Rain is supposed to mean good luck.

She can't help but smile at the thought when she notices it outside the window, as she remembers a conversation she'd had on Amelia and Owen's wedding day many years ago. It's a comforting saying, but she also can't help but think that she doesn't need 't need luck - not this time around, because the timing is finally right, and she's never felt so sure of something in her entire life.

She examines her appearance in the mirror, trying hard to keep the smile off her face. Her dress isn't quite as huge as the first one, or as simple as the second, but she loves it nonetheless, and her hair is down in pretty waves. She feels beautiful (although Jackson makes her feel that way everyday anyway) and sosure.

"Momma!"

The sound of Harriet's loud voice has April spinning round to greet her, as her daughter beams as she runs in the room, excited to show off her dress and the adorable bows in her hair.

"Ladybug! Oh, you look so, so cute. You're gonna steal the show."

She takes a moment to pick her up and kiss her on the cheek, not wanting to let go of her yet. It meant everything that she got to be here and experience this, as all she'd ever wanted for her daughter was for them to be a family. She'd been so excited to tell everyone that her parents were getting married (again).

"You look pretty momma. Like a princess!"

"Thank you, baby. You got your basket with the flowers in it?"

"Auntie Ari has it!"

"Mkay. You remember how to throw the flowers?"

"Yeah. Like this!" She makes a throwing motion up in the air with her hand, pretending that there's flower petals in it.

"Just like that! You're gonna do great." She chuckles, finally placing her down on the floor again as Amelia walks in.

"Rain is supposed to be good luck. I think you told me that once, right?" The brunette quips, causing April to not and chuckle.

"Yeah, I remember."

"But unlike me, you guys aren't gonna end up divorced...again." Amelia continues casually, before realising that maybe it was an inappropriate thing to say on someone's wedding day. "Sorry. Probably shouldn't have said that. Aaand that's my queue to leave, before I say anything else that's stupid. I'll go get Arizona."

Before April has much of a chance to tell her its okay, the neurosurgeon disappears and eventually, the blonde friend and maid of honour in question shows up instead.

"Here's your basket, your highness." Arizona says, handing the small flower-filled item to Harriet, "Ready to go?"

"More than ready."

And she truly was.