Page 131 of Say You Will

She waves a hand. “Thank you, dear. You make a beautiful bride.”

She runs her eyes over me, and I force myself to hold my smile. “Thank you.”

She lifts her chin. “I won’t apologize.”

Okay. So we’re going there.

“I haven’t asked you to. You’re entitled to your opinion,” I say.

“There are challenges to marrying someone in the public eye. Even when that person is put there through no fault of her own. You’re blameless, but it doesn’t make those challenges less significant.”

I don’t smile in response. I simply watch her and wait.

Charlotte clears her throat and steps forward. Mrs. McRae lifts her hand to wave her off. Everyone is aware, now, that this may not be a “friendly chat.” Even Phee is quiet, clinging to the blue silk of Bronwyn’s vintage dress and watching her great grandmother with wide hazel eyes.

“Henry needed to be resolute. There could be no wishy-washy nonsense. He doesn’t like to be told what to do, but I would only be the first voice. I’d have been disappointed in him if he’d agreed with me.” Her mouth works before she gives a small smile. “You gave him a reason to want a real life, but it takes fortitude to go beyond the wanting to the doing. I was giving him the opportunity to stand up and be a man who deserved to be your husband.”

My own mouth opens slightly before I close it. My eyelashes flutter as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. It’s so similar to something Henry would do. A little manipulative, but, maybe, well-intentioned. I’m not sure if I believe her. Either she’s messing with me now, or she was messing with Henry then.

I can’t wait to ask him which he thinks it truly is.

“I brought you a gift. You don’t have to wear them today if you’d rather not, but I wanted you to have them,” she says.

She lifts a small jeweler’s box. When my hands are too stiff and painful to flip the lid myself, Charlotte reaches over and does it for me.

My breath catches at what I find. Diamond pendant earrings, each with at least a combined total weight of three carats, in a vintage white-gold filigree setting.

Mrs. McRae looks down at the diamond earrings fondly. “They’re your ‘something old.’ They were a gift from my parents to me on my wedding day.”

I take a shuddering breath, and Bronwyn shouts, “No. Don’t cry, yet. Your makeup.”

I laugh. “The makeup artist used waterproof, just in case.”

Bronwyn’s words successfully break the chokehold my emotions have on me, though, and I smile at Henry’s grandmother. “Thank you, Mrs. McRae. I’ll treasure them. Maybe one day we’ll be able to pass these down to one of your great-grandchildren.”

She nods. “Call me Grandmother now, girl.”

“I will.” I give her a cheeky grin. “You can call me Franki.”

“I’ll try to remember,” she says. “Feel free to remind me.”

Oh. “I will.”

I look at the earrings and contemplate how I’ll get them on my ears. “Bronwyn, could you . . .?”

She removes the pearl earrings I’d been wearing, then replaces them with the ones from Grandmother. I look in the mirror.

“Pwitty,” Phee breathes.

Another knock, and we all look to the door. Arden stands, holding his arm out to me. “Your golf carts await.”

The sun has set.

I take his arm, my flowers in the same hand, and my cane in the other. We troop outside to the row of golf carts. The guards are our drivers, and when Arden settles me on the seat with a kiss on my cheek, Ryan smiles at me from behind the steering wheel. “Nice to see you right-side-up today, Franki.”

I grin, and we set off, headlights illuminating our way, as I brace myself, my veil flying in the wind. A short drive on the winding paved road, surrounded by mostly mature oaks, lightning bugs flickering in the darkness, then Ryan pulls up at the side of the house with the terraced flagstone patios.

Ryan assists me to stand. It takes more help than I like, but I push worries about the pain aside. I have more important things to focus on.

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