This came to me as a snippet from my "Journey's End" world. If you're not familiar, Cal and Gillian are together and they have a little boy.
He couldn't get the bowtie right and it was starting to piss him off. His hands were shaking so badly and that pissed him off even more. But he shouldn't be pissed off. Not today of all days.
With a growl, he pulled the tie free and tried again. Okay, in all fairness there was a tiny bit of arthritis in his fingers but that wasn't it. Well, not completely.
Movement from the door had him inwardly sighing in relief.
"How're you doing?" As always, her presence calmed him. "Need a hand?"
"Bloody stubborn thing."
"Mmhm."
Cal turned into her embrace before she pulled back and tied the perfect bow with ease. "There."
He didn't turn to check himself in the mirror but continued to gaze at Gill. "You look gorgeous." She wore a satin royal blue dress with a keyhole neckline and matching shrug. Her eyes stood out vividly.
Her blush was instant. "It's not like you didn't see me earlier."
"Doesn't change that you still look gorgeous."
She smiled, still blushing and rested her palm against his cheek. "And you look dashing."
"Think so?"
"Oh yeah."
The possibility of a quickie ran through his mind and kept running. Without even looking at the clock he knew there wasn't time. "Where's the monster?"
"Downstairs watching TV and fidgeting."
"Case of the nerves?"
"Like father, like son."
Cal grunted and wove an arm around her waist. "Best be off. I'll never live it down if we're late."
Leaning in, she brushed his cheek with her lips. "Relax, we have some time."
Huh. Maybe it wasn't as late as he thought. He stopped her as his hands found her hips.
"Not that much time Cal."
Ah hell.
Her laugh was like crystal. She knew him too damned well.
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
She took his arm with one hand and smacked his bicep with the other.
They arrived downstairs to find James sitting on his knees and chewing on the edge of one fingernail. He looked up with worried blue eyes as cartoons went unheeded. "I'm gonna trip."
"No buddy, you're not." Cal slid away from his wife and crouched in front of the five-year-old. "Normal to have butterflies though."
"I bet you don't cuz you're brave." His eyes were huge as he stared up at his father, waiting for confirmation.
Cal brushed his fingers through the boy's sandy hair. "Only when I have to be." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I'm actually kind of scared shitless."
"Cal!" Gillian admonished as the boy began to giggle.
"Thought we're supposed to be honest with him!" He defended himself giving James a wink.
Gillian sighed and tried not to smile. As of yet the little boy hadn't begun to imitate his dad's propensity for colorful metaphors but it was only a matter of time. Years back Cal had mentioned Emily's toddler speak included 'no,' 'dah,'(daddy) 'mommy,' 'beeza' (pizza), 'eee me' (help me) and 'oooo sht.'
James' giggling subsided and he cast a serious eye at Cal. "You're really scared dad?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Why?" He stood on his knees and leaned against his father. "Do you think you're gonna trip too?"
"Nah, nothin' like that."
"Why then?"
How do you explain this kind of thing to a five-year-old?
Gillian had stepped around them and delicately perched on the edge of the couch, watching and waiting, the smile she'd tried to hide before sneaking through.
"Uh, it's just gonna be a big change, that's all."
"Why?"
"Okay, it's more of an…um, psychological change for me. A shift of thinkin' I suppose."
"Does it make you feel old?" James blinked and Cal narrowed his eyes.
"As a matter of fact I guess it does."
"Why?"
Shit on a shingle. Cal opened his mouth and closed it again.
"It's okay dad." The boy patted his knee. "I don't think you're old."
"Well dad, it's almost time." Emily looked up at Cal, her big dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"So it is, luv."
"You going to be okay?"
He tilted his head and studied her closely. She looked nervous, without a doubt, but she also looked happy. In fact, beaming was a better word. Tears stung at the back of his eyes but he managed to hold them back. He did have a reputation to consider after all. "As long as you're happy darlin', I will always be okay."
"Well, you know what they say. You're not losing a daughter, you're gaining a son."
Cal grunted. "Wouldn't go that far."
She smacked him on the same bicep Gillian had tagged him an hour ago. He'd probably be bruised there by the end of the day. A smirk pulled at his mouth, only because he was afraid a whole smile would bring about too much emotion. "Hey, none of that."
"You had it coming." Her voice mocked but the undercurrent of nerves was playing havoc with her.
"Fair enough." He stepped a tiny bit closer and tenderly kissed her cheek. "I know Eric is a good man and a very lucky one."
"Thanks dad." She sniffled and delicately wiped at her eyes with base of her hand.
"Better stop that now. Gonna get married lookin' like a ringtail otherwise."
"Oh, there's an image!"
The music shifted to let them know it was time. Cal held his arm out. "Okay, my beautiful girl, let's get this over with."
She made a little noise of assent but didn't smack him this time.
A lump had formed in his throat and he did his best to push it down and away but it remained persistent. It accompanied him from the building, into the garden and up into the gazebo while his daughter's hand clung to him.
Things were turning a little hazy but he caught sight of his son standing next to Eric, the pillow in his hands, grinning proudly - apparently his ring bearing duties had been successful. Gillian was smiling such a beautiful smile from the front row that the lump swelled even more.
Not going to cry. Hell no.
Somehow he got through the part of "Who gives this woman?" and retreated to sit next to Gill. He threw his arm around her and as she leaned into him, he caught a whiff of her familiar scent. Body wash, shampoo, a tiny bit of perfume but underneath it all, the comfort of her distinct fragrance. He loved the way she smelled and he pressed his cheek to the crown of her head. It was a happy distraction. A happy distraction, which pulled him away from the fact that his little girl was getting married. Married. His brain felt like it was on a tilt-o-whirl. An image of a little brown-eyed girl coming to him with scraped palms from falling off her bike assaulted him, another one had her covered in chocolate cake at her first birthday party and yet another blowing him kisses when she trudged off to kindergarten ("To help you feel brave daddy since I won't be home to take care of you!"). The lump moved up and down some more. When she was three, she wore a Pluto hat at Disney World and hid whenever any of the park characters came roaming about. He once got a call from her school when she was in 2nd grade because she'd punched a boy for bring mean to another little girl – Zoë had been away on business and Cal had taken Em for ice cream for standing up for her ideals – it had been their secret. He wondered if it was still just their secret or if Emily had shared it with the other man in her life.
So damned young. Why did she decide to get married so young?
Because Eric was everything to Emily just like Gillian was everything to him. Was there some kind of range when you're supposed to find the right person? What if you find that right one early but you put it off to pursue education or career and you never find them again? You could go through life always wondering and then wind up settling for someone else later. Damned depressing.
Of course she has such a bright future. Getting engaged hadn't distracted her from her goals and Eric seemed to constantly encourage her as well. The guy got a lot of points for that.
Maybe it would be okay.
But why the hell won't this lump go away?
"Cal, it's over." Gillian whispered.
He sat up straight just as his daughter and her new husband swept past.
Married.
He kept it together up to the point of when he danced with his little girl. Cal wasn't a sap. He'd never been one but holding her in his arms as the cheesy music blared was a little much. The lump was persistent and he felt it swell to the point of blocking off all his tough guy tendencies.
"Oh my God, dad." Emily looked up at him in amazement before gently touching his cheek. "You're crying." Her voice was soft.
"I am absolutely not crying."
She smiled as her own eyes filled. "It's okay."
"Dunno what you're talkin' about." He spun her around, away from too many prying eyes. Easier thought than done. Had half of D.C. been invited to this thing?
Still smiling she rested her cheek against his chest. "It's okay dad. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret."
Cal chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Promise?"
"Abso-bloody-lutely." She pulled back to gaze up at him, tears running down her face. "Love you dad."
"Love you too darlin'."