“What happened when you and I started to become us was the next miracle. I began to live a dream because you enhance everything. Even a New York skyline. With you I saw for the first time how the windows of the Carlyle gleam like orange jewels at sunset. You taught me that if I close my eyes on the Highline, it smells like a poppy field in Tuscany. I’ll never forget how we went for an early-spring run once, and it suddenly started snowing big fat flakes, turning Central Park into our own private snow globe. And then, when I whispered ‘Rosebud,’ you got it—you really got it! The world with you is exciting, whether it’s a Bowery sidewalk or the ?le de la Cité. I can’t wait to see what magic you work on Iceland when we get to Reykjavík tomorrow.” Rook paused while quizzical murmurs of “Reykjavík?” spread across the lawn.
“We have so much in common. We like the same wines, we’ve read the same books, and now, we share the same home. We’ve even shared a bullet. How many newlyweds can say that?” He tugged at her hands and felt compelled to kiss her but waited. That would come.
“I owe a lot to Ernest Hemingway.” He addressed the guests and said, “Don’t ask, long story.” Then he gazed at his bride. “Hemingway once said, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’ I’m no Hemingway, but I would add, ‘And the best way to tell if you love somebody, is to have it be Nikki Heat.’” He unexpectedly choked up, then proceeded.
“And now I, Jameson Rook, promise my eternal love to you, Nikki Heat. Simply, completely, and unconditionally. Until death do us part.”
They mouthed a silent I love you to each other, and Nikki took her turn.
“We met through our work and ended up partners in crime. And now, here we are, about to become partners in life. Yes, we did share a bullet, but we do share much more. Like a belief in goodness, in people, in laughter, in friendship, but most of all, in each other. What we didn’t already share when we met, I have learned from you. You have shown me that things are never as far as you thought, nor as impossible as they seem. And that fools drive, lovers enjoy the ride.
“Our ride has been unconventional to say the least. Just surviving to get to this moment was a minor miracle. But just when I thought I couldn’t get any closer to you, or feel more certain of our marriage, that experience created a bond nothing will ever break.
“I, Nikki Heat, stand before you and everyone I care about…” She paused and swallowed hard. He gave her a nod of encouragement, and she continued. “And one who could not be here…to promise that I will always love you, Jameson Rook. I will always be there for you. I will be your friend, and, yes, your partner in crime forever. As every moment from this day forth becomes the time of our lives.”
Rook beamed as he slipped the wedding band on her finger. Nikki’s radiant eyes barely left his as she put the ring on him.
The judge said, “By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He didn’t have to tell them to kiss.
Heat and Rook had already found each other.
It’s 2:00 A.M., and here I sit, too pumped to sleep, still buoyant from receiving that Career Achievement Award at tonight’s big Poe’s Pen ceremony and, frankly, unable to wake her up. Oh, well. Picture, dear reader, my bespoke tux jacket on the floor, bow tie undone, and a rocks glass of the Irish at hand with no cubes to spoil the amber magic. Yes, it was all very heady tonight. The Poe’s Pen statuette, the gracious words from the award presenter, the great Michael Connelly, the bloodred carpet…But, in truth, it was the faces—the gathering of all those who are so close and so dear to me around that table of honor as I looked out from the podium—that meant the most, the chance to toast those who made it all possible.
So while I’m in a toasting mood (and who knows, afterward, in the mood for dancing the Time Warp), let me lift an aged spirit to all those who once again proved that these puppies don’t write themselves. It all begins and, hopefully, never ends with Kate Beckett, my inspiration, my teacher, my lover, my bestest friend…for the time of our life. The crew at the Twelfth Precinct rocks it, and is my rock. Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan, my only regret is that I could never coin a portmanteau for you. Espry? Javin? How about “buds”? Victoria Gates continues to let me run rampant, and for that I am grateful, as ever.