“Hey, Mom.” I picked a few blades of cold grass. “William gets married tomorrow.”
I wasn’t sure if they’d make it—William and Bridget. Sure, they loved each other madly now. The question was, was it the kind of love that would flame hot and fizzle, or would it grow throughout the years? Like George said, it was impossible to know. I still wasn’t sure if Bridget had really been visiting with a friend that evening or if something more had been going on. But that was a moot point. What mattered was that William had chosen the woman he was willing to risk his heart with. All I could do was pray that he’d chosen correctly.
“I wish you could be there,” I whispered.
I sat for a while longer, until the wind grew too sharp and the chill too crisp. My frozen fingers reminded me of last Saturday, almost an entire week ago now. I sent Nate that e-mail on Monday, and so far I hadn’t heard back from him. His silence spoke volumes. With a long sigh, I got back on my feet and made my way to the car. The county cemetery was mostly deserted, so the lone, hunched figure standing in front of a tombstone not too far from my vehicle stood out like a shining beacon. The old man had his head bowed, a hat in his clasped hands, a cane resting against his hip, his posture so familiar I did a double take. “George?”
He looked up.
And sure enough, it was him, standing at a tombstone surrounded by bouquets. I took a few steps closer, peering at the name on the stone.
SYLVIA STOCKDON
BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER
BORN 1927
DIED 1996
My eyes widened.
“Well, Miss Amelia, it sure is a fancy seeing you here.”
I looked between him and the polished marble. All this time—all this time he’d been coming into my shop to buy his wife bouquets?—she’d been gone. “I had no idea.”
“Oh, I don’t see why you would. I’ve never gotten used to talking about her in the past tense. I’m not sure if I ever will.” He twisted his hat. “She’s been gone almost twenty years now, and there’s not a day goes by I don’t miss her fiercely.”
I understood. More than he knew. Only the ones I missed were my parents.
“You know what I always think about, though, when I stand out here?”
“What’s that?”
“All the pain of losing her? I’d experience every last drop of it all over again for one more day.” He gazed at the ground. “One more dance with my lady.”
The words brought tears to my eyes. “Hey, George?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you be my date tomorrow for my brother’s wedding?”
“A wedding and a pretty gal? Now that’s an offer I could never refuse.”
I kissed his pouched cheek, told him I’d see him at the chapel on the square at two thirty tomorrow afternoon, and left him alone with his memories. When I sat inside my car, I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed Nate. He’d given me his number when we shared coffee at Patty’s. I had been too flustered to write it down after his earlier message on my answering machine. Nerves jumped around in my belly as the phone rang in my ear. I wasn’t sure what made them bounce faster—the idea of him picking up, or the idea of him letting the call go to voice mail. When a recording sounded in my ear, I deflated in my seat.
“Hi, Nate? It’s Amelia.” I inhaled a rattled breath. “I wanted to let you know that I understand. I get why you haven’t e-mailed me back. Our relationship would have been a complicated one. I wanted to apologize one final time—for not telling you about Matt once I realized Chelsea was your sister. I guess I couldn’t figure out how to get the words out. I’m not sure if that’s ever happened to you or not. And I also wanted to say thank you. For the e-mails. For the advice. For the friendship. They made a pretty fall in Mayfair even prettier, and for that, I will always be grateful.”
The floorboards creaked beneath my open-toed orange pumps as I made my way to the back room of the small chapel. The ceremony would begin soon. The pews were getting full. And since the bride and groom had already seen each other for pictures, I asked them to meet me back here ten minutes beforehand. The satin of my navy-blue dress swished as I walked. Bridget had chosen knee-length A-line dresses for her bridesmaids—a classy cut that I probably could wear again. It looked gorgeous with the bouquet of orange ranunculus I held in my hand.
I stopped before the doorway and took a deep breath, then poked my head inside. The site of William and his bride-to-be made that same breath swoosh away. He looked absolutely dashing in a charcoal tux, and Bridget . . . Bridget was stunning. She wore a V-neck mermaid cut chapel train dress with gorgeous beadwork and a bounty of lace and held a bouquet of white ranunculus. She truly was radiant with charms.