Closest To My Heart

Epilogue

As the red-orange sun inched closer to the horizon, Maggie slipped away from her new husband and their friends, her white cotton sundress billowing in the ocean breeze as her bare feet shuffled through the sand. Sitting alone at one of the many picnic tables that had been assembled and decorated for the occasion, Patrick O'Donnell grumbled under his breath as he removed one of his tasseled leather loafers and dumped out a steady stream of sand. Maggie shook her head and smiled. Her father had always detested the beach, and while he'd managed to keep that to himself throughout the ceremony and the reception that followed, his patience was obviously wearing thin.

"I'm guessing a beach wedding wasn't your top choice," Maggie said, sitting down beside him and brushing some sand from his pantleg.

"No, but it's your day, not mine," her father reminded her, squeezing her close in a one-arm embrace. "And this is a big improvement over that hippie-dippie shindig your brother and his wife put on, that's for damn sure!"

Maggie laughed, looking out over the gathering of her friends and family until she spotted the recently-wed couple standing beside the bonfire. Sean stood behind Sienna with his arms circled around her, both of them swaying contentedly to the beat of the music as he caressed the barely-visible baby bump that had only recently begun to reveal itself.

"I know, but look how happy they are," Maggie said, resting her head on her father's shoulder. "Besides, did any of us really expect Sean to have a traditional wedding, or any wedding at all, for that matter?"

Patrick O'Donnell chuckled. "No, I guess not," he admitted. "And what about you, sweetheart? Are you happy?"

Maggie's mind flipped through the events of the past fourteen months, from the day she first met Tag until the moment she said I do. In that relatively short amount of time, she'd found the love of her life, moved to an island paradise, gone back to school, planned the (simple) wedding of her dreams... and found that even fairy-tale endings are far from perfect. Their apartment was tiny, her car was old, her classes were grueling, and a seagull had crapped on her daisy bouquet right in the middle of their wedding vows! And yet...

"I am happy, Daddy," she said, sitting up to face the man she'd idolized for as far back as she could remember. "I'm happier than I ever thought possible."

"Then I'm happy, too," he said, slipping his other shoe off and tipping it upside down. "In spite of all the sand."

"Patrick, there you are!" Maggie's mother cut in, her sheer scarf floating in her wake as she hurried toward them. "Renata and I want a picture of all us parents together, and the photographer says the light is fading fast, so hurry!"

She flagged her hand in a frantic circling motion before bustling back to the spot where Tag's photographer friend was taking pictures of the wedding guests. It had taken some doing, but Maggie had finally convinced Tag to hand over the proverbial reins, for one day at least. It wouldn't do for the groom to be working on his wedding day, after all.

"I'd better get over there, I suppose," Maggie's father said, slipping his shoe back on before standing to adjust the collar of his dress shirt. "How do I look?"

"Dashing," Maggie said, standing to tweak the knot of his tie. "Very handsome, as always."

"Ah, your mother's taught you well," he said, planting a firm kiss on her forehead. "Flattery will get you everywhere with a man."

Maggie laughed and folded her arms over her midsection as she watched her father walk away. He joined his wife and Tag's parents at the shoreline, and the two women set about instructing the men as to where they should stand.