Katie had screamed with excitement and flown into Mike's arms when they told her that she was allowed to take his last name. "You're my dad now," she announced with tears in her eyes. "And you're the best dad ever."
It was true. Mike had been the best thing that had ever happened to Katie. Marcy's daughter was more confident and less nervous now. Also less shy. Mike loved Katie for who she was. He made it safe for Katie to be herself.
Marcy had worried that Trent was scarring Katie for life, making their daughter feel abandoned and unwanted. Now that burden had lifted completely. Marcy's quiet and self-contained child had changed. And why wouldn’t she?
New name, new home, and a brand new father – a real one this time. Mike would give his life for her. He was just that kind of guy. He loved Katie to bits.
Trent, who valued power, money and good-looks, now had none of those things. No money, no wife, no daughter, no business. It had to be karma. Did Trent get what was coming to him? He sure as hell did. The man had nothing because he deserved nothing.
Trent is gone from Vegas for good. Does it get any better than that?
"Time to go, you stunning bride, you," Sue, Marcy's childhood friend, told her.
Sue was Marcy's Maid of Honor. Janice, Mike's sister, and Amber, Marcy's friend were both bridesmaids. All three women were dressed in elegant chiffon, full length gowns that were vivid cobalt blue and strapless. Yellow rose bouquets accented the color.
With nervous steps, Marcy followed her friend out the door. They had decided on having a late afternoon outdoor ceremony at the Wynn Hotel. A large still lake, forty-foot waterfall, and a pine-topped mountain was the backdrop for the event.
Marcy considered what Mike repeated daily, a few days before the wedding.
"This is going to be your dream wedding, sweetheart," Mike had said. "The entire thing is for you, Marcy. It's your day, so don't stress. Everything is taken care of. Yes, it's a celebration of our love and our new life together. But it's also about having fun. Do you know what your job is on the day we get married?" he had asked.
Marcy had shook her head at him
"Your job, at the end of the day is to say to me, 'That was such a great wedding! It was the best wedding I have ever been to! I had so much fun!' And that is all. Our wedding is all about starting our new life together right, by having the best time you've ever had, okay?"
Mike's loving kiss had been a confirmation.
Gustave told Marcy that he would be honored to act as her father and give her away. Marcy was particularly pleased by that. Gustave had impressed her from the start. Marcy valued his friendship. He was a class act.
Gustave smiled at Marcy; wise, perceptive and debonair. He looked amazing in his tuxedo. "Are you ready, my most beautiful daughter?" he asked kindly with his strong French accent.
Marcy took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be," she said.
Gustave took her arm, as the wedding march started. The Maid of Honor went first, then the two bridesmaids. As Marcy started walking down the aisle, surrounded by friends and her new family, she found that she had calmed.
At the end of the aisle was Mike, looking tall and handsome. He was waiting for her. His eyes brightened as he saw her, and the smile on his face made her heart lurch. Mike's brothers Craig and James were waiting with him as groomsmen, with André Chevalier as best man.
They all look so happy, she mused. And so handsome.
Katie was also dressed in a short cobalt blue dress appropriate for her age. Her blonde hair was dressed with a ring of flowers, her blue eyes shining. Sitting in the front row, she watched avidly. Katie looked quite grown up, and smiled throughout the ceremony. She would act as a flower girl at the end.
The ceremony was traditional, but there would be one small addition to include Katie. She would be incorporated into the service after the "I do's."
"I now pronounce you, husband and wife," the minister proclaimed. "You may kiss the bride."
Everyone clapped.
Katie stood up then, facing the congregation, her back to Mike and Marcy. They each put a welcoming hand, one on each shoulder. Their minister added an explanation about how with this marriage Mike, Marcy and Katie were all joining together, united in one happy family.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the minister said. "May I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, and their daughter, Katie Thompson."
With spontaneous enthusiasm, the audience all stood up, clapping and cheering like mad.
As the bride and groom walked down the aisle, Katie walked in front, liberally throwing yellow, white and pink petals of fragrant roses out into the aisle. Later, when they looked through the wedding photos, Marcy and Mike would comment about the joyous smile on Katie's face.
The reception was held a number of floors above in the Wynn Hotel.
Friends and family were treated to a romantic view out over the sparkling city lights of Las Vegas. Mike had booked the ballroom for a full twenty-four hours with dinner and dancing for three hundred guests. The bar would be open all night and into the next day.
Andre Chevalier warned Marcy and Mike that he had arranged a huge fireworks show that would go off sometime during the evening.
"But I cannot be certain of the exact time, my friends," he warned. "The display will be seen from the ballroom, mais oui, clearly seen. But when?" He gave that classic Gallic shrug of his. "Who can say?"
Mike's sister, Janice, had been a godsend. The wedding consultant spent hours with her going over details. Ornamental trees and flowers decorated the large dining and ballroom, with floral arrangements everywhere.
The whole place smelled like an open garden, or perhaps a florist shop. It looked like one, too.
There were long banquet tables, set for an intimate family feel. Instead of clear glassware, the glasses were cobalt blue, accenting the bridesmaid's dresses. Little splashes of color throughout the room made a big impact.
Pink and yellow uplights gave the large setting a warm glow, making the entire place chic and stylish, yet also intimate and cozy.
Dinner, toasts and speeches went off without a hitch.
Marcy was glad that she and Mike had taken dancing lessons for the bridal waltz. While they both could dance, she lacked confidence. The truth was that Mike had enough confidence enough for the both of them.
Just like in the bedroom, Mike controlled Marcy completely on the dance floor. His height and male strength made her moderate ability to dance seem far superior. Marcy felt poised, beautiful and elegant.
How did such a big guy like Mike, move with such effortless grace?
Katie had picked the Bridal Waltz music from one of her favorite Disney movies, 'A Whole New World' which was part of the soundtrack of 'Aladdin.' The song was a delight, and the lyrics appropriate.
Marcy was on a high, as Mike swung her across the ballroom floor, dancing in concert during the Bridal Waltz.
How true, Marcy mused while being held firmly in Mike's strong arms. Mike had shown her a whole new world. But Marcy was going to show him a whole new world, too. A thrill of excitement went through her as she imagined his reaction to her news.
The lighting was set low, yet as the only ones on the dance floor – the main lights were upon them.
The music continued, playing a sweet melody of love.
They danced half way through the song, sliding along gracefully as if they were professionals and had been doing this all their life.
Mike had that "look" on his face, tender and possessive; his eyes were drinking her in. No one had ever looked at Marcy like that. It was that special intent expression he gave her, the "God, I love you more than anything" look. It always took her breath away.
Shivers ran through her, making her heart twist with happiness.
"I love you, Marcy Thompson," he murmured. The sound of her new surname on his lips gave her a thrill of pleasure.
"I love you too, Mike Thompson," she replied and then she bit her lip. Should she tell him now?
"What?" he asked, noticing the indecision that must have shown in her eyes.
"I have something to tell you."
"Oh?"
"You know how you have a calendar on your phone that lets you know when my period is due?"
"Yeah?"
"Well. It's not working anymore."
Mike frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'm pregnant."
He faltered a bit, a tiny misstep in his dance. "You're pregnant?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Yes."
That look of his was back again, blasting away in full force. There was such joy glittering in his dark eyes, in his expression… in his heart.
Marcy felt her throat tighten, as the reality of it hit home. When she understood once more, just how completely Mike loved her.
Mike picked Marcy up, raising her high in the air by the waist. Stunned, utterly surprised, she gripped his shoulders holding on for dear life. What was he thinking?
The joy Mike felt at her announcement was clearly too much for him.
The news about the baby had obviously sent her ridiculous husband, the madman, the lunatic completely over the edge. Head back, he spun her around in a circle, and the entire time he was uninhibitedly, joyously, delightedly, laughing, laughing… laughing.
Just then André's firework display began, lighting up the darkened room in colors of red, greens, yellows and white.
Mike's glorious and unrestrained joy was infectious.
A strong man, he effortlessly held her high up above him, his gaze locked on hers. Like Kate Winslet in the movie The Titanic, Marcy pointed her toes and raised her arms up shoulder high. She was flying, flying, flying through the air as she and Mike euphorically glided, turning in circles, spinning gracefully together around the dance floor.
Their spontaneous actions must have looked like a pre-planned dance routine. The whole room filled with thunderous applause, while Mike and Marcy spun, and circled and laughed and laughed.
Right then they joined together in a timeless moment of total happiness and pure joy.
Epilogue
Three months later….
Marcy dreamed of her mom again. This time, while Marcy still couldn’t hear her speak, she heard and understood her somehow. Was it through her mother's feelings, perhaps?
"I'm so happy for you, darling," her mother projected the thought with a contented smile. "I don’t need to worry anymore. Goodbye, sweetheart."
When Marcy woke, an odd sensation ran through her.
It was an absence.
Marcy had cried then, sobbed really, with happy tears. It was just as well that Mike had left early for work. That man could be brought to his knees by a woman's tears.
Sure as she knew her own name, Marcy knew that her mother was at peace. Now that Marcy was happy, her mom had finally been able to let her go.
It was Saturday morning. Katie and Ziggy had spent the night at her friend Samantha's grandmother's big house. That dog and her daughter were inseparable. If Ziggy didn't go with Katie he would mope and pine. They were good for each other.
Marcy made an asparagus frittata for her and Mike for lunch. He had received a phone call in the middle of the night. In the morning she found a note that he had been called in to deal with something, but would be home before noon.
Marcy sat on the family room couch with her legs up, flicking through a baby magazine. A satisfied grin was spread across her face. She had suffered so many financial worries with her first child, and had worked throughout her pregnancy.
This time around she planned to enjoy the whole experience.
Milk it for all its worth, in fact.
It had taken awhile, but Marcy figured that she finally knew what love was. Love was when you were down - the man that you loved brought you up again. Love was when he was down - you did the same for him. Your love was the focus and the reason. Everything was better with the one you love.
Mike was Marcy's best friend and her most trusted confidant.
Mike was also a tyrant with the TV remote, it rarely left his hand – over controlling, bullying nut case that he was. Not only that, but he still dropped his socks wherever he took them off, the rat. Perhaps Marcy would train him in time, yet it wasn't important. Seeing the remote in his hand, and those socks on the floor in the family room always made her smile.
Perfection was overrated.
Marcy loved everything about Mike, even his flaws.
Mike came in from his morning job, bringing in yesterday's mail. "Hey, gorgeous." He leaned down and gave her a kiss, and then bent over and kissed her stomach, too. "Hi little one. There's a personal letter for you, Marcy."
"Oh?"
He handed her a pink envelope, the writing on it in a clearly feminine hand. Marcy ripped it open. Mike sat down next to her, his body against hers with one arm resting on the couch behind her. He placed his hand on her stomach in a tender, yet proprietary gesture. She was becoming used to his constant touching.
He acts like he owns me, she thought with an internal snort. But that's okay because I own him, too.
My dearest Marcy,
I don’t know how to thank you. You helped give me the courage to run away. It sounds like cowardice, but I know now that it wasn't. I have learned so many things. I'll never forget what you told me, how if you had been braver that you would have confronted him. You also said how you always regretted that he left you. You wished that you had left him first.
Well I left him, and have never been happier. I married Martin, the perfect man for me. He never belittles me, or tries to obsessively control my life. We love and trust each other. We are partners. See? I was listening to you that day you and I talked.
I am writing to thank you and tell you that I appreciate all you did for me.
You and your family are welcome to stay with us any time if you ever come to Texas,
Your friend,
Debbie Quinn XOXO
PS Here is a picture of me, Martin, and my grandfather. We live near him in Texas now. I told you that he would understand!
A surge of joy thrilled through Marcy. She called herself Debbie now. Debbie Quinn.
Debbie had married the kind, hardworking Martin! The bright young man that clearly adored her. A vision flashed through her mind, a passing thought of those two lovers in bed with each other. Martin was the kind of man that would make love to Debbie every time. There had been an innocence and purity in their affection toward each other.
The thought that she had been instrumental in advising them to run and in bringing them together was satisfying. Two nice young people – they deserved each other.
The photo was in her hand and Marcy stared at it. Three smiling faces looked back at her. Debra looked so happy. Next to her was Martin Quinn, their pool guy. But the biggest surprise was the Texan, Debra's grandfather.
Marcy dropped the picture in her stunned shock.
"What? What is it?" Mike asked, grabbing her hand.
Marcy's mind reeled. Debra's grandfather was that Texan that she met in the casino all those months ago. The broad tall cowboy who had started this all. The man who had accidentally dropped the $100 bill.
"Hey, are you okay?" Mike asked.
Marcy felt strangely light-headed and kind of faint. Goosebumps ran up and down her arm. Her mother had said goodbye in her dreams last night, and now she received this letter and photo. What in the hell was going on here?
"What is it?" he asked, looking a little alarmed.
"Jesus, Mike, it's all connected I swear!"
She bent down, picked up the picture and showed it to him, telling him about the Texan who had dropped the $100 bill. She explained how because of the Texan she had met André, and then because of André she had met him. That Debra had run off with their pool boy was coincidence enough – but the fact that they had run to her grandfather, that cowboy in Texas!
Talk about six degrees of separation.
Keyed up and blown away by the incredible coincide
nces, Marcy surged to her feet and began to pace. She knew that Vegas was a small sort of place compared to L.A., Chicago or New York, but not that small!
How had all these lives crossed?
"What goes around comes around," she finished, after her rant, sitting back down on the couch next to him. Instinctively she reached for him and took his hand. Touching him had become natural for her now, too.
Marcy shook her head and met his concerned gaze. "I never believed in fate, and that expression 'everything happens for a reason' has always left me cold," she said. "But really! Maybe everything really does happen for a reason. There truly is karma. There's no escape. You might as well try to live right. But who would have thought?"
Mike listened and smiled at her, nodding and agreeing with everything. Marcy saw affection and thoughtful consideration in his eyes. Was he humoring the pregnant woman? It was true, she did sound a bit crazy. But really, she and Katie had been blessed.
I have everything that I ever wanted, a man that I love, a beautiful daughter, and Mike's child on the way.
How had she been so lucky? That idea didn’t make her so nervous anymore.
Obviously she deserved her happiness.
"You know," Mike began, absently waving his free hand in the air. "You say that it is all about you, the Texan and the $100 bill and so on – but really, I think that it's all about me."
Marcy burst out laughing. "Is that so?" she snorted.
"Well sure," he said. "You didn't steal the $100 bill, and André hired you because he was thinking of me. I was the one he wanted to fix up with a woman. André knew that I was lonely. It really was all because I constantly refused casual sex. That really bugged André, the fact that I wasn't getting any, did I ever tell you that?"
"No! But it sounds like André!" she giggled.
"Oh yes. He disapproved. Not having sex was, 'most unhealthy for the body, oui, but also for the soul.'" They both laughed loudly because Mike, who was good at impersonations, imitated André's accent and mannerisms perfectly.
"André, for all his talk, doesn't have casual sex with women," Mike said. "He genuinely connects with them every single time. There isn’t a woman in the world that man doesn't adore. André makes love – because he honestly loves them all."