We spent last night apart. Tradition. Jane is funny about them. We haven't had sex yet, although it's been a struggle to stop many times. I put my foot down about a bachelor party. The last thing we needed at our wedding was half of guests and one of the brides showing up hungover or, knowing them, still inebriated despite anyone's best intention. She hasn't seen my dress, or the clothes I chose for her. She nodded her agreement when she saw the completed rings, and went with me to choose a cake, and to the florist. That and a few phone calls are the extent of our preparation. Judge Reynolds, who went to school with my father, my adoptive father, is delighted to perform the ceremony. My parents are here. I am quite surprised that they came, but I suspect their delight with me will be dulled when they realize who I am marrying. They've always been snobs.

I am dressed and ready and waiting, thinking about what I'm about to do, and the woman I'm tying my life to. It is the only decision I haven't second guessed. Thinking about her makes me smile. Those are just two of the reasons we're doing this.

I am so looking forward to seeing her. The green silk shirt goes perfectly with the emerald earrings her mother gave her, and brings out the tiny bits of color other than brown in her eyes. Her hair will look lovely against it, too. Trousers, shoes. I want us to be comfortable, and although Jane will wear dresses, she is never comfortable in them or dress heels. My dress is a little fancy, as Jane would say, but not over the top.

"Maura?" Frankie calls after knocking, "you ready?"

Oh, yes. I've been ready for a long time, far longer than Jane, and open the door.

Behind Frankie, Jane stands, eyes wide as surveys me, and I don't even notice that Frankie is gone until Jane takes two steps across the hall to me. She takes my hand, raises it to her lips, kisses it. "Let's get married."

I return the gesture, my eyes still locked with hers.

Judge Reynolds smiles when we approach. "Ready?" he asks quietly.

I nod, and so does Jane, and he begins the traditional wedding ceremony. All of the blah blah blah is for the others; I'm waiting impatiently for the important part. The part where we reiterate the promises we made to each other long ago. I answer, "I do," and Jane answers, "Yes," and she kisses my hand again after she slides the wedding band on, and then we are kissing, and there is clapping and the occasional whistle. Jane's smile is more brilliant than I have ever seen it, and I do not need to analyze her facial expressions for cues to her emotions. I can feel it, her love for me, and her joy at our union. It's warm around me. I hope she feels mine. I was right about the ring. It is beautiful on her hand. Over the next few days, we will be reminded of our wedding as our brains prompt us to notice the small change in weight our bodies carry.

While we pose for photos, she murmurs that I am beautiful and that our vows forgot ravish. I shiver and wonder whether the rush of arousal her words cause will show on the photos. It takes forever for everyone to leave. I call her name and she comes out of the kitchen, and a sexy lazy grin comes onto her face. "Botticelli," she says, moving to meet me halfway.

"What?"

"You look like a Botticelli painting."

I kiss her. She kisses me. Scoops me up when we stop. That's sexy, that she is strong enough to carry me and willing to do it. She sits down on the bed and starts to work on the zipper of my dress. I don't have to prompt her to be careful with the clothing. "Do you like the dress?"

"I love the dress. The woman wearing it can make a paper bag look good." Jane slides it down my shoulders. I see her pleased surprise that I am bare beneath the silk. "I'm so glad I didn't know this when I saw you or the guests would have been waiting a while."

"Mmmmm." Her hands feel wonderful, and I kiss her and unbutton her shirt. We've been waiting forever. In less than a minute, we're both naked in the middle of the bed.

The clothes will have to wait.