Madonna, what did I do? Mariah sat at the edge of the bed and shivered slightly. I got married! To Miranda. Miranda and I are married. Wow, she thought. I can't stop smiling.
She rolled her shoulders, wondering why they felt odd, only to realize a moment later that the unaccustomed sensation was relaxation. For the first time in days, maybe years, she wasn't stressed out.
Miranda's absence from the bed wasn't unexpected. Her wife... her wife! ... was an early riser, having often commented that she needed less sleep than most people.
Well, Mariah thought, I should get up and start my day.
Of course, she didn't really have any plans. Everything over the past few months had been related to the wedding somehow. That done, and university behind then, they didn't really have anything they needed to do right now. At some point, she thought, they'd need to figure out the next steps of their life together, but for right now, they had time to relax and enjoy themselves.
I guess, she thought, I should go find my wife.
"Hey, you're up," Miranda called brightly. "I'm making French Toast."
"... in the nude," Mariah pointed out, a little stunned.
"Well, you were sleeping," Miranda replied. "I didn't want to disturb you, and I didn't want to get dressed in the dark. So..."
"So, you decided to make French Toast... naked," Mariah said, shaking her head.
"Why not," Miranda laughed, deftly flipping the toast in the pan. "It's not as good as mom's but I make pretty good French Toast."
"Just don't burn yourself," Mariah said earnestly.
"That's why we're not having bacon," Miranda smiled.
"Of course," Mariah laughed.
"Good?" Miranda asked as they dug into plates of warm battered bread.
"Fantastico," Mariah replied honestly. "Easily as good as your mom's. You are a marvelous cook, mia amata. This is... magical."
"Thanks," Miranda smiled. "Though conjured food never tastes as good," she mused, reminding Mariah that her wife could, in fact, call a meal out of thin air with the magic she rarely used. "At least mine doesn't. I'd rather cook anyway."
"So, mia bellissima strega, what shall we do today?" Mariah smiled back.
"I thought we could go into town," Miranda said, "just enjoy the day."
"Si," Mariah nodded. "But first, you need to get dressed."
"Well, if you insist," Miranda laughed.
------------
"Torte! Pasticceria! Fresca e calda!"
"I don't know how you stayed so skinny, living in Tartosa," Miranda commented. "I feel like I'm gaining weight just smelling all these wonderful pastries."
"Jogging, swimming, stress, petty theft," Mariah replied with a sheepish grin.
Honestly, she felt like she'd never really taken advantage of living here when she did. She'd been too busy being an angry teenager to enjoy it all. Now, with this beautiful woman... her wife... she was finally ready to.
The cake was really good... moist, delicious and decadently sweet without being overwhelming. The silliness of sharing bites of it with each other somehow made it taste even better.
"Fiori! Fiori bellissimi per una bellissima signora!" The flower-seller called.
"For me?" Miranda asked with a pleased smile.
"Well, you know," Mariah blushed. "Like the guy said... beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."
"When did you get so corny?" Miranda laughed.
"I know, I suck at this mushy stuff," Mariah muttered.
"I love it," Miranda smiled. "I love you."
"Amore! Amore!"
So, this was happiness, Mariah thought. After the fear and pain and anger of her teen years. After all the trouble, the nightmares and the pain. After monsters and gangsters. This was happiness.
Her cynical side whispered that it couldn't last, that there were no Happily Ever Afters. Not really.
With iron will, she told her cynical side to sit down and shut up. Of course it wouldn't last, but she was going to enjoy this moment. This one bright, shining moment of happiness.
------------
"There she is," Carla G smiled cruelly.
"What about the other one," one of the local toughs asked.
"Do whatever you want to her," Carla sneered, "but Mariah is mine. Time to give her a little wedding present from the Altos."
