Luke motioned the boy to the large cabinet by the DVD player. “Come on.”
Declan's thoughts drifted to all the time he’d spent on this couch in the last few months, too overcome with grief to do more than sit mindlessly.
Now, however, life surrounded him, from Tabitha and the boys chattering about their favorite movies, to the smell of the pizza baking in the oven, to the sound of Miles putting dishes in the dishwasher, to Helen hurrying up the stairs as Laney chirped to signal that she was awake.
He smiled up at Marissa as she drew closer with a glass of water in one hand and a little white pill in the other. He wanted to believe this was all just because enough time had passed, but he had a feeling it had more to do with the woman who had recaptured his heart.
Marissa sat beside him, offering him the water and then the pill. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Just a penny?”
She shrugged. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just keep them.”
Declan pulled her close to him, his discomfort nothing compared to how much he needed her here beside him. Fortunately, she didn’t protest, just turned ever so slightly so she could sit close to him and still face him. “I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have you back in my life, my sweetheart of old.”
She blushed. “Sounds like something out of a wedding rhyme. Sweethearts old, sweethearts new, sweethearts borrowed, sweethearts blue.”
“Sounds nice. Impossible to collect at the same wedding, but nice.”
She ran a thumb over his jaw, the only part of his face that didn’t hurt after the accident. “I’m lucky to have you back in my life, too, Declan Pierce.”
He brought his other arm up around her, letting her snake her arms around his torso in a loose embrace. Yes, for the first time in a long while, things were looking up.
Chapter Thirteen
Marissa
Marissa swallowed as Aiden pressed the doorbell, his dominant hand still tied up in a sling. Declan opened the door, most of the cuts on his face and arms healed in the three weeks since the accident.
She leaned in and kissed him, careful not to bump Aiden with the case in her hand. “Are you sure you want me here today?”
Declan caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “It was your idea. You should be here.”
She shifted out of his embrace as the rest of the family joined them in the entry hallway of Declan’s home: Helen, Miles, Angie’s brother Liam, Angie’s sister Andrea who’d flown in from New York for the small family gathering, Tabitha, and Luke.
It was hard not to feel like they were all wondering why she had come on the first anniversary of Angie Pierce’s death.
Declan closed the door behind her. “Uh, Marissa, Aiden, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Marissa and her son Aiden.”
Marissa managed a slight wave, using her trusty black brown canvas case as a bit of a shield between herself and the rest of the group, as Declan helped remove her coat.
Andrea, no older than twenty-three or twenty-four, with the long, lithe body of a dancer ducked out of sight, and Marissa wondered if it had been too much for Angie’s younger sister to see Declan greet his new girlfriend.
“Oh, Marissa. It’s so good to see you again.”
Marissa looked up with a bright smile as Declan’s mother descended the stairs with Laney in her arms. “It’s good to see you, too, Mrs. Pierce.”
The curvy matriarch leaned in and hugged Marissa before she let Laney onto the floor. “Oh, you stop all that Mrs. Pierce nonsense. It’s Linda. Mrs. Pierce was my mother-in-law.”
Marissa exchanged a glance with Declan who, despite his solemn mood, chuckled as his grip on Marissa’s waist tightened.
Jack Pierce, Declan’s father, emerged from the living room. “Been a long time. How’s your family?”
Thoughts of Garrett and Steven sapped all the joy out of seeing Declan’s parents again. “As well as can be expected. How about you?”
The gray-haired Irishman offered her a somber smile. “Can’t complain. If you’ll excuse me?”
Marissa nodded as Jack pulled his wife into the living room, chatting about some task which had apparently been delegated to them.
Liam walked over to Declan and whispered something about a sandwich platter.
Declan leaned close to Marissa’s ear. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”
Marissa just nodded as the family bustled in a dozen different directions.
Helen and Miles ducked into the kitchen, likely handling whatever refreshments Declan had authorized.
Luke took Aiden by the hand and walked him into the living room, the solemnity of the day even rubbing off on the exuberant boy who’d turned five a week ago, the day before Halloween.
A small hand warmed hers, and Marissa looked down, surprised to find Tabitha beside her. The girl offered her a sad but welcoming smile. “Come on. I’ll show you where to put your violin.”
They walked into the living room, and Marissa stopped as she caught sight of a photo of a beaming blond woman dancing with a tiny girl, only four, in the sprinklers on a bright summer day.
“That’s my mom.”
Marissa glanced down at Tabitha, grateful that the animosity which had once stood between them had ebbed somewhat since Declan’s accident. “She’s beautiful. It looks like she loved you very much.”
Tabitha didn’t take her eyes off the photo. “I miss her.”
Marissa studied the girl and then the photograph a little longer, an idea forming in the forefront of her mind. “I bet if you asked your dad, he’d let you keep this picture of your mom in your room.”
Tabitha’s eyes widened, brightening with the first ray of hope Marissa had seen in her. “Do you really think so?”
“Can’t hurt to try, can it?”
Tabitha squeezed Marissa around the waist. “I think my mommy would have liked you.”
Marissa’s eyes moistened as she patted the girl’s back. “I know it’s difficult when things change, but you’re doing a marvelous job handling it with grace and poise. I think your mom would be proud of how you’re keeping your kindness even when it’s hard.”
Marissa leaned in as if telling the girl a secret. “I know I am.”
Tabitha’s cheeks pinked. “Thank you.”
Declan rested a hand on Marissa’s back, and she stood as the rest of the adults walked into the room. “Time?”
He nodded. “You ready?”
She glanced down at her violin case. “Are you sure you want me to play? Today’s about Angie, and I don’t want—”
The pleading in his eyes silenced her, his hand gripping her arm as he steeled himself. “Please.”
She bobbed her head in acquiescence. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Eventually.” He motioned with his chin toward the couch. “Have a seat. We’ll get started in just a minute.”
She squeezed his fingers once to offer him some miniscule comfort before he began.
“We were going to do this at the cemetery, but with the snow, we thought we’d move it. Thanks for coming.” Declan cleared his throat. “We have nothing formal planned, but Marissa suggested—and I agreed—that we should start a tradition of having a family get-together where we think about Angie and what she meant to us. Share stories so we never forget her. Admit how much we miss her. I’ve asked Marissa to play one of Angie’s favorite songs while we each take a moment to think of what we want to share today.”
Her stomach knotting itself in nerves, Marissa removed her violin from its case and stood off to the side of the living room.
Aiden threw her an encouraging smile, and she was grateful for the support in the sea of Angie’s relatives.
Marissa did a quick check that the strings were in tune before she closed her eyes and began. The music swept her away from this awkward, strained family gathering and to a world where the only language was emotion in the form of sound. Tension. Release. Agitation. Peace. A heavy groan. A lighthearted sig
h.
The music excised something within her, a weight she’d been carrying around so long that she had almost forgotten it was there. Strange how in honoring Angie, she was strong enough to silence the demons in her own soul. The ones which belittled her for giving up her musical gift. The ones which accused her of causing her parents’ car accident with that last argument with her father.
She wasn’t going to give up her job to become a professional musician or anything, but she would not let her memories stop her from finding joy in this instrument.
She let the last note ring and then fade in the house's silence, the catharsis complete.
It was too solemn for clapping, but the look on Declan’s face as he whispered a private thank you was more potent to her than a standing ovation in Carnegie Hall.
Declan fiddled with his wedding ring as he stood up in front of the living room’s wide picture window. “Angie would have loved that. Anyway, now we get to share some of our favorite stories. I guess I’ll start. Uh, Angie made me laugh at a time in my life when I thought I didn’t remember how. I’ll never forget how we met. I’d gone to an open mic night with a friend of mine, and he wanted to talk to this girl at the next table over...”
Declan told a story that had the group laughing, even little Tabitha covering her mouth as she tried not to laugh.
Marissa looked over the group, seeing them through fresh eyes. This singular woman’s love had brought this family together. Marissa would only get to know this woman through photographs and anecdotes, but it was a privilege that these people who had loved Declan’s first wife so fiercely would welcome her as openly as they had.
For an instant, she could almost sense someone seated beside her on the arm of the couch as Declan told his story. Before she could analyze it, a thought found its way into Marissa’s mind, a gentle voice which didn’t belong to anyone she knew. Thank you for taking care of him. For taking care of all of them.
Though tempted to disregard the thought which seemed to come from Declan’s first wife as wishful thinking, Marissa just swallowed, feeling a sisterhood with a woman she’d never met because they’d both loved the same man. Watch over them when I can’t? And if it’s not too much trouble, tell my parents I love them?
The presence dissipated, but not before Marissa felt it smile on her.
Declan caught her eye, and that love for him she’d been so loathe to acknowledge even just a month before expanded until she thought her heart might burst. Her thoughts flickered to her mother’s wedding dress, tucked in the back of the guest room closet. Maybe, just maybe, she’d finally found the man who would convince her to wear it for him.
Epilogue
Seven Months Later
Cassie
Dr. Cassandra Lambert flicked away a tear as she waved goodbye to the newlyweds. Funny how a story that started twenty years ago could still have a satisfying happily ever after today. Especially given all the adversity that the two had undergone in the last couple of years.
Through the rear windshield of the stretch limousine the Lambert siblings had secured, Cassie watched Marissa, in their mother’s wedding dress, lean in for a kiss from her new husband, Declan. Even from here, Cassie could see how the newlyweds melted into one another, giving new meaning to the phrase “becoming one.”
She’d had a front-row seat over the last few months as Marissa grew increasingly more content and confident in herself in the renewal of her high school romance. It had given Cassie hope that there were still some wonderful guys out there interested in the same forever kind of love she wished for.
Cassie gave a content sigh as she turned back toward the church. “It was such a beautiful wedding.”
Someone snorted behind her, and she searched the crowd for the offender. It didn’t take long. All she had to do was find the man rolling his eyes in the sea of wedding guests.
Anger flared in her. Who was this guy, and what was he doing ruining her sister’s wedding? “You don’t like weddings?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t mind them, but that phrase is such a cliché. Beautiful wedding. Like someone’s going to get married surrounded by garbage cans and fish guts.”
She glared at him, but he just grinned as if he took pleasure in how strongly she disliked him. “Why would anyone even suggest getting married in such a place?”
“Exactly my point. Everyone knows that every bride has the details planned since she was five years old. Weddings are supposed to be frilly and sentimental. So, why does everyone feel like they have to comment? I mean, it’s not like they would actually tell anyone if they thought a wedding was planned in bad taste?”
Cassie stormed up to him. He was a good eighteen inches taller than she was, and it insulted her pride that she had to crane her neck to catch his eye. “Maybe people aren’t talking about the decorations when they say that the wedding is beautiful. Maybe they’re saying that love is beautiful, that this union of two hearts is beautiful.”
The blond man snickered. “So, it’s just propaganda? Trying to convince the younger generation that all this love and heart stuff is worth it? That they should just turn their hearts over to the first person who asks for it? That seems a little undignified.”
Cassie clenched her fists. If this man kept talking, she was going to sock him. “You must be from the groom’s side because I know you’re not from the bride’s. No one in our family’s that cynical.”
“You sure about that, sister?”
She fumed. “How dare you—”
He leaned in close as if he were sharing a secret with her. “You think because you’re the bride’s sister that you know everyone she invited to the wedding? Or do you think because you’re in everyone’s business that you know everything about them?”
Cassie rocked onto her tiptoes and thrust a finger into his face. “For your information, I’m the maid of honor—not just the bride’s sister—and as such, I know exactly which family members to expect from our side of the family. And I’m not in everyone’s business. They happen to trust me.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” The skepticism rolled off him in waves as he tried to pass his comment off as casual.
She narrowed her eyes at him as if she were focusing a laser blast to take him out. Which sounded pretty appealing right about now. “So, are you a wedding crasher or are you from the groom’s side?”
Her words must have caught him by surprise because he stared at her a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. “A wedding crasher? Honey, this party’s too small to have any real crashers, but it’s a decent idea. I mean, the atmosphere’s a bit sentimental, but the food’s not bad.”
Cassie’s blood pressure skyrocketed, and for a moment, she imagined smoking billowing out of her ears before her brain exploded. “Answer the question or I’m calling security.”
Though she was bluffing about the security, that must have been the secret word to get the man’s cooperation.
“Technically, I’m from the groom’s side, but it’s a little complicated. What side of the church are you supposed to be on if you’re the groom’s in-law?”
Cassie’s jaw dropped as everything clicked into place—his apparent disdain for this celebration, his eagerness to provoke her to anger—he was here because Declan’s first wife had been his family member. “You’re one of Declan’s in-laws?”
“Brother-in-law, to be precise.” He extended his hand. “Major Liam Harris, USAF.”
Cassie didn’t take his hand, only stepped back as she eyed him warily. “Dr. Cassandra Lambert, and I want to know how you think your sister would have liked your performance just now.”
Liam chuckled. “She would have found it hilarious. A bit out of taste, perhaps, but not without merit.”
Cassie frowned. “If that’s how you really feel, why did you come to the wedding in the first place?”
Liam stuffed his hands in the pockets of his charcoal suit, looking like an overgrown child who felt out of place. “Declan invite
d me. I guess he thought he owed me.”
Cassie raised an eyebrow. “Owed you?”
For one brief moment, the coarse, obnoxious Neanderthal she’d been verbally sparring appeared bashful. Then, his modest smile settled into an all too smug smirk. There he was—the real Liam Harris—out to play again. “I’m the reason they met at the reunion in the first place.”
Cassie crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one leg. “How do you figure that?”
He shrugged. “He wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t offered to watch his kids.”
Cassie shook her head. This was going to be too good. She could see the way to pierce his over-inflated ego once and for all. “Well, going to the reunion wouldn’t have done anything to boost his social life if I hadn’t strong-armed my sister into going.”
Instead of fighting her, Liam grinned. “I guess we’re quite the team, Miss Cassie. Your sister found true love with my brother-in-law, and we can take the credit.” He glanced around the room. “Who should we set up next?”
She punched him in the arm.
She’d expected him to curse at her, to call her names and show who he really was. Instead, he rubbed his arm where her fist had made contact. “That wasn’t nice.”
She almost felt bad. If he’d yelled at her, she would have felt justified, but the non-response was worse. When had she become the unreasonable one here?
She huffed to mask her shame. “Neither was claiming credit for bringing two high school sweethearts back together when they’re the ones who did all the hard work.”
He quirked an eyebrow upward. “And it was worthy of violence?”
“This isn’t about you, Liam. This is about Declan and Marissa.”
“I don’t hear them complaining.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “That’s only because they’re already gone, but you could at least show a little respect.”
He threw back the remnants of a drink, leaving the crystal on the table beside him. “Well, this has been fun, but I think I’m out.”
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