And then there was Mom, in her stiff white dress and veil in the all-important First Communion photo, and again at the beach house in Capitola at thirteen with her three brothers, and later as the high school graduate in her velvet shrug, with dark red lips and high arched brows.
Sarah reached out to touch her favorite, the photo of Mom as a slender, stunning, twenty-year-old bride just about to walk down the aisle, with the sun shining around her from the stained-glass windows behind her, silhouetting her, making her look like an angel.
“I love this one,” she said, adjusting the eight-by-ten frame. It was the picture Dad kept on his nightstand, the one Sarah used to stare at as a little girl, dazzled by the beauty of her dark-haired, dark-eyed mother in her beautiful white dress.
“I do, too,” Meg said, her voice cracking. Impatiently she reached up to wipe her eyes. “This has to stop. I can’t cry anymore today. I’ve had it with tears.”
“Me, too.” Sarah glanced toward the crowded room and beyond to the hall. “It’s been a long day. I had no idea the reception would last this long.”
“Poor Dad. He’s been surrounded all day. How does he do it?” Brianna asked.
“Must be his training, all those years as a fireman, keeps him focused.” Meg’s brow furrowed. “But what about later tonight? When everyone’s gone? I think it’s going to be hard then.”
“But I’ll be here tonight,” Brianna said. “And Tommy and Cass. They’re staying over, too.”
Meg nodded. “That’s good. Makes me feel better.”
But Sarah shot Brianna a cool look. She was glad Bree was staying with Dad for the next few days, but she wasn’t happy with her. Wasn’t sure when she’d stop being angry with Brianna for her power play when Mom was dying.
“What?” Brianna demanded, eyebrows arching as she noted Sarah’s expression.
Sarah shrugged, refusing to engage, and turned to Meg. “Can Kit manage three young kids on her own?”
Brianna groaned. “Kit’s a teacher, Sarah.”
Sarah ignored this, too.
Meg seemed oblivious to the tension between her younger sisters. “Kit’s not alone. She has Jude with her.”
“I don’t find that in the least bit reassuring,” Sarah answered. She didn’t like Kit’s new boyfriend, biker Jude Knight. Jude claimed he’d hung out with Sarah and a friend of Sarah’s years ago, but Sarah didn’t remember him and couldn’t imagine ever hanging out with someone like him. It wasn’t just his tats and piercings that put her off; it was his whole I-don’t-care-about-anyone vibe, and Sarah just couldn’t understand how kind, compassionate, bookish Kit could be attracted to someone so completely opposite her in every way. “I don’t trust him,” she added. “And we know nothing about him—other than the fact that he works part-time as a mechanic at a garage in Oakland—and frankly, I don’t think he should be around our kids until we do know more.”
“Kit adores her nieces and nephews. She’s not going to let anything happen to them,” Meg said.
Sarah didn’t have the same confidence, and her wine-fueled imagination was taking flight. “But what if he’s a child molester? What if he tries something when Kit’s not around?”
Meg glanced from Sarah to Brianna and back again. “I really doubt he’s a child molester. Jack talked to him a few days ago and thought he was interesting.”
“But interesting and safe aren’t the same thing. And we want safe around the kids.”
“Sarah’s right,” Brianna said quietly. “One shouldn’t take chances. You really never know. But, on the positive side, I do think Kit is . . . sensitive . . . to that sort of thing.”
“Okay. You’ve got me convinced. I’ll go give her a call,” Meg said, before slipping through the crowd to look for her phone.
Sarah watched Meg go, wishing she had taken Brianna with her instead of leaving Brianna here. Meg knew Sarah was upset with Brianna. Meg knew that they weren’t talking—
Oh.
That’s what was happening. Meg had just engineered this moment, leaving Brianna with Sarah, hoping that the two of them might finally talk. Sort things out. But Sarah felt far from conciliatory, and she turned away from Brianna, reaching for one of the little cards tucked in the nearest floral arrangement.
Tom, our thoughts and prayers are with you and the children. Love, the Deluceys
“Nice card?’ Brianna asked.
Sarah eased the little card back into the equally tiny envelope. “Yes.”
“Who was it from?”