“I wish Granny were here,” Sabrina said.
Her father intertwined his arm into hers and together they walked to the back of the church. “I’m sure she’s watching wherever she is. She’s probably made a big dinner for your grandfather—all kind of weird blue food made from squids and daffodils. They’re sitting back taking it all in.”
Sabrina smiled at the thought. She shook off her nervousness and took a deep breath. Bradley is a good man. He is kind and loving and sweet and handsome and normal. Oh so wonderfully normal. He’s the kind of man that makes me want to throw off immortality and grow old with him. I need him. He keeps me sane.
And then she walked into the church and through a sea of smiles. There were many faces she hadn’t seen in thirteen years, and new faces she suspected masked more familiar faces. One man sat quietly licking his hand—ah, the Cowardly Lion. Mr. Swineheart and Mr. Boarman, Snow and Charming sitting next to Bunny and her seeing-eye wolf—even the Scarecrow had made it back from Oz, and there, with his shock of white hair, was Mr. Canis. As she passed, he smiled and said, “Relda would be so proud.”
And on the other side of the church, there were real, honest-to-goodness people—glorious people—who had no clue that they were at a wedding filled with magic. And at the altar was Bradley, blue eyes gleaming. He had shaved his goatee for the day. It was odd to see him without it. She barely recognized him.
The minister smiled down at her. “Who gives this woman to be married?”
“I do,” Henry said, and placed Sabrina’s hand into Bradley’s. It felt warm and comforting. Henry kissed her cheek and joined his wife and Basil in the front pew. Her brother, who was no baby any longer, standing nearly six feet tall, grinned and winked at her.
“Marriage is a journey,” the minister said. “A walk down a long, twisting road. Some days the path is clear and bright, and others, murky and mysterious. There are many bends in the road and more than a few crossroads. Today, the two of you take that road together, hand in hand, promising to all here and God himself that you will not let go of each other. Before we start, it is customary to ask the congregation to witness this union. I ask those gathered here, do you promise to support this marriage, in good times and bad, to help this couple down their road whenever possible?”
Sabrina turned to look at the audience just as they all said, “We do.”
The minister smiled. “Very good. It is also customary to ask those gathered if anyone can give cause or reason that this union should not take place. If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Sabrina cringed and looked out to the crowd once more. But no one rose. No one spoke. No one threw an egg. He was not there. He was not going to ruin her wedding. So why was she . . . disappointed?
“Very well,” the minister said. “I believe the bride and groom have written some vows they would like to share with one—”
His voice was drowned out by wings flapping like thunder above the crowd. Everyone craned his or her neck to see what the commotion was, but Sabrina didn’t have to look—she knew. When Bradley’s side of the church gasped and screamed and rose from their seats, she sighed. When Henry and Veronica scowled, and when Daphne bit down on the palm of her hand, Sabrina did not have to look up.
“It’s—it’s an angel,” the minister said, falling back in shock.
“Hardly,” Sabrina muttered.
And then “the angel” was floating down before her, the light from the stained-glass window silhouetting him in color. He was a man. No longer a boy. And he was beautiful.
“Hello, stinky,” he said with a wink that infuriated Sabrina, but not enough to stop her from grinning.
August 16
I love my backyard. It’s small and not much to look at—just a few flowers, a stone path, a birdbath, a hammock, and a shed for tools, but it is my heaven. I can spend hours here, reading, relaxing, and practicing the yoga Red and Mr. Canis have recommended for my stress. (Well, I don’t actually do that, but someday I could!)