Megan glanced down at her watch. “Will you keep an eye on Mason for me while I go to confession real quick?”
Aidan’s eyes widened as he took in the sleeping infant in the carrier. “Um, Meg, I don’t—“
“Oh come on. He’s dead to the world, and you’ll be fine. Besides, you’re his godfather.”
“Yes, a position I’m wishing I hadn’t agreed to.”
Megan swept her hands to her hips. “I need to go to confession before I stand at the altar with my son, Ankle. Are you really going to tell me no?”
“Fine, fine. Go on.”
“Thank you,” she said, before kissing him on the cheek. Her heels clicked down the aisle. It hadn’t been a full minute after Megan disappeared into one of the confessionals that Mason began to stir in his carrier. Leaning over, Aidan rocked him a little, hoping to avert a crisis. But when the baby’s tiny face crumpled, Aidan muttered, “Oh shit.”
A wail erupted from Mason’s lips that echoed throughout the church. “Hey Little Man, don’t do that.” He rocked the carrier faster, which just seemed to piss Mason off more.
“You really should pick him up when he’s crying like that,” a voice said over his shoulder. He glanced back to see his sister, Becky’s, three sons staring skeptically at him. From eleven year old, Percy’s, exasperated expression, Aidan knew it had been him giving the advice.
“Fine,” Aidan grumbled. He bent over and gently slid his hands underneath Mason’s writhing body. Already outfitted in his Christening gown, Aidan found it hard to grab onto more than just lace in his hands, especially since he was worried about hurting him. Finally, he rescued Mason from his baby carrier hell. Aidan propped him on his shoulder and gave him a few reassuring pats. “All right, Little Man. You’re free. Give it a rest with the crying,” he said.
His thirteen year old nephew, John, snorted. “Wow, Megan must’ve been smoking something when she chose you as godfather.”
Aidan scowled at John over Mason’s head. “For your information, I was the only one she wanted for the job.”
“Give him his passie,” five year old Georgie suggested.
Aidan furrowed his blonde brows. “His what?”
“Dude, you gotta be kidding,” John said. He leaned over Aidan and grabbed Mason’s diaper bag. Digging inside, he pulled out a pacifier and waved it at Aidan before sticking it in Mason’s wide-open mouth. Immediately, the baby calmed down.
With a sigh of relief, Aidan’s gaze swept over the three boys. All three wore khaki pants, white button down shirts, red ties, and blue blazers. He shook his head and grinned. “Nice get-ups. You could pass for a boy band like the Osmond’s or something.”
“The who?” Percy asked.
“Never mind,” he mumbled. Glancing past the boys, he sighed with relief at the sight of Megan coming out of the confessional. He was more than ready to hand Mason back over to her.
She grinned at him. “Couldn’t resist Mason’s charms?”
“Ha, very funny.”
“Yeah, I heard him all the way in the confessional.” She reached over and took Mason from him. Nestling the baby close to her chest, she then smiled at Aidan. “You know, you looked like a natural holding him.”
Aidan opened his mouth to protest, but John’s snickering interrupted him. “Seriously? He could barely get Mason out of the carrier, not to mention he had no idea what a pacifier was.”
“He can always learn,” Megan argued.
“Yeah, don’t hold your breath on that one,” Aidan replied.
It was then that the priest came striding up to them. “Miss McKenzie, we’re ready to begin.”
Megan nodded. “John, Percy, Georgie—go run and tell the others it’s time.”
“Okay,” Georgie replied before sprinting down the aisle.
After the boys hurried off, Megan grinned. “Ready?”
Aidan smiled back at her. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
***
Chapter Two
Adjusting the last place setting on the table, Emma Harrison stepped back to surmise how everything looked. Not that her three best friends really cared about the set-up. Tonight was about camaraderie and support rather than appearances. But the perfectionist and Public Relations side of Emma felt the need for everything to be just right.
Candlelight flickered throughout the dining room while muted orchestra music played festive holiday carols in the background. Although it was Christmas time, the centerpiece of the table wasn’t poinsettias. Instead, it was a huge arrangement of vibrant wild flowers—much like the ones in the mountains where she had grown up. In the middle of the flowers was a picture of her late fiancée, Travis.
Today was December 15th--the five year anniversary of his death. The day that marked the end of the perfect life they had together. It had all been taken away because a drunk driver leaving a holiday party had crossed the center line—killing himself and Travis instantly.
Most people couldn’t fathom having a celebration of life party for someone who was dead. But when the first anniversary of Travis’s death approached, Emma’s best friend since 7th grade, Connor Montgomery, broached the subject of marking the date each year with drinks and dinner from Travis’s favorite restaurant. Emma had liked the idea and invited along Travis’s roommate and best friend from medical school, Nate Rossi, and his fiancée, Casey Turner, who happened to be her best friend as well.