Jack Rose in hand, Sara frowned as she scanned the crowd for more recognizable people. Sara then thought she saw Wiley but was mistaken. It looked an awful lot like her brother, but the woman he held the hand of was a redhead, not blonde. So she continued to hunt down her half-brother, descending from the deck but standing apart from the party. Then, she noticed the man with the redhead on his arm was coming toward her.

"There you are!" he said, waving. "Sunshine, I've been looking all over for you!"

"Wiley?" Sara's eyes bugged out of her head. She couldn't believe it.

"Who else?" Wiley smirked. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and a baby blue button-down tee. He hadn't changed a bit. Still blonde and blue-eyed like Cecilia, built very much like Phil. He had gained a little weight but it looked good on him. Smiling, Wiley came close enough to lean over and kiss Sara's cheek. "Ah, Sara Sunshine Sidle, I'd like you to meet my lovely bride-to-be, Polexia Woulfe."

"Hello!" exclaimed the redhead. She wore a tan skirt and a sage green collared shirt. She gave Sara a pleasant smile and held out her hand. Sara took it and Polexia shook it with vigor. "I'm so happy to finally meet you! Wiley's told me so much about you and I feel honored that you're going to be taking part in the wedding party!" She spoke as if she had rehearsed these lines over and over again until she had met Sara face-to-face.

"Thank you," Sara stuttered as her hand was being pumped.

"I was at such a loss when Breeze was unable to attend," Polexia continued, "but then I remembered Wiley had a sister and thought, now that would be perfect!"

"Elizabeth's going to be a junior bridesmaid, Sophie and Megan are carrying the train, Kirya's going to be the flower girl," Wiley continued, "and Polly's nephew is the ring bearer and her sister is the maid-of-honor."

"Right, right," Polexia smiled. "We'll need to get you measured right away, but your size isn't much different from Breeze's, so adjustments shouldn't be too difficult. Just take in the bust and let out the hips a bit, but otherwise, you're perfect!"

"Thank you," Sara repeated. Let out the hips?

"You know, Wiley's told me all about what you do," Polexia continued, "and I can't wait to hear more."

"Really?" Sara raised her eyebrows, skeptical.

"Oh yeah. I find the whole forensic field mind-blowing."

"Wow. Well, thank you, I guess."

"Well, Polly and I still have some rounds to do," Wiley said. We'll see you later."

Sara was dumbstruck. She watched Wiley and Polexia walk away and Sara had to pinch to make sure she was awake. Her father had been very right. Polexia was absolutely nothing like Wiley's first three wives. It was not only the red hair, it was everything about her. Her name, for one. So far there had been an Amber, Emily and Veronica—now a Polexia? It was also her body: Polexia wasn't fat, but she was definitely voluptuous and full. Her face was round and somewhat heart-shaped. The biggest shocker was her hair. She was a redhead! The kind of shiny, dark cranberry red that one would think came from a bottle.

"I like her."

Sara turned around and saw Elizabeth, her Evil Princess gone.

"Yeah, me too. I think," Sara shrugged. "She's different."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth frowned.

Sara hesitated to say anything. "Well…she's a redhead," was the only thing she could think of at short notice.

"Oh…that. I don't know. People can change, right? Maybe Dad just got tired of blondes."

"I don't think he's tired of them," Sara put a hand on her niece's shoulder. "If he was, you and your sisters would be out of the job."

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm gonna be a junior bridesmaid."

"I know. I'm a bridesmaid, too."

"You are?"

"Why else would I be here?" laughed Sara.

A loud ringing filled the air, like a cowbell. Sara knew that sound as sure as she knew her own heartbeat: the dinner triangle. It had been at Sara's Place years before the Sidles moved in and Eavan loved it. Sara turned and saw her mother ringing it, wearing a tasteful plain white sundress with white flip-flops.

Dinner was set up buffet-style on a long table by the deck. Chicken, lamb, asparagus, fresh green beans, baked potatoes, ziti casserole, Cesar salad and Eavan's gazpacho were lined up in a delicious spread. People grabbed napkins, paper plates and plastic utensils and lined up to gather food. Sara ended up being sandwiched between Phil and Polexia in line.

"What do you think, Sunshine?" Phil asked his daughter, piling ziti onto his plate as if he was hibernating for the winter.

Sara didn't know how to respond: was her father talking about the food or her brother's fiancée?

"Great, Dad," Sara said, taking some green beans and a chicken thigh. She was willing to give up her vegetarianism for the night—the chicken smelled too good. "It's all good."

Sara sat with her parents, Wiley, Polexia, Elizabeth, Cecilia and a few people Sara did not know. Before everyone could eat, the man Sara had seen Phil chatting with earlier and was now sitting at their table, took his glass of wine and stood. He clinked his plastic fork against the glass and the chatter surrounding everyone ceased. The man cleared his voice.

"I'd like to begin by introducing myself. I'm Lemuel Woulfe, father of the bride," he beamed at Polexia and the guests murmured appreciatively. "My lovely wife Georgia and I would like to thank Phil and Eavan Sidle for their graciousness in letting us use Sara's Place for our daughter's wedding."

There was a small round of applause and Eavan blushed slightly.

"Just remember that when you see the bill!" Phil called out, earning a wave of laughter and a slap on the knee from his wife.

"And," Lemuel Woulfe continued, chuckling, "I'd like to propose a toast." Everyone raised their glasses as Lemuel spoke, "A toast to my youngest daughter Polly and her future with Wiley Sidle. May their marriage be as happy and loving as mine and Georgia's. To Polexia and Wiley!"

"To Polexia and Wiley," repeated the crowd before drinking.

Dinner conversation resumed and Polexia was eager to hear more from Sara about being a CSI.

"I hope you don't think I'm trying to suck up or anything," she said, "but I'm thrilled to actually know someone in that line of work."

"In all honesty, it wasn't even something I aspired to," Sara said, poking at her green beans. "I wanted to go into rocket science. I was a physics major. But then I got suckered into forensics by my current supervisor Gil Grissom."

"Wiley told me you used to work in a coroner's office?"

"Polly, is this proper dinner conversation?" eavesdropping Georgia Woulfe interjected, toying with the onyx pendant around her neck. Sara immediately didn't like Polexia's mother. She was a weasel of a woman with hair that was dark copper streaked with unsightly gray, making her look a bit like Cruella Deville. She had a way of looking at a person that reeked with criticism before she even opened her mouth.

"We'll keep it clean, Mother," Polexia rolled her eyes.

Sara answered Polexia's question quickly, "Yes, I started out at a coroner's office in San Francisco. That's how I met Grissom in the first place. I went to Vegas because he found himself short of staff during a case and I guess I never bothered to leave."

"You know, at one point, I considered being a CSI myself?" Polexia speared a tomato with her fork. "I devoted my entire freshman year in college to being a forensics major with a minor in criminology."

"What happened?"

Polexia sighed mournfully. "Turns out I didn't have the stomach."

Wisely, Sara nodded. "That's usually the demise to many a CSI wannabe."

"It wasn't the blood, you see. Blood I can handle." Polexia leaned in and lowered her voice so Georgia's selective hearing wouldn't kick in. "It was the decomp that did me in. They took us to a body farm and well, that was the end of me. I dropped every course the next week."

"I never got a chance to ask you," Sara separated her chicken meat from its bone, "What do you do now?"

"I'm a nurse," Polexia smiled, "in neo-natal care."

"That's a complete one-eighty from a CSI."

"I know," she replied dreamily. "But I just love working with the babies."

"Don't get any ideas, Polly," Wiley joked. "Not for another few years at least."

"Well, how long do you want me to wait, Wiley?" Polexia frowned. "I'm thirty-five. I don't want to wait much longer to have a baby."

"Polly, take it from me. Yes, you do."

"Don't tell me what I want."

"Lover's quibble," Phil whispered into Sara's ear as Wiley and his betrothed squared off.

"I've got ten on the redhead," Sara whispered back.

"Don't even think I'm going to stay home with a child, Polly," Wiley said tiredly.

"Oh, so I have to leave my job that I love because I'm the woman?!"

"Double or nothing?" Phil jabbed Sara in the ribs.

Eavan overheard and slapped her husband and her daughter each on the arms. "Don't encourage her, Phillip."

"Love-Light, I didn't say a thing," Phil smiled, calling his wife by her pet name as Sara giggled.

"And you, Sunshine, don't encourage him."

Polexia and Wiley continued to bicker for another ten minutes before dropping the subject completely. For a few fleeting moments, Sara almost hoped that they would call the wedding off and avoid being swathed in pink.

After the guests not staying at Sara's Place had departed for the night, Sara couldn't wait to undress and curl up in bed. But she couldn't, for some reason. She guessed it was excitement. It was her fist night back at home. She hadn't slept in this bed in five years. It was strange to be in a daybed. Back at her apartment in Las Vegas, she had a queen-sized bed that if you rolled off to either side, you hit the floor—hard, might she add—and there was no way out of it.

About fifteen minutes later, Sara decided her short nap in the afternoon had ruined sleep for the night. In her t-shirt and boxer shorts, Sara slid out of bed, grabbed a book and decided to read on the porch until she grew sleepy. When she did get to the porch, she found she would not be alone: her father was out there, sitting on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette. He turned when he heard Sara open the porch door.

"Busted," Phil coughed. "Don't tell your mom."

"Uh-huh," Sara smirked. "You told her you quit twelve years ago."

"What she doesn't know won't kill her. I promise. Come sit with me, Sunshine. The tobacco keeps the bugs away."

Sara took a seat beside Phil, putting her book aside. She didn't like it when her dad smoked but she was grateful for the company and she was sure Phil was too.

"We miss you, Sunshine," Phil said after a moment. "It's too quiet without you around."

"I'm sorry." Sara wasn't sure why she was apologizing but said it anyway.

"Nah. You bring the sun, you know that? That's where you get your name, Sunshine. You bring the sun, especially for your mom. She told me when we got married that wanted a lot of kids. 'At least four,' she said. But you're all we got."

Sara nodded, knowing what Phil was talking about. Eavan had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer about a year after Sara had been born and two years after that, the doctors had no choice but to remove all of her "feminine equipment", as she usually put it, to prevent the cancer that had been rapidly spreading. She would, from then on, be unable to produce any more children.

"Please tell me this visit is the start of many more in the future," Phil begged between drags of his cigarette.

Sara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Insects buzzed from the lawn and a slight wind rustled the leaves on the trees. From faraway, she swore she could smell the ocean. "Sure, Dad," Sara smiled. "I'll try to get away more often."