This Lifetime. | Edward Heffron

XV.

"Grandpa was your boss?" Amelia exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand, "Dang, Nana, you hit it big!"

"Yes, your grandfather was my boss, and even better yet, he was my biggest supporter," the older woman grinned cheekily, poking her granddaughter's cheek, "Oh, I loved Paul. Even before his death, when your mother was just a teenager, he treated me like a queen. But I wouldn't lie and say I wasn't waiting for Babe." Amelia nodded slowly, understanding the hope her grandmother had. "On our wedding day, I finally understood why people say to be careful of what you wish for."

Eleanor stood, staring at herself in the mirror. I look nothing like myself, she thought, and as though her mother read her thoughts, she agreed. "You've never looked prettier," her mother mumbled, tearing up.

For some reason, that upset her, because there had been many days she felt prettier. Eleanor could even name a few— The second day she delivered eggs to Babe's house, the night he came to speak to her. Stop, she thought, pushing back the thoughts of him to the back of her mind. Paul, she repeated to herself mentally, and thought of his wide smile and the past 5 months they'd been together.

5 months. That's how long they dated until he quickly popped the question. Eleanor said yes without hesitation. She did not hesitate then, and she wouldn't hesitate now. Standing in front of the church doors, Eleanor's heart beat in her chest. It was so loud, she worried they would all see it through her gown.

The doors swung open and she saw him standing at the pulpit. Her Babe. How he looked like against the moon, with his red hair messy at the top of his head. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, not believing what she was seeing. As she blinked, he disappeared. Paul stood there, his signature wide smile plastered on his face. She refused to hesitate.

As she walked down the aisle, her hands shook against the bouquet of flowers she gripped onto. "Gently," her mother whispered, smiling wider than Eleanor was. She smiled like it was her wedding.

Passing by the pews filled with people she hardly knew, Eleanor suddenly wished Dolores were here. Her best friend would surely understand, and Eleanor was probably just nervous.

So nervous, she thought she saw a flash of red hair. Stepping up into the pulpit, she held unto Paul's hand tightly, and flashed him a smile, this time genuine. All thoughts and worries were pushed into a box in her head where they would never come out again.

As they said their vows and placed rings on each other's fingers, Eleanor couldn't rid the heavy feeling in her chest. "Will you, Paul Gibson, take Eleanor Robinson, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" she heard the priest say, but it was muffled in her ears.

"I do," she heard Paul reply, but her eyes were blurry and she was no longer sure.

"Do you," the priest continued, turning to her this time, "Eleanor Robinson, take Paul Gibson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Eleanor paused. Did she? She turned to face all her guests, the pews filled with people she had gotten to know in the past 5 months of being with Paul. They all smiled at her expectantly, none more so than her mother, who had tears welling in her eyes.

Her heart fell unto the floor. Babe.

He was seated at the back, his round eyes the complete opposite of everyone else's. Was he real? Or was she just imagining things again?

Babe shook his head, and mouthed a quiet no. He was definitely real. From afar, he looked exactly the same. His hair was shorter and his shoulders broader, but his eyes were just as they were the day he had left her at that train station. She thought of him under the moonlight, she thought of him laying in the grass with his arm over his eyes.

Her Babe was here. In the flesh.

The priest looked at her, growing anxious, and everyone leaned in to see her response. Babe shook his head again, his eyes pleading with her.

"I do."