Chapter 10


"Did I ever tell you how beautiful my wedding was, Mama? Just me and Ethan and the sun rising over the ocean and a dress that made me feel like Cinderella at the ball. It was perfect, Mama, in every way but one: you weren't there."

Theresa's recalled regret was Pilar's own, and though she had her reservations about the expediency of the hasty union Sheridan and Luis had pledged to enter into, she wasn't about to be absent yet again. Where two days before, she'd gathered with friends to mourn their shared losses, activity bustled.

"I always thought when I got married it'd be in a church, Mama, with you and Luis and Miguel there. Paloma'd be there too, and so would Papa. He'd come home to us, and he'd give me away. Ethan would take my hand—it was always, always Ethan, Mama—and he'd smile at me, and I would be so busy smiling back at him that Father Lonagin would have to repeat my name to get my attention. I wasn't married in a church, Mama, but it didn't matter. God was still there, and I could feel you there too, holding my hand when my nerves started to get the best of me and I stumbled over my wedding vows."

Sam and Grace's small but tidy yard was hardly a church, and the scattering of folding chairs lining the perimeter of a crudely approximated aisle weren't pews, but Pilar could still feel God's presence, in the brilliant blue of the cloudless sky and the banding together of those she counted as her friends and loved ones to help Sheridan and Luis see this through, down to those people in her life that defied classification, including Ivy Crane.

"I missed you, Mama. All of you. But you know who else I missed, Mama? I missed Ivy. I missed Ivy because Ethan missed her, and whatever else she might be to me, she's Ethan's mother and I know that she loves him even if I don't agree with her way of showing it."

Excusing herself from Charity and Jessica's pleasant company, Pilar made her way across the small distance that separated her from Ivy, her steady steps faltering uncertainly when, after years of mutual separation, the two women suddenly found themselves sharing the same space again.

"We disagree about so many things, Mama, but having Anna has made me realize we're not that different, Ivy and me. We both love Ethan, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I don't agree with the choices Ivy made—maybe I never will—but I understand them better now."

Skillfully applied blush could not cast away the sickly pallor of grief from Ivy's cheekbones and rose lipstick did nothing to detract from the downward tug of Ivy's lips. Only her blue-green eyes remained bright, but it was with the sheen of carefully held-in tears. She greeted Pilar with a tight nod of her head, not trusting her own voice.

"I understand them better because I'm a mother, and mothers don't always love with reason."

With the whisper of her daughter's words in her ears, Pilar inhaled deeply as the truth of them settled and took up residence within her very bones. Breaching the void the past had wrought between them, she extended her hand to Ivy.

"But you already knew that. Didn't you, Mama?"

Ivy hesitated slightly, but her reaction proved to be just the encouragement Pilar needed. Taking Ivy firmly by the hand, she led her inside, her voice softened around the edges with the pain she knew they both shared, as mothers. "Come. It will please Sheridan to know you are here."


"I thought you were supposed to wear white to weddings."

Sheridan smiled in response to the apologetic look on Grace's face and the glare of censure Kay shot Hope before dragging her bodily from the small bedroom, protesting all the way.

"What?" Hope's voice could still be heard clearly from the hallway. "It's not a real wedding if you don't wear white. Mom said so."

"I didn't…Sheridan, I hope you don't think," Grace lowered her eyes from Sheridan's frozen smile, biting her lip fretfully. Looking back up at the younger woman, she exhaled slowly and explained. "I told her that once when she said she wanted to get married in a purple wedding dress because it was her favorite color."

Sheridan's features relaxed a bit, and she smoothed her hands over the skirt of the pale pink strapless dress she'd chosen that morning (with Hank's reluctant help) in lieu of a more traditional gown. "That would have been a sight," she agreed, turning to study her reflection critically in the floor length mirror that stood in the corner of the room.

Over Sheridan's shoulder, Grace smiled and clasped her hands together. "I think you look lovely."

Turning her back to the mirror, Sheridan embraced Grace warmly. "Thank you, Grace. For everything. I know you and Sam don't exactly agree with what Luis and I are doing."

"We just don't want you to get hurt. Either one of you," Grace emphasized as she held Sheridan once again at arm's length. Over the years she'd come to regard the woman standing before her with growing affection, recognizing in the course of their knowing each other a giving, kind heart too easily and too often hurt, often at Luis's hand. She feared this arrangement they were entering into for Anna's sake spelled nothing but trouble for both of them. She knew from experience the price of 'faking' a marriage. "A wedding and a marriage are two totally different things, Sheridan. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I have to be."

"Okay," Grace gave the hands in hers an encouraging squeeze. "It's almost time."

Sheridan's smile was tremulous at best as she let go of Grace's hands and nervously smoothed her skirt one more time. "Show time."


Shoulder to shoulder with Luis, Sam watched his daughters take their seats, Kay pulling Hope into her lap and straightening the blue bow that drooped in her red hair while Jessica placed herself beside them and beckoned Charity and Miguel to join her. In the row of chairs parallel to them sat the unlikely trio of Gwen, Pilar, and Ivy. Sam felt every muscle in his body tighten with tension when Grace hurried down the aisle and slipped into the only remaining seat—beside Ivy. Keeping his expression carefully neutral, Sam muttered, "I think you're taking that attitude adjustment we talked about a little too far."

Luis's reply was terse. "I won't have Anna raised in that house. I'd marry the devil himself to keep that from happening."

Whistling under his breath, Sam gripped Luis's shoulder firmly and directed Luis's attention to a point beyond the scattering of guests. "Hardly looks like the devil to me." Quietly, he excused himself, Father Lonagin taking his position behind Luis.

Luis was none the wiser, his eyes irresistibly drawn to one person.

Like a deer ready to bolt at the first hint of danger, Sheridan stood at the end of the aisle, her blue eyes wary. Smiling at something Hank leaned over to whisper in her ear, she patted his arm gratefully and kissed his cheek before slowly making her way toward them. As she took her place at Luis's side, Father Lonagin began to speak.

"We are gathered here today…"


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