NOW

I bless the day I found you

I wanna stay around you

And so I beg you, let it be me

Don't take this heaven from one

If you must cling to someone

Now and forever, let it be me

Each time we meet, love

I find complete love

Without your sweet love

What would life be?

"Let It Be Me"

The Everly Brothers

May 8, 1952

Worcester, Massachusetts

"Chuck, will you relax?" Morgan asked, half-teasing, as he watched Chuck fidgeting, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, unsure of what to do with his hands.

"A man is allowed to be nervous when he gets married, right?" Chuck asked, his voice squeaking.

"Well…yes. But, Chuck, you're marrying… Sarah. This is a dream come true. And it's just us. This is the happiest day of your life," Morgan reminded him, patting Chuck on his shoulder.

Chuck took a deep breath and smiled. Morgan was right, of course. Chuck had no reason to be so jittery. There was no large audience. Only four people in total, his closest family and their best friends. He told himself it was the mere idea–standing before your dream as it was about to come true. Anticipation and expectation amplified it all.

"You know that girl like the back of your hand," Morgan added lightly.

Morgan would have no way of knowing, but it was the wrong thing to say as a means of comfort, as well as an unhappy use of metaphor.

Do I? Chuck asked himself in panic. The weight of what remained unsaid between them settled on him.

A voice in his head answered. Yes, you do. But it wasn't his voice answering, he realized with a start. It was Gertrude's, the same way she had been reassuring him all along, helping him keep the faith. Chuck was closer to Sarah than to any other person in his life. He steeled himself; his patient faith was stronger than his feverish nerves. His faith in Sarah, anyway.

The two men stood in the office of the justice of the peace. The room was also the parlor of the justice's home, a sprawling country house on the edge of the city. An oriental rug, primarily navy, covered the gleaming hardwood floor in front of the hearth. The furniture and curtains coordinated, complimenting the carpet. A homey smell floated in the air, a pleasant mixture of baking vanilla and lemon furniture polish. Everything was well cared for, well loved.

Chuck had never met Tristan Merchant, the older gentleman who was about to conduct the ceremony. Chuck had made the appointment after obtaining their marriage license. Merchant was tall and thin, his suit well pressed but hanging loosely on his frame, untailored. His silver hair was thick and traditionally parted.

Chuck had arrived about 30 minutes ago, dressed in his best black suit, with a black tie. His shoes were blindingly polished. He had arrived with Casey and Gertrude, and Morgan Grimes, his best man. Casey and Morgan too had worn their best suits, Gertrude wore the new dress she had purchased the day before when shopping at Denholm's with Sarah. The emerald green dress was fancier than anything else Gertrude owned.

My own wedding dress doesn't fit anymore. That's the only more important occasion I could have ever dressed for, Gertrude had explained to him.

Merchant had engaged the Caseys and Chuck in conversation, starting the discussion by asking if Chuck was related to Stephen Bartowski from Green Island. For the second time in a week, Chuck explained to a stranger that Stephen J. Bartowski was his father. The more Chuck interacted with the people in the city, the more he realized how well-liked and respected his parents had been. He had been too young to understand the extent of this when his parents were alive, and relatively isolated from that sort of interaction when growing up with the Caseys.

Merchant spoke of Chuck's parents' good deeds, their generosity and kindness. Chuck accepted the praise, smiling amicably.

"Are we just waiting on the bride?" Merchant asked, smiling wanly at the group, once the conversation lagged.

The bride.

In Chuck's heightened state, those words went straight through him. His nerves flared. "Yea—yeah," Chuck stuttered.

"She's coming with the Maid of Honor," Gertrude explained.

Sarah and Carina had been at Chuck's house all morning; Chuck had spent the night in Morgan's house, on Morgan's mother's couch. It was too small for his long legs, but that fact was inconsequential, since he had barely slept. For once, it was excited jitters instead of troubled foreboding that kept him from shutting his eyes.

"What about Miss Burton's family?" Merchant asked innocently.

Merchant didn't understand the implications of his wording, nor the strange reaction the question received from the others.

"Miss Walker's only remaining family…was her father, and he's recently deceased," Chuck explained, realizing that his own wording was awkward, trying to say too many things all at once. When Sarah had legally changed her name, Merchant would have been involved as justice of the peace. Sarah's change had been unusual, unique enough that Chuck thought Merchant would have remembered, but it was a common mistake. He only hoped his correction had been as polite as he'd intended.

"Oh, dear…um, yes, I apologize. I didn't realize. Oh, how dreadful for Miss B—Walker," Merchant mumbled, almost as if he were talking to himself. He looked up at Chuck and smiled. "How wonderful for her that she has you."

Chuck felt the emotion bubbling in his chest at the man's words. I'm the lucky one, he thought, as he nodded along.

"How long have you and Miss Walker been together?" Merchant asked, unable to tolerate a moment without conversation.

"Since they were children," Gertrude said from behind him.

"High school sweethearts? How lovely!" Merchant beamed.

"We…grew up together," Chuck clarified, but without aiding Merchant's understanding.

"Beautiful. Simply beautiful," Merchant crooned.

Chuck tried to parse Merchant's last comment, not realizing he hadn't heard the door open until he turned to see Sarah standing in the doorway.

He was gazing upon an angel. She was a visitation, otherworldly.

He only realized he had stopped breathing, and needed to start again, when he felt his head swim with dizziness.

Her long blonde hair was loose, brushed to a high, golden luster, a defiance of current fashion but so…Sarah. One one side of her head she wore a gilded comb adorned with white roses and baby's breath. It matched her pale ivory dress—luminous satin that hugged her curves and flared gently just below her knees. His eyes misted when he saw the locket he had given her for her 14th birthday around her neck. The charm bracelet he had given her for her 16th birthday on her wrist and she held a tiny spray of pink roses in her hand.

He blinked away the tears as he saw her face. She glowed, radiant, like the sun after months of rain. Her makeup was subtle, barely there; the warmth projecting from her came from her own complexion and the most brilliant blue he had ever seen shine from her eyes.

Sarah was the only person he knew who had eyes that seemed to change color, mostly dependent on her mood. The dark sapphire from the night he had last seen her, kissing her goodbye on his front step, was now transformed to a tranquil azure, the color of the sky where it met the horizon on the ocean. That color was now the color of the sky in his world…forever altered.

She looks so…happy.

He chided himself for the simplicity of that word. He was college educated, articulate, able to list 50 different, more eloquent words that meant the same thing. But happy was all that was there. The word that eclipses all the others. It was enough. So much more than enough. It was everything.

For too long, he had been a specialist in the synonyms for sadness, living through the shades of meaning of them all. He had thought them all, felt them all. His life and Sarah's life had both been riddled with the words—tragedy, despair, desolation, loss, loneliness, emptiness…the list seemed to have no end.

Except it did. Now. It ended here. Here, there was only happiness. Joy, love. All of that past was behind them, it would remain there. Their long constancy, their hope in and for one another was the solid foundation of their love, making it rock-sturdy, safe to build upon. The happiness was almost weightless, easily supported by a foundation of hardship.

He stared, mesmerized, oblivious to everyone and everything else in the room. Forgotten. A pure, radiant joy originating in her heart and shining from her eyes lit her like a beacon. Because of him. Me.

He secured that knowledge, treasuring it, holding it close to his heart. He vowed to do everything in his power to maintain her joy, knowing she had melted his glacial insides, the arctic of his parents' death and Ellie's, banishing the ice and frost forever. Nothing could change this. Nothing he had ever seen or dreamed was stronger than what he felt, now, what he knew she felt. The love imprisoned for so long, their long-suffering, mutual love, free at last from the cage societal expectation and personal misunderstanding, took wing, free, soaring, aloft.

His nerves calmed. His fear and dread, the uncertainty of the future—what he didn't know—ceased to matter. He told her nothing she could tell him would change his feelings, and he meant it.

They were part of each other. Since the day they had met, through the hardest of times, and until the last day he drew breath.

He kept his eyes on her as she seemed to glide towards him. Behind Sarah, Carina stood, smiling genuinely at her friend. Carina wore a light green dress, more conservatively cut than usual. She winked at Chuck as she took her place beside the fireplace mantle.

"You look…beautiful," Chuck whispered solemnly to Sarah, his voice full of awe.

Her eyes glistened. She smoothed down his lapel, tenderly and lovingly. He heard her swallow, her hand lingering as a nonverbal way to answer him. She was overwhelmed…and couldn't speak. He would never get used to that, never take for granted that he was the source of that feeling.

She tucked her arm through his and closed the space between them. The couple turned to face Merchant. Carina stood beside Sarah, Morgan beside Chuck. Casey and Gertrude stood to the side.

It was a civil ceremony, secular, all the sacramental rituals set aside. Merchant read from his book, the service still devout but non-denominational, familiar and pleasant words about God and love. Merchant's voice was low and monotone, comforting.

Merchant spoke; Chuck and then Sarah answered. Carina reached for something, then placed a simple gold band in Chuck's palm. Emma's wedding ring. Sarah had told Chuck she wanted to wear her mother's ring, rather than a new one. Holding his breath, he slid it on her finger.

Morgan reached across their joined hands and placed Chuck's new ring in Sarah's hand. Carina took Sarah's flowers. Sarah took Chuck's hand in hers and slipped the ring on his finger, gently pushing it over his knuckle.

"Kiss the bride, son," Merchant said, winking at Chuck.

My wife.

Sarah spread both of her hands on his chest, touching his lapels. He closed his eyes, leaned forward and kissed her. When he leaned back and opened his eyes, he saw her smile couldn't be contained. Immediately, she reached around his neck and hugged him. "I love you, Chuck," she whispered in his ear, confession and promise.

His heart swelled to bursting. He had never had Gertrude's faith, her unwavering belief in something she couldn't see. But looking at Sarah, his wife, he knew that perhaps he could, or that he should. She was a miracle, an impossible dream fulfilled, rising from the ashes of all his previous dreams. Maybe he hadn't prayed for her in so many words, but he knew that Sarah in his life was still an answered prayer. Grace.

Gertrude hugged them, tears in her eyes. Casey grunted, then shook Chuck's hand-and lightly kissed Sarah's cheek, an uncharacteristic action. Sarah seemed slightly stunned by Casey's extravagance.

The whole group stepped out into the sunshine, stood together on the stone walkway in Merchant's front yard. They were a bouquet of smiles.

Carina hugged Sarah first once they were outside, but she grabbed Chuck before completing letting go of Sarah. "I'm so happy for you guys!" she gushed with absolutely no hint of a smirk.

Morgan stood behind Carina, nervously averting his gaze. Otherwise he would have just stared at her, and knew it wasn't polite but couldn't help it. Morgan had explained this to Chuck more than once, on occasions when he had to be close to the tall redhead. "Congratulations," Morgan added as he stepped to fill the spot where Carina had stood.

"Hi, Martin," Carina said lightly.

"Morgan," he muttered, but to himself as she seemed to ignore his correction.

"What's next for Mr. and Mrs. Bartowski, huh?" Morgan asked grandly, bouncing on his feet with excitement.

Sarah still had her arms around Chuck, and Chuck felt her nearly lose her balance at Morgan's words. "Sarah Bartowski," she said, carefully rolling the words off her tongue, savoring them. "I used to write that…in my notebooks at school…when no one was looking," Sarah confessed, blushing, as she lowered her eyes. The fact that Morgan was in earshot didn't seem to matter to her.

"It's a lot harder to spell than Walker," Morgan teased.

The group meandered away, chatting happily while Sarah stayed in front of Chuck. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration. "Bartowski. I thought that. I wished that. Every star that ever fell when we watched. That I could just…belong to you, be yours. For real." She leaned against him, her emotions causing her to tremble in his arms.

"You always belonged to me… with me," he whispered. "Even when I was stupid enough to think I could let you go. And I belonged to you, with you."

She hugged him tighter, crushing him. "Don't ever let me go," she pleaded, nuzzling against his chest.

"Alright, alright, enough lovey-dovey. I'm starving," Casey grumbled. "Let's eat."

Sarah giggled, lifting her face from Chuck's chest. "Where are we going?"

"Leo's," Chuck told her. "Casey and Gertrude insisted."

Gertrude spun on her heel, beaming at them. "You can have your big wedding, cake and flowers and everyone we know as guests…when you're ready. But today, your real wedding day, we still need to celebrate!"

"Have they ever gone out for dinner?" Sarah murmured to Chuck. "I can't remember them ever doing that."

"Only for their anniversary," Chuck answered. "Casey wouldn't spend a wrong nickel," Chuck teased, loud enough for the older man to hear.

"Yeah, your wrong nickel, Kid, and don't you forget it," Casey grumbled. Gertrude swatted his arm playfully.

Laughing, Gertrude added, "Don't let that gruff exterior throw you. He's a big softy inside. And he's never been happier than seeing you married, Chuck." Gertrude turned to Sarah, her smile softening. "To the dearest girl in the world. And the love of Chuck's life."

Chuck heard the quietest of noises, a gentle sigh, from Sarah as she acknowledged Gertrude's words. Chuck snaked his arms around Sarah's waist, pulling her against him, telling her without words that Gertrude was right.

He looked at Sarah, her locket in full view as it lay nestled against her skin. "I wasn't sure you still had that," he said, tilting his chin to the necklace to explain.

She reached up, caressing the pendant's smooth surface. "Your hair is still inside," she told him, turning her head towards his ear. "I wore it everyday, hidden inside here where no one could see it." She rested her hand on her chest, embarrassed and proud all at once, indicating she had kept it inside her undergarment whenever he had not seen it around her neck.

How was I so clueless? He asked himself. But his previous thought, to leave the past in the past, surfaced again. It didn't matter how much time they had wasted or why, so long as they didn't waste anymore.

"It was one of my 'something old,'" she said, lifting her wrist to display the bracelet. "My something new is the dress," she added, stretching out both arms to emphasize the new dress she had purchased when shopping with Gertrude, one part of a small trousseau Gertrude had made sure Sarah had. "These are Carina's earrings," Sarah continued, flicking the pearl stud on her left earlobe. "My something blue…is…unmentionable," she finished, teasing him with a grin and a pun even as she blushed.

"We're burning daylight," Casey griped, motioning with his hands for everyone to move. "Save that for later."

"He's still always in a hurry," Sarah chuckled.

"Especially when food is involved," Chuck snickered back, grabbing Sarah's hand and hustling towards the car. Carina and Morgan followed.

"Morgan, you can sit up front," Gertrude called as they circled the car.

"I'm sitting next to Casey?" Morgan asked nervously.

"No, pipsqueak, you're sitting next to Gertrude…and she's sitting next to me," Casey said.

"We could…squeeze you in back here, Morgan," Carina teased, winking at him.

Morgan looked like he was going to faint at the mere thought, then ducked clumsily into the front seat. Carina chuckled with laughter at his discomfort.

Sarah exchanged a curious look with Chuck. "At least she got his name right," Chuck whispered.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

They sat at a quiet table for six in the back of the restaurant. It was an elegant Italian restaurant, the overhead lighting subdued in favor of the tabletop votives. The host who had seated them had congratulated the newlyweds, grateful that the group had chosen to celebrate their nuptials in their establishment. It was one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, well known for their authentic Italian cuisine. Chuck had only been here once before, with the Caseys, after he had graduated from high school.

This dinner was Casey and Gertrude's idea. Gertrude had spoken many times about when she and Casey had gotten married, a quick ceremony very similar to what Chuck and Sarah had just had. All Casey and Gertrude had at the time was each other, and no money, so they had gone out for coffee and donuts to celebrate. Even though something more elaborate than this dinner for Chuck and Sarah was planned for some time in the future, the Caseys didn't want today to pass without celebration, without acknowledgement.

The whole atmosphere was wonderful and relaxing. They all ate and laughed and talked. Even Morgan and Carina, an unlikely pair, enjoyed their time seated together, talking to each other. Morgan talked while mostly staring at his plate but Carina seemed unbothered by it.

In the middle of the meal, the waiter approached their table with an expensive bottle of wine. "Mr. and Mrs. Bartowski?" the young man hesitantly interrupted the boisterous table conversation.

"Yes?" Chuck asked, smiling widely again at the words.

"This is a gift from Mr. Montgomery and Miss Beckman," he said, popping the cork on the wine after he had set it on the table. The waiter pulled a note from his apron and carefully unfolded it. He cleared his throat.

"To Chuck and Sarah, a small token of our congratulations and well wishes for your new life. Remember, joy can be found even after the harshest of tragedies." The waiter smiled, looking up. Then he continued, "P.S. Your funds will be available on Wednesday. P.P.S. Between now and then, please go on an abbreviated honeymoon, courtesy of your two favorite lawyers. The details are in the envelope."

The waiter reached into a separate pocket of his apron and produced another small, sealed envelope. He handed it to Chuck.

Sarah leaned towards Chuck, eagerly awaiting the envelope's contents to be unveiled. "How did they know we would be here?" Sarah asked him.

"Merchant must have told them," Chuck explained. "I did get his name from Roan." Chuck tucked his finger inside the flap and gently ripped the envelope. He pulled out the folded paper inside. He quickly scanned it.

"They paid for four nights at the Sparhawk Hotel in Ogunquit, Maine," Chuck exclaimed, hearing Sarah gasp with excitement as she read over his shoulder. Chuck continued reading aloud, quoting the text. "It's before Memorial Day, so you'll beat the rush, but the weather is expected to be beautiful. Relax and unwind."

"Oh, that was so sweet of them," Sarah said. "I've never been anywhere but Massachusetts in my entire life."

Chuck had been to California, and seen every state in between through the windows on the train. He had been to Rhode Island when he was little, but nowhere else. Maine was a short drive, but someplace neither one of them had ever been. "Reservation starts tonight," Chuck said as he read a bit more.

"That's about a three hour drive," Casey mentioned. "You can leave the restaurant and pack and then take off."

"That's just perfect. How nice of them to do that for you," Gertrude gushed.

They finished their meals and Casey paid on the way out. Sarah and Gertrude went to the ladies' room, leaving Carina waiting with the men.

Carina stood beside Chuck, smiling at Casey and Morgan. Morgan looked away shyly and Casey rolled his eyes.

"Salvatore Cipriani," Carina whispered carefully to Chuck, a propos of nothing.

"I'm sorry, who?" Chuck asked her, keeping his voice low to match hers.

"That's who you need to talk to." She intentionally but apparently nonchalantly placed her hand over her mouth. "He's a captain for Iaconi. Shaw's boss."

It was unnerving, this difficulty suddenly intruding on his happy moment, this unexpected whisper. He knew the information had come with a steep price tag, one that Carina had already paid, but he was in no mood for thinking about that now. "I'm sure he has a booth set up on Shrewsbury Street for questions and commentary, right?" he asked sarcastically. "Why are you telling me this?" he hissed.

Carina did not react to his tone. "Because you need to get square with Iaconi, from what I hear. Let the boss know you know that Jack owes him money. It's a respect thing, old country bullshit," she said, the curse intensified by the whisper.

"I'm trying to stay away from these people, Carina," Chuck reminded her.

"I know you are. This is the safest way to do it, trust me. There's a Polish baker, Babinska. He's a childhood friend of Cipriani."

The same name as the appraiser's brother-in-law. What were the chances that the two weren't the same, or related somehow? And if Babinska was a childhood friend of Cipriani, did that mean Chuck's father had known him as well?

"Not casa nostra, but connected. When you get back from your honeymoon," she stretched out the word suggestively, with a lifted eyebrow, making him blush, "talk to him. He can get you all the information you need."

Chuck wanted to bring up Shaw's blackmail, knowing from what he had overheard on Roxanne's porch that Carina knew all about it, but he stayed silent. He had promised Sarah she could tell him in her own time, and he would keep that promise. Perhaps he could feel out Babinska. He tucked the thought away, vowing to focus only on Sarah and their impending getaway.

Four days away…and when they returned, his faltering business would be resuscitated. After that, he could get to work.

But before that, four days of Sarah, her all for him, him all for her. Nothing between them at last.

Sarah and Gertrude approached, and Carina stepped away. Fortunately, no one had noticed their hushed exchange.

"Let's go home and get you two ready for vacation!" Gertrude beamed as she hurried by, geturing for everyone to hurry.

A/N: Thanks to Zettel for pre-reading. Note: Shrewsbury Street is the main road in what used to be the Italian section of Worcester. Leo's is also a real place, where I had my wedding rehearsal dinner.