by Amy Lyon
Sara wanted to pull that coin out of Andi’s shoe and throw it into the parking lot.
Sixpence for luck, my foot.
She peeked around the corner into the sanctuary and caught a glimpse of Vivian’s deep-pink dress, which fueled her fire. But then she looked up at the altar and all her tension melted away. If someone had told her Jackson could look even more handsome than he did on a regular day, she would have waved them off. But there he was decked out in a black suit, hands crossed in front of him, looking more magnificent than ever.
Sara rubbed her hand over her midsection to calm the butterflies, which began flapping the minute she stepped foot in the church. Memories descended on her and she thought about how the church had turned against her in her greatest time of need. And her mother...
She shook her head to focus on the wedding and Jackson in front of her. She’d done a walk like this before, and thankfully this time she wasn’t the bride, but dang it if Jackson didn’t make her second-guess her decision to remain unattached for the rest of her life.
The music started and Matt slid in to stand next to Jackson at the altar while Sara waited for the signal from Dottie, who’d appointed herself processional orchestrator, to start the walk.
She glanced over her shoulder at Lily and Maggie, and behind them to the beautiful bride.
“We all good?” Sara whispered, and received three thumbs up.
Sara’s gaze lingered on Millie. The plan was to have her get up and escort her daughter down the aisle. Millie could still walk well, but when she was out of sorts, as she was today, she was more comfortable sitting.
The music changed and Dottie perked up. Two fingers shot up on each of her hands and she waved Sara down the aisle like she was directing an airplane on the tarmac.
The chapel wasn’t large by any means, so Sara caught the amusement on Jackson’s face as he watched his mother’s animated display. That handsome face was what Sara focused on as she made her way down the aisle.
She lifted her dress slightly at the stairs and took her spot next to him. They would move to their respective sides when Lily, Maggie, and the bride joined them at the altar.
Lily rushed down the aisle like a bull and Maggie glided like a princess. When they took their places next to Sara, the music changed to Here Comes the Bride.
At the entrance to the chapel, Andi reached for her mother’s arm and Millie batted her hand away.
“Oh no,” Sara hissed into her flowers.
Jackson leaned in closer. “Everything okay with Millie?”
“Not a good day,” Sara whispered.
Fancy slid smoothly in next to Millie and whispered something in her ear. The music thrummed on and Matt took two steps down the aisle toward Andi. She shook her head slightly for him to remain where he was.
Millie looked at Andi, then back at Fancy, who gave her an encouraging nod. Fancy linked her arm with Millie’s and they took a step forward.
Dottie slipped in on the other side of Andi and together The Golden Girls walked the bride down the aisle.
A bubble lodged in Sara’s throat and she blinked quickly to keep the tears at bay. She saw her cousin do the same and silently prayed for strength. For everyone.
From there, the ceremony was flawless.
Until they got to the vows.
Andi and Matt had decided to write their own. Andi fumbled through hers, pausing several times to remember her lines. As for Matt, he seemed to be hit by some sort of stage fright that was completely uncharacteristic for him in his role as a pastor of this very church.
Ultimately, he held up a hand to Reverend Gary Irvine, the lead pastor who was officiating, and pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket.
“Like a Boy Scout, always prepared,” he muttered.
Andi giggled and touched his arm. “Take your time, love. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jackson locked eyes with Sara and a sensuous light passed between them.
With the vows finished, Reverend Irvine asked for the rings. Jackson produced them quickly—so quickly, in fact, that the bands flew right out of his fingers and rolled down the steps into the aisle. He scrambled down the steps and under the first pew to retrieve them.
Sara glanced at Andi’s left shoe and seriously considered pulling it off her foot to get at that cursed sixpence. In the crowd, she caught Vivian’s gaze and locked eyes with the woman. Sara wasn’t typically an angry, get-even sort of gal, but that woman had it coming.
She refocused her attention on the exchange of rings and the dipping kiss Matt gave his new bride.
Oh, Lord, please don’t drop her, Sara thought and closed her eyes.
* * *
After the bride and groom kissed and everybody clapped, Jackson linked arms with Sara for their walk back down the aisle. She felt good on his arm.
They stopped just outside the sanctuary to watch Lily prance down the aisle behind them, followed by Maggie. Then Andi and Matt shared their first walk as husband and wife.
“I could see you in a dress like that,” Jackson said in a low voice, eliciting a gasp from Sara—the exact response he’d hoped for.
She looked up at him with those gorgeous green eyes, like two pieces of shimmering sea glass, and gifted him with a miraculous smile.
“Too bad I’m never getting married again.”
Jackson made a sound of denial in his throat. “That’s what you think.”
“That’s what I know,” she countered.
“You just haven’t met the right guy.”
Her eyebrows danced up. “Why, you know somebody?”
Jackson laughed. Oh, he knew somebody all right.
In the foyer, Felix the photographer quickly ushered them to the parking lot where the church bus waited to take the bridal party and family members down the street to the beach for pictures. The guests stayed behind with a promise of tasty appetizers and a reception in the fellowship hall.
Felix was a hoot. Sara called him “flamboyant and funny and fantastically organized,” which Jackson appreciated since he was not a fan of posing for pictures.
In a final shot under the pavilion, The Golden Girls posed with Andi, pretending to fuss over her just as they did in real life. Millie’s demeanor changed for the better and she seemed more comfortable in her surroundings, even recognizing her daughter.
“And that’s a wrap, lovelies,” Felix said. “Go have yourselves some hors d’oeuvres and we’ll meet back in the church foyer at six o’clock sharp for introductions. Then dinner, cake cutting and a little booty shaking.”
Fancy and Dottie hip-bumped each other and from her wheelchair Millie waved her arms above her head.
“That’s it, Millie, shake your groove thing,” Felix howled.
Millie stood excitedly and continued to move her arms. She didn’t seem to be dancing, though. Rather, it looked like she was waving at someone.
Jackson followed her gaze to a woman marching across the grass with an air of purpose. She had chin-length gray hair, dark-rimmed glasses and high heels that were the same light pink as her suit outfit. Vivian hustled behind her in her bolder, hot-pink outfit.
The woman looked innocuous enough, but Jackson had a bad feeling about this.
“Sally! You made it!” Millie cried.
And like twins pricked by the same needle, Sara and Andi whipped around.
Millie walked faster than he would have thought she could to embrace the woman she called Sally.
Sara took two steps back and Andi straightened, her posture forming a shield of sorts in front of her cousin.
Jackson watched with interest, knowing better than to step into the middle of family drama, but he kept a close watch on Sara to make sure she was all right.
“Aunt Sally?” Andi said.
Vivian stood behind the newcomer proudly. “I told you I had a surprise for you, Sara.”
Sara looked surprised all right. She peeked out from behind her cousin’s shoulder as if she didn’t believe her own eyes.
“Mother?” she asked. “Why are you here?”
* * *
Sara pulled off her heels and considered hoofing it back to her cottage to collect herself, but she’d never leave Andi without a maid of honor and Jackson deserved some sort of explanation.
Her mother’s ramblings about family and regrets and a fresh start turned Sara’s stomach so much that while the others boarded the bus to head back to the church, Sara side-stepped the crowd and tore off across the parking lot toward Water Street.
She thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t look back. She wasn’t sure where she was going, she only knew she needed to get there quickly.
As a pea green-colored station wagon sailed past her, Sara threw out her hand as if the cab-hailing gesture came as naturally as her next breath.
The car skidded to a stop and the driver slammed the relic into reverse. An older woman with giant, bug-eye glasses leaned over the passenger seat and cranked open the window.
“Where you headed, darlin’?” she asked.
Sara recognized the woman from somewhere, but couldn’t immediately place her as emotion roiled through her. Seeing no possibility of a threat, she pulled open the door and hopped into the front passenger seat.
“Can you bring me to Hope Presbyterian Church? My cousin just got married—”
The woman threw the car into gear and stomped on the gas. “Andi, right? To Pastor Matt?”
Sara quickly clipped her seatbelt and glanced over her shoulder at the bus. “Yes, how did you—”
“Heaven’s Helper thrift store.” She flipped her volunteer badge to show Sara.
Gloria.
“I sold you the couch and I sold Andi the dress,” she said proudly.
Sara snorted at the irony of this small town. “Of course you did.”
“And I help out every now and then at Hope Presbyterian as the receptionist.”
Sara flipped her hands out at her sides and shrugged. “Of course you do.”
Could this day get any more surreal?
Gloria veered past Ms. Icey’s and down Center Street.
“What a day,” she said with a hoot. “I can’t believe I picked up a hitchhiker.”
Sara rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t hitchhiking.”
But Gloria looked down the end of her nose at her passenger. “The heck you weren’t.”
Sara recoiled and Gloria patted her arm.
“Listen, honey, picking up a hitchhiker is on my bucket list and I’ve got a bet going with some of the seniors that I can empty my bucket before them.” She pushed her big glasses up on her nose. “So, do me a solid and don’t rat me out. Be my hitchhiker.”
Sara groaned. Had she clicked her heels wrong and wound up in a seaside version of Oz with a modern-day cast of characters?
The Witch.
She remembered the sixpence and thought about the special delivery of her mother. A common theme ran through today’s chaos. Vivian.
Out of habit, she reached to her hip to feel the comfort of her coin—a possible antidote to all this bad luck—but she’d forgotten there were no pockets in her dress. So where was her coin?
“Deal?” Gloria urged as she made a hand-over-hand motion on the large steering wheel to turn into the church parking lot.
Sara closed her eyes and nodded. “Sure. Fine. I’ll be your hitchhiker.” She clicked her seatbelt free and reached for the door handle.
Gloria grabbed her arm. “I’ve got a thought for you. A golden nugget, if you will.”
Sara glanced over her shoulder, looking for the church bus. She didn’t have time for a single thought, let alone another golden nugget. She had to collect herself before the bridal party—and her mother—returned from the beach.
But Gloria was insistent.
“Okay, shoot,” Sara said, one foot out of the car.
“Wisdom,” Gloria said, holding up her index finger. “Wisdom finds hope in the present and looks excitedly toward the future.” She waggled that crooked finger inches from Sara’s nose. “But wisdom never hangs out in the past. Wisdom is far too smart for that.”
Sara winced and swallowed hard. Over the woman’s head she saw the church bus pull into the parking lot.
“Gotta go,” she said and jumped out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”
Gloria waved. “Take care, little hitchhiker.”
Sara managed to slip into the family restroom unnoticed and clicked the door lock. She leaned on the sink for support. Gloria’s wisdom nugget was inspirational in theory, but what was Sara supposed to do when her past barreled into her present with no warning?
There was a quiet knock and Sara imagined Jackson on the other side of the door.
“Just a minute,” she said, eyeing herself in the mirror.
The second knock was more insistent.
Please don’t be my mother, Sara prayed as she held the knob and disengaged the lock.
Before she could turn the handle, the door pushed open and Andi slipped inside.
“Don’t try to hide from me,” she said and latched the door behind her.
“Andi, I’m so sorry—”
“Why are you apologizing?” her cousin asked and leaned against the door.
Sara shook her head. “Just give me a few minutes to collect myself and I’ll be the model maid of honor.”
Andi shushed her. “I’m not Bridezilla and you’re not my Barbie Doll bridesmaid. We’ve got some serious crap going on out there and I’m in this with you.”
Sara’s eyes flipped open. Her cousin never ceased to amaze her. “This is your wedding day,” Sara whispered.
“And leave it to your mother to choose this moment to drop her bomb—”
“What bomb?” With dread, Sara watched her cousin’s face.
Andi opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“What? What’s going on?” Sara insisted.
Andi exhaled hard and took her cousin’s hands. “Just be gentle with her—”
She squinted. “What do you know?”
“She’s sick, Sara. And she wants to make amends with you. That’s why she’s here.”
Sara huffed in disbelief. “How sick?” Sally Shaw was too stubborn to get sick.
“I’m not sure,” Andi said. “She didn’t go into details when she cornered me on the bus. She seemed more concerned with how you’re doing.”
Sara blinked quickly and Andi held her face in her hands. “Let them fall,” she whispered. “The pictures are done. If you need to, just let those tears fall. Let’s see if this mascara really is waterproof.”
Sara refused to let her mother do this to her. “No,” she told Andi. “I’ll be okay.”
It took some effort, but she pulled herself together and convinced her cousin she was ready to join the wedding reception. She maintained rigid control over herself through the dinner and even the toast. After that, she cleared plates and checked on guests, even though there were caterers to do that. And all the while she kept a watchful eye on her mother, managing to stay on the opposite side of the room for most of the night.
It was actually easier than avoiding Jackson, but she managed to do that, too.
He’d have too many questions.
At the end of the night, the bride and groom departed in Matt’s decorated truck with plans to leave in the morning for a five-day cruise. As they drove away, Sara saw Andi toss the sixpence out the window. It bounced once and landed in the bushes.
Sara loaded wedding gifts onto a cart and brought them out to the church bus. There was no way they’d all fit in her car. As she carried the last gift up the steps, Jackson came across the parking lot.
“Missed you tonight,” he said and followed her onto the bus. “You okay?”
She slipped by him to sit in the driver’s seat. “I’m fine,” she said, exhaling loudly.
“I know you’re fine,” he said, his eyes soft. “But are you okay?”
“I am,” she lied. “Just tired. It
’s been a long day.”
He sat in the first seat, opposite her. “I want to give you your space, but please don’t shut me out. I don’t know what’s going on here—”
“No, you don’t,” she said, shocking herself with the bitter retort.
All day she’d felt like she existed in an alternate dimension, the wonky world of Oz, but she knew Jackson wasn’t the enemy in all of this. Frankly, she was the real wicked witch. He may have had some anger issues to contend with in the military, but Sara was responsible for transgressions he couldn’t even imagine.
Her mother’s presence brought all of that back with frightful clarity.
Just as Sara stood to leave the bus and bring the cart back inside, Vivian appeared at the door with her mother, each of them carrying a gift.
“Many hands make light work,” Vivian said, clomping up the stairs and into the bus. “You forgot these two.”
Sara sucked in a breath, as well as her body, to let them by, but Sally stopped in front of her.
“I forgive you, Sara,” she said in a rehearsed tone.
Sara touched her chest. Oh God, please don’t do this here.
“I forgive you for daddy’s death,” her mother continued, handing the gift she held to Vivian. “I’ve been seeing a counselor and I realize now you were trying to help when you encouraged him to stop the chemotherapy.”
“It was killing him,” Sara spat.
“And he was dying anyway,” Sally agreed. “I wanted more time with him, but—” she put her hands together in a praying gesture “—you knew what was truly best for him. I never should have blamed you when he died.”
Sara looked down at the stairs and imagined herself shrinking to the size of a munchkin so she could push past her mother and slip down the steps. The air in the bus seemed too thick to breathe and she felt paralyzed to move.
Sally craned her neck to look into Sara’s eyes. “And Mack’s family has forgiven you for what you did to their son—”
Sara gasped and tried to push past her mother, but Sally gripped her arms and pulled her close.
“They don’t blame you anymore for his death,” she urged. “And, honey, I don’t either.”
