One Journey, the Final

Chapter 29:

Harry drove me home later that night, after his parents had gone to bed. It was midnight, and awfully frozen outside. The heater was slowly defrosting me. With chattering teeth and cold stuttering, I casually said,

"S-s-so. You saw m-my fi-filing cabinet. W-when?" He kept his eyes glued on the road. I could sense that he was nervous answering my question.

"What are you talking about?"

"You kn-know exactly what I'm talking about Harry. J-just tell me," I snapped. He was quiet for a while, but then cleared his throat after a minute.

"The night your parents came over, and you left to get ready, I was just sitting there on your couch waiting. After about five minutes I got bored so I thought I might...explore. I've never seen your room...." he started to say.

"Yo- you were in my room?! Didn't you know that I was right next door in the shower?" I said fearfully.

"I did. And you think you being in the shower is going to stop me? That would lure most guys. I just wanted to see how you designed your room. Then I saw your office, and decided to see what you were working on. I was a little surprised to see all the papers on the floor, so I thought I might help clean up. Then I saw the sketches and lists, and I sat and read them. They were all very interesting. I love your ideas. When I realized that you were about to get out, I ran down the stairs and tried to hide my secret by observing the painting. I hope you're not mad," he said gently. When all of it sunk in, I decided that I wasn't mad. I was going to have to show him sometime anyways, so that just made it easier.

"I'm not mad. You've actually made it a lot easier. I was eventually going to have to show you, which I was afraid I wouldn't be very good at." I said, my voice now becoming even. I could sense Harry relax, and I felt at peace.

"We've got the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Are you ready love?" he asked. Oh yes, the dreaded rehearsal dinner. It's not like I wasn't grateful to have this magical wedding, I just didn't want to deal with the rehearsal dinner. Long night of saying hello to people, toasting, and random snacking. Which also means, the wedding is closer than I think. I really had to start packing.

"Everyone, everyone, I believe it's time for the toasts," my father said, standing up and tinkling a spoon against a glass. All the small talk ceased and eyes were on my father.

"Twenty five years ago, on a very wet morning, a little girl was brought into me and my wife's life. She was exceptionally beautiful with dark brown curls, big sparkling green eyes, and lightly pink cheeks. I held her frail little body wrapped up in a thick pink blanket, and listened to her little newborn wails. I loved every minute of it. I remember cooing her name, and holding her tiny hand. I'm sure it was a less than comfortable day for my wife, but nonetheless the day that changed our lives. After waiting nine months, our little Annabel had been delivered into our lives. And honestly, none of it was fair. It's not fair that we only got her for eighteen years, it wasn't fair to watch her grow up and out of our lives. I am so lucky to be her father, guiding and seeing her live. She has always been such a determined girl, from the time she was four and just a little squirt climbing the trees in the backyard, scraping up her knees. Always seemed like my wife was the one crying over her cuts and bruises, while she would just sit through the pain. My little girl was the one collecting lady bugs, dancing in the rain, putting too much chocolate syrup in her milk, and always looking for an adventure. As she grew, she became the runner-racing with the wind, her hair always in a French braid, and she was constantly dancing. When she left for college, it was hard for both of us. Our baby, the liveliness in our home, was leaving. There were never enough phone calls or video chats to make up for the pounding silence in our home. We always look forward to seeing you again sweetie. And know that we always have supported you, and baby, we love you. I can see that this boy, this man, is good. He will be good to you. And I only want the best for you, Annabel," my father said, toasting to us. I wiped a few tears from my eyes, and in the corner of my eyes, I could see Harry had red eyes. He was holding back tears. His mother came up next, and she said,