Rightfully Hers

XXXII

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Reece shrieked, slamming open the bedroom door. "Margaret is going to pitch a fit!" I heard her voice trail farther away, yelling, "Margaret, you're never going to believe this!"

Isabelle groaned, lying half on top of me. I could feel her right leg draped over both of mine, her right arm across my stomach, her face tucked into the side of my neck. I had my left arm around her loosely, still not awake enough to promote any sort of movement.

"Tell her to be quiet," my fiancée groaned again, snuggling closer to me, "I just wanna sleep."

We both must have fallen asleep for a few minutes, until footsteps at the door were heard, two pairs this time, and my mother let out an ungodly gasp.

"Jada Warren! Don't you know that you're not supposed to see the bride the night before the wedding?" She squawked, "it's bad luck!"

"Mom," I whined, keeping my eyes closed, "I am the bride."

"Hey!" Isabelle giggled tiredly into me, "I am too!"

"Yes," I agreed, "that would be right, considering we're marrying each other."

She raised her right arm, eyes still closed, and lazily tapped the side of my head with her palm. "Don't be a smartass."

"Yes, ma'am."

My mom groaned, and I opened my eyes to catch her rubbing a hand over her face. "Isabelle! You were so excited to plan this with me! I thought you'd be awake and excited!"

"Oh, I'm very excited, Margaret," my fiancée assured her, "I cannot wait to marry your daughter."

"She's dead to the world in the morning," I explained to my mom, now fully awake. It was a lot easier for me to wake up than it was for my sleepy fiancée beside me. "Give her some coffee and she'll be bouncing off the walls for sure."

Reece didn't waste any time before shuffling forward to hand Isabelle a cup of coffee. The blonde beside me scooted backwards to lean her back against the headboard, sipping the hot drink and yawning. "Just give me a minute," she told the two.

"You don't get any more minutes! We've set up the makeup and hair areas in two separate bedrooms, so say your goodbyes because you won't be seeing each other until the ceremony!" My mom informed us, the clip of her tone leaving no room for arguments.

I leaned over and kissed my fiancée passionately, leaving us both breathless within twenty seconds. "I'll see you later then," I said to her.

"If you're lucky," she replied with a goofy grin.

I slid out of bed then and followed my mom into one of our guest rooms. I knew Reece would lead Isabelle into the other room to do her hair and makeup when she was done her coffee and awake enough to be excited.

"Are the girls alright?" I asked when she'd practically thrown me into a chair and immediately began to work.

"Well, Arabelle informed me that if Spanish food wasn't being served at the reception, she wasn't coming."

I laughed. "And what'd you say to that?"

"I told her she was going to get a Spanish ass whooping if she didn't behave," my mom replied as though it were obvious.

At this, I laughed harder, trying to imagine my daughter's face. "What'd she say to that?"

It was my mom's turn to laugh. "She said, 'At least it's Spanish. I'll take what I can get.'"

"And Charlie's okay too?"

"Oh yes, she's downstairs in the living room with Julian. He brought a date, you know. That tiny Asian boy isn't too happy about it. What's his name again?"