Epilogue
RYE
O ne month later…
“I never thought this day would come,” Lemon says as she places a boutonniere on Cash’s suit coat. My cousin is my best man today.
“You’re just jealous your brother's getting married before you,” Cash teases.
I grunt. “Hey, don't give her too hard a time. She's been pulling up all the slack for me this last year. Turns out my grumpy-ass mood was turning away business and she kept having to chase clients back.”
Cash chuckles. “Yeah, your dad has good things to say about you, Lem.”
Lemon smiles. “Well, considering I’m practically running this family's construction site company, I should get some more credit.”
I laugh. “I just gave you a compliment, Lemon. No one's doubting what you're doing for the family. You're in that office 70 hours a week, I swear.”
“Yeah, trying to book you boys more jobs. Dad needs to retire,” Lemon says. “We need more men on the crew. What about you, Cash? You ever think of working for my father full-time? I know you've been helping out while Rye and Prairie were?—”
Cash cracks up. “What were Rye and Prairie doing, Lemon?”
She sputters before rolling her eyes.
Prairie and I have been doing nothing but having fun getting to know each other. Making sure we’re comfortable with one another in every way imaginable. Heart, soul, skin. Now we're getting married.
Cash shakes his head. “I had no problem pitching in when your dad needed some help on his crew. But I belong over on the ranch.”
“Dad appreciated having you around,” I tell him.
“It was fun hanging around you fancy boys from Home, but I got horses to break, and I got cattle to feed,” Cash says with a laugh.
“You think you’ll ever find yourself a wife on that ranch?” Lemon asks.
Cash tosses it right back at her. “Probably the same time you find yourself a husband in that office, tied to a desk.”
“You’re taking next week off for your birthday, right, Lemon?” I say. “Going to Stout Lake?”
Cash cracks up, pressing a hand to his chest. “You really are going fishing for a man, aren't you?”
She shoves Cash away, wagging a finger at him. “Don't you get started. I'm not going to the lake for a man. I'm going for a week of rest and relaxation for my birthday. I'm not going to work. I'm not going to answer my phone. And I am not going to talk to any men.”
Lemon walks off to report on Cash and me being Rough and Rowdy as usual.
I turn to Cash. “Thanks for being here today.”
He grins. “Thanks for asking me to be your best man. Your brothers mad?”
“You and I grew up together. Since before we were in diapers. It seemed right.”
Cash pauses, his eyes meeting mine. I know our memories are not all fucking around and causing good trouble. There have been hard times too, heartbreaking ones. “You stood by my side at my ma’s funeral; seems right I stand next you now, Rye.”
“Damn,” I say, choking up. “I love you, man.”
Cash shakes his head, grinning. “I can't believe you're really getting hitched. But Prairie, she seems happy. You both do,” he tells me.
“I've never been happier.”
“Hell,” Cash says, “you really are a changed man.”
I laugh as my brothers all join us in my old bedroom at the family house, bringing in a bottle of whiskey.
“We thought we needed a toast,” Bartlett says. “To the groom!”
“Cheers to that,” I say, laughing.
“Cash getting married next?” Bartlett teases as Cash’s Rowdy brothers pile into my bedroom. It's getting mighty full. But none of us mind.
The ten of us boys grew up together, roughhousing and getting rowdy in this room and down this hallway.
I know, of course, if I get this suit too wrinkled Prairie will have something to say about it. But we pass that bottle of whiskey around as we start shooting the shit. Sitting on my old twin bed and laughing about the days gone by.
Soon enough, though, my mother is in the doorway. “You Rowdy boys and you Rough boys need to get downstairs. There's a wedding to be had. If your mother were here,” she says to Cash and his brothers, Williams, Carter, Nelson and Jennings, but then Mom starts to cry. “Well, if your mother were here, she would just be so happy. You all look so handsome.”
“Mom,” Graham says, “you can't cry right now.”
“Yeah, Auntie Annie,” Jennings says. “You can't cry at a wedding.”
Cash chuckles though. “Jennings, I think that's exactly what you do at a wedding. At least that's what the women folk do.”
“The women folk?” My mother shakes her head. “You sure are country boys, aren't you lot?”
“Like I said,” Cash stands taller, removing his cowboy hat and giving his auntie a half smile, “trying to make my mother proud.”
My mom beams. “Well, you all do look handsome. And your mother would be more than proud.”
Their mom, Aunt Dolly, was my mother's best friend. She died years ago and we all miss her sorely. My mother, though, at times like this, I know she misses her more than ever.
I wrap my arms around my mother and I kiss her cheek. “Thank you for everything you did to make this wedding happen,” I say to her. “I know you've been cleaning the house and baking up a storm for days making sure everything was perfect.”
“There's nothing I wouldn't do for that girl. I don't think there's a sweeter thing in this whole world.”
Abby grins as she passes us in the hallway. “I heard that, Annie! You know, I'm your first daughter-in-law. I’d think you'd be a little bit sweeter to me. All things considered.” My mom laughs, watching as Abby chases down a wild-haired five-year-old. “Plum, I am on strict orders to braid your hair before the wedding starts!”
I turn back to Mom as the Rough and Rowdy boys all file downstairs to where the wedding ceremony is taking place.
Alone, I say to her, “I mean it, Mom, thank you. Prairie and I?—”
“I know, son. You've had a hard time. And Prairie needs us all in her corner.”
Mom's right. Prairie has had a hard transition into the real world. She has a therapist, anxiety medication, and we quickly realized a job would be too much for her right now. Maybe one day, but right now she just needs to recover and recuperate.
Heal from all the pain she's endured.
My job, aside from working for my father, is to be the man she needs.
“Go easy on yourself, Rye. You two are going to make mistakes as husband and wife. You are going to have good days and bad, but the most important thing is that, at the end of the day, you are still in it together.”
“All my life you told me to be rough. And now you're telling me to be easy?”
“Yes, I am,” Mom says. “I know you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. But right now, just smile and have fun. And take that wife of yours on your crazy honeymoon to Iceland and think about the big wide world out there. Neither you nor Prairie have ever left home or gone far from it. So go spread your wings, and then come back here for Sunday dinner. You understand?”
Our wedding is small and intimate. It's just our family and a few select friends. We didn't want any more people because, well, Prairie doesn't like crowds, and considering all the television interview requests and the magazines that have asked for her face to be on the covers, she's more determined than ever to avoid public appearances.
She likes to stick to ourselves, which, considering sticking to ourselves oftentimes means saying in the bedroom in our cabin, I'm fine with that.
And today I'm grateful for this small wedding because this moment seems intimate and special. And one I'm not ready to share with anyone else.
Turns out Abby can play the piano and she's sitting in the corner playing some tunes as my wife-to-be walks down that big old staircase toward me with a smile on her face that is big and beautiful.
Her eyes light up this whole room. She’s wearing a white dress that falls to the floor. Fig made it just for her with my mom’s help. It’s lacy and lovely. Delicate just like her.
She has a yellow ribbon tied at her waist and I got her yellow diamond earrings to match the yellow diamond on her engagement ring.
Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, and she has a veil on that I’m ready to pull away so I can kiss those lips of hers once we’re pronounced husband and wife.
She steps towards me, and I take her hand in mine.
Pastor Andy is here to do the honors.
As he leads us to the vows, tears are in both of our eyes. But hell, when I look around, I realize it's not just the women folk crying, everyone is because there's something special about the moment. About the day.
Falling in love at first sight is one thing. The only thing.
“I love you,” Prairie tells me, “and I will love you from this day forward, for all the days of our lives…”
I repeat the words after her, and when Pastor Andy tells me to kiss her, I don't hesitate. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her tight, hard, deep.
Surely, I could keep on going but my family starts hooting and hollering and hell, I think those are mostly my Rowdy cousins, and I laugh.
I lift her up in my arms and spin her around in a circle. “I love you,” I tell her. “I'll love you forever.”
“That's a deal, right?” she asks.
I nod. “That's a deal, Prairie Rough.”