arms. He sits alone at a table, talking very seriously to his daughter in long sentences while she stares fixedly at him. Rebecca can’t shake the strange suspicion that she’s comprehending everything he’s saying.
“Hey, hon,” Ted says, “I think I gotta take this.”
“You’ve absolutely fucking got to take this, hon,” Rebecca replies. “Go, go.”
He kisses her cheek, then calls, “Diamond Dogs emergency meeting?”
There’s a lot of somber howling in response. Bless these fucking idiots.
Though it might be more tactful to go join Keeley across the pub, Rebecca hovers around to eavesdrop. She can’t help but be curious about one of these feelings sessions, especially in such dire circumstances.
The boys all settle down together at Beard’s table in the corner. Rebecca peeks at them. They make quite the sight, all sad faces and flower crowns.
“Marriage is hard,” Leslie says sagely.
“Yeah?” Beard asks, his voice a pitiful wisp.
“Let me rephrase that,” says Leslie. “Marriage is impossible. When it’s to Jane.”
“It’s a real blow,” Nate says gently, “but you’ll recover. Take it from me, you can come back from anything. It might hurt now, but it’ll be for the best in the long run. And one day, you’ll find the one who’s right for you.”
“I have,” Beard says. “It’s her.”
“It’s not,” Nate insists.
“How can you tell?”
“Because it should be easy.”
Beard sniffs. “It’s easy with Jade?”
“Easier every day,” Nate says with a smile. “First year of marriage, and still I can honestly say that.”
Beard looks to Leslie. “And Julie?”
“Walking on clouds every day of my life,” Leslie says. Once a greeting card, always a greeting card. “In increasingly uncool shoes these days, but even so.”
It’s Roy’s turn. “And Keeley?”
Roy nods solemnly.
“And – is there a Jamie component to the situation?”
Everyone perks up, momentarily interested.
“Let’s focus on you,” Roy grunts.
God, even men with healthy communication habits are helpless. Rebecca’s had the full scoop on the Roy/Keeley/Jamie situation for ages.
“And you?” Beard looks to Trent.
“I’m not seeing anyone seriously right now,” Trent says. “It’s not so bad, actually. A hell of a lot more pleasant than being with the wrong person. No mind games or walking on eggshells. Nearly enough time to read.”
Beard looks genuinely touched. “I’ll remember that.”
Trent smiles at him. “Glad to hear it.”
Last, Beard looks at Ted.
Rebecca supposes Beard must know more than anyone that it wasn’t always easy for Ted. That things with Michelle got brittle and bleak enough to send them four thousand miles across the globe.
“Is it easy, Ted?” Beard asks.
Ted looks torn. Rebecca knows the last thing he wants is to rub his happiness in Beard’s face.
“Is it?” Beard pushes softly. And then: “It’s okay.”
“Like Sunday morning,” says Ted after a moment. “Heck, throw Monday in there too. A Monday morning with Rebecca Welton, that’s better than a Sunday with anyone else.”
Rebecca smiles to herself.
“I’m glad you’re happy, bud,” says Beard.
“I wish you were happy, bud. But hey. You’ve got baby Theo here. And that means that no matter how funky y’all’s thing got, it was always meant to be. And whatever it’ll be from now on, well – you’ve got this precious kid of yours in the center. Keep your eye on her, and you’ll find your way.”
Beard sniffles. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“We all do,” Nate says.
“It’s no big deal, guys,” Beard says morosely. “This is our fifty-third breakup. We’ll probably be back together by the end of the month.”
Ted pats his shoulder. “I sincerely hope not, Willis. Diamond Dogs? Beard Deserves Better Howl on three? One … two … Ow ow owwwww!”
The Diamond Dogs howl soulfully along. The howl catches on – which, to be fair, is a general characteristic of howls – and soon the pub is full of howling from all sides. Rebecca rolls her eyes, smiling, and joins in.
Beard, the last holdout, looks into baby Theo’s eyes and lets out a tiny howl. She laughs and grabs his face, happy as can be.
***
It turns into a pretty decent party. The flower crowns get set aside. (Well, most of them. Not Keeley’s. Keeley actually acquires a few more.) The wedding arch is banished outside, leaving pedestrians to stare in confusion as they make their way past.
Rebecca steps outside for some air while Ted, Beard, and Theo bust a move on the dance floor to “Good Vibrations”. Even though it’s long gone now, she’s having a hard time totally shaking off the tension from what happened before.
She knows that no one could have dissuaded her from marrying Rupert; Sassy certainly tried. And she’s made it through – a better person, maybe, than she might’ve been otherwise. Stronger, kinder. Then again, maybe that’s just the sort of thing you tell yourself to make all your wasted years of suffering worth it.
It’s hard not to daydream about going back in time, sprinting down the aisle to save her younger self. Shouting I object!.
Then again, without Rupert, she would have never found Ted. There’s a mindfuck if ever there was one.
She stares at the arch. There’s a “J + B” carved into the branch at the center, with a small, crooked heart underneath it.
Fuck, love is brutal.
Until it isn’t.
“Snappin’ mental pics for your Pinterest?” says Ted behind her.
“Oh, yes,” Rebecca says, turning around. “I’ve always wanted a cursed Wicker Man wedding arch.”
“Nothin’ says romance like KILLING ME WON’T BRING BACK YOUR GOD DAMN HONEY!”
Rebecca stares at him, enjoying how he enjoys her judgy face.
“Oh,” Ted says, pulling her into his arms. “Were you not talking about the Nic Cage one?”
Sinking gladly into his embrace, Rebecca says, “Rule of thumb: I’m never talking about Nic Cage.”
“Moonstruck?”
“All right,” she relents. “Sometimes.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“Very strange man, though. I’ve been invited to his island a few times. Never took him up on it.”
“What?? You didn’t go to Nic Cage Island?? There’s probably dinosaurs there!”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Ah, you could never.” He pulls her closer. “How you holdin’ up, baby?”
“All good.” She looks up at the darkening sky. “It’s turned into a nice night, hasn’t it?”
His mustache tickles her ear. “Oklahoma?”
She exhales. “That was fucking grim.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Yes, it was. Nice out here, though.”
They sway back and forth, slightly slow dancing, even though all they’ve got to go off is the thumping bass of the music inside and the faint sound of a busker down the road.
“I needed a breather,” she admits.
“Weddings, huh?”
She lets out a terse laugh. “Fuck ‘em.”
“Second weddings, though,” Ted muses. “Maybe there’s somethin’ to that.”
“Based on today, or …?”
“Pure speculation.”
Her stomach flutters pleasantly. “Is that a proposal?”
“Heck no. When it’s a proposal, you’ll know. Because of the flash mob, and all the confetti. And doves, just doves everywhere–”
“Jesus,” she laughs.
He chuckles. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”
“When, hmm?”
“What’s that?”
“‘When it’s a proposal’?”
“You got me,” he says, pulling back to meet her eyes. “I don’t think this is goin’ anywhere. Do you?”
She shakes her head, caught like she always is in the sweet directness of his gaze. “I don’t.”
They kiss, lingering and fond, then sink back into each other’s arms.
“Full disclosure,” Ted murmurs into her ear, “I told Beard him and Theo could crash at yours tonight if it’s cool with you. But only if he adheres to a strict no-red-undies policy. That fella’s keepin’ his trousers on.”
“That sounds perfect.” She still hasn’t tired of filling her once-empty house with as many loved ones as possible. Especially when they need it most.
“It does? Phew, that’s a relief. Wasn’t sure if I was overstepping. I just can’t take it when he does the sad Eeyore eyes.”
Rebecca pulls away this time so she can look at him. “You’re not going to overstep.”
He looks a little surprised in a way that catches in her chest. “Oh yeah?”
Of course he isn’t. He can’t. Their lives have become far too full of each other for that. These past months have been hard – a new level of logistical hell, all jetlag and longing and disappointment and more longing and her mother’s relentless paranoia that she’s going to lose her only daughter to the state of Kansas.
But they’ve been easy, too. Easier than anything before.
“Ted Lasso,” she says, “what’s mine is yours.”
He grins, a slow lovely bit of sunshine. “Well, ditto, Rebecca Welton.”
She pulls him in again, smiling into his neck.
“Think they’re missin’ us inside?” he muses after a moment of quiet swaying.
“Oh, God. Probably. I didn’t mean to hide out here so long.”
“Yeah. They’ve gotta be wondering where you got off to by now, you bein’ the boss of the party and all that.”
She scoffs lovingly. “Please.”
“What?”
“You and I both know I can’t hope to match those inimitable dance moves, Coach Lasso.”
“Ah, I dunno. I think you can do anything with enough practice. If you’re into some lessons–”
“I’m not,” she protests, laughing.
“–just know the offer’s always on the table.” He glances back at the pub.
“Shall we head back in, then?” she asks, resigning herself to a slightly less good good time.
“Probably should.”
He lets go of her, and they start toward the door together. Then he turns abruptly and catches her hand again, making her laugh in surprise. He pulls her in, slow dance close. Conspiratorially, he says, “Hey. Let’s stay out here a little longer anyway. Just the two of us.”
“Let’s,” she agrees as they settle in, cheek to cheek. “I say we’ve earned it.”
“Earned it, huh?”
She closes her eyes, luxuriating. “Mmhmm.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ted says. She can hear his smile. “Yeah, I like that.”