by Cecy Robson
I step aside so they can see what I’m seeing. Mateo and Evie’s place is an entertainer’s dream. Beautiful pool with a waterfall and Jacuzzi built in, a fire pit and bar area, and artistic landscape that would shame most royal gardens. But this afternoon, it’s become something more.
What has to be thousands of clear Christmas lights and streamers of white silk fabric woven through tall wrought iron posts create an arc, transforming the yard into a fantasy world.
To our right, a small collection of chairs separated by an aisle lead to a gazebo, brightly decorated with more lights and sprays of white flowers.
My first guess is that Teo and Evie are renewing their vows. They’re one of those couples who will always be in love no matter how old they get. I turn to Teo and Evie, grinning, pausing when I realize they’re dressed more like guests in their own home, not a bride and groom about to get re-hitched.
Teo places his arm around Evie and hoists his youngest daughter on his hip. They return my smile, but there’s something else there, a sadness I don’t expect. I can’t put a finger on what’s happening until Declan steps onto the terrace dressed in a slick, black suit. His expression mimics Teo’s; strong, happy, and a little sad, too.
“Hi,” Declan says. He looks around, taking each of us in. Declan isn’t like the rest of us. He’s what you call polished and one of those men you always knew could be president. We used to joke that Ma swapped him out for a Kennedy at the hospital. A born politician and leader, and the youngest Distract Attorney in American history, we always knew Declan would change the world. You’ll never see Deck sweat. You won’t see him panic. But for once, my supposedly dashing brother with the blond wavy hair and stately appeal, struggles to find his words. We quiet, all of us, even the little ones who aren’t so young they don’t know he has something important to say.
“We’re not certain how much time Miles has,” Declan begins. He smiles, the way all men do when they have to share bad news along with the good. “Because of his illness, but mostly because I love her, Melissa and I are getting married today.”
If Declan had only shared the news about marrying Melissa, we’d lose our shit. Out of everything Declan has done, nothing compares to the happiness Mel brings him. Except this thing with Deck and Melissa was never normal from the start. It was filled with a lot of love, sure, but enough sadness to dull our smiles.
Like an obedient group, instead of a loud and insane one, we part, allowing Declan through when he walks toward Ma. He pauses briefly when he reaches her, taking her hands in his.
I always pictured Ma as this giant being, one who could take on Godzilla if he ever had the balls to mess with our family. For the first time, I see how small and delicate she really is, and what a lifetime of hard work and raising seven kids did to her.
“I’m sorry for not getting married in the church,” Declan tells her softly. “If Miles makes it through, I promise you we will.”
Ma lifts her hand and places it on Declan’s cheek. “God will understand and so do I, dear boy.”
Their moment is brief, but enough to fill our hearts.
Declan bends to kiss Ma’s cheek, “Thank you, Mama,” he says, releasing her carefully. Almost as slowly as my next breath comes, he turns to Curran.
“Will you stand at the altar as my best man?” Declan asks him.
Curran doesn’t answer, staring back in shock.
“Are you sure?” Curran asks.
“If you’re not available, I could always ask Wren.”
We bust out laughing, even Wren, as she flips Declan off behind Ma’s back.
The small smile Declan manages quickly fades. “I have many good men to choose from,” he says, his gaze stopping on each of us, exchanging words that go unsaid like only brothers can. “Today, I choose you.”
Curran nods, shaking Deck’s hand firmly and clapping him on the shoulder. We watch, none of us able to move until Evie whispers something to Tess that widen her eyes.
“Stay with Aunties Sofia and Sol,” Tess tells her girls.
As Tess and Evie take off into the house, Sofia and Sol reach for my nieces before they can fuss.
Slowly, in what feels more like a funeral procession than a promise of “I do,” we walk down the stone steps. I don’t realize I’m the one leading Allie or how close I’m holding her until we reach the yard, my steps heavy as we trickle to our seats.
I sit when Allie does, watching as Teo escorts two violinists and a cellist to the gazebo. The moment the trio settles, they begin to play the Ave Maria. I don’t know what I should feel, pride, happiness, maybe misery? Deck and Melissa aren’t racing down the aisle because he knocked her up or because they’re so in love they can’t wait. They’re rushing because Mel’s father could be dying, and they want him there to see his little girl marry the one man who’ll be able to take of her when he’s gone.
I feel numb. Maybe Allie can guess and gives my hand a squeeze. I’m not sure how her hand ends up in mine. It just appears, right where it should be.
Wren and Evan are sitting in front of us. She looks around, taking in how elegant, yet subtle, the decorations look. “How long did it take you to put all this together?” Wren asks Evie when she and Teo sit beside them.
“Two days,” Evie replies. “But I had a great deal of help. Do you like it?”
Wren sighs, using her fingertips to wipe the corner of her eyes. “It’s perfect, Ev.”
Evie smiles, blinking and releasing a few tears of her own. I look away for a sec and let out a breath. Man. How am I going to get through the ceremony without looking like a blubbering fool?
“I wanted to do something nice for them,” Evie admits her voice breaking.
Teo drapes his arm around Evie. “We owe him,” he says, stroking his baby girl’s hair away from her brow before he sneaks a glance toward the house.
Allie and I turn in the direction Teo’s attention drifts to. She doesn’t know Teo’s family or anything about what they’ve been through. She quietly observes the interaction between Teo’s sister, Lety, her husband, Brody, and Melissa’s father, Miles.
Miles is sitting quietly on the patio leading out from Teo’s full-finished basement. Lety is doing that smile thing women do, when they’re trying to be brave and can’t quite manage. She laughs at something Miles says, not that it stops the tears spilling from her eyes. She bends and kisses his cheek, wiping her eyes as Brody shakes his hand.
Brody leads Lety forward, his hand pressed against her lower back. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since learning she’s pregnant with twins. It’s also the first time I see Brody without some semblance of laughter ready to erupt deep from his chest.
I nudge her a little as she passes. She grins at me and ruffles my hair, something I used to do to her when she was just a little kid with a big attitude. Given the atmosphere, I don’t think it will be the last time we’ll smile, or maybe even cry. But life is like that, sometimes giving you one hell of a blow one minute then making you laugh through the pain the next.
“Are you all right?” Allie asks.
I lift her chin and kiss her lips. I can’t help myself, just like I couldn’t help myself the other night. I want to feel close to her, I guess. There’s a good number of us around, but everyone has someone, even Ma, who’s surrounded by her small herd of grandchildren. If it wasn’t for Allie, I’d be all alone.
Finn called me old. Maybe I am compared to him. But God willing, I have decades left. That doesn’t seem to be the case for Miles.
Miles was a big guy when I first met him, tall with a decent gut that used to hang over his belt. Now all the pudge he had is just loose skin, dangling from a frame that no longer stands as tall or gives a hint of strength hidden beneath. I don’t tell Allie. But it’s like everything I’m feeling, she understands. She wipes a tear and smiles softly, leaning into me when I sling an arm around her.
From the gazebo, the trio switches from the Ave Maria to a classic melody I do
n’t recognize, but one that fits the mood, beautiful and bittersweet. We stand, almost as one, including the little kids. From the direction of a small garden, Tess appears in what looks like one of Evie’s dresses, given the short length of the skirt. Damn. Curran was right, she is all legs.
Tess clutches a spray of wildflowers against the waist of her dark-orange sleeveless dress. She walks forward, smiling softly, that smile widening when Curran gives her a wink.
Melissa must have selected Tess as her matron of honor. I’m not surprised. They’re pretty tight. But Tess walking down the aisle makes this moment more real, adding another layer of emotion I’m not ready to feel.
I’m not going to let Allie see me cry. No fucking way. But when Melissa steps through an archway of white flowers, dressed in a simple white gown that captures her beauty and curves as if made for her, as Miles uses all the strength he has left to stand, I can’t stop the sting across my eyes.
Miles is one of the strongest men I’ve ever met. He’s Declan’s mentor and a political icon. Today, he’s just a father with a full and happy heart.
Miles takes a cautious step forward, leaning heavily on a cane. The chemo the docs used have reduced him to a shell of what he once was. Still, he smiles like all good men do when it’s time for their daughters to become wives. There are no tears in his eyes. None that I can see. I suppose my family and I have enough.
Sofia, Sol, Lety, and Evie openly weep. Their men hold them closer, comforting them as well as themselves. Allie is crying, too. I clutch her tighter, reminding her I’m here for her and that I’m glad she’s with me.
I’m barely keeping it together. We O’Briens have tough exteriors, but seeing Melissa with Miles rips us apart.
You don’t have to know Miles to see how he’s suffered, or be close to the family to feel the love he has for his little girl. It’s just there, awful and awesome and mind-blowing all at once.
I give Allie a squeeze, wondering how I’m going to smile at all. But when I see Melissa’s face when she reaches Declan, that smile isn’t as hard as I thought. We don’t know what the future holds for Miles. But this isn’t a funeral. It’s a fucking wedding.
There’s not much to her flowers, just a few brightly colored roses. There’s also not much to her hair. Just a neat bun at the base of her neck, held by a silver pin. That’s all she needs to make one perfect bride and Declan knows it.
“Hi,” Declan says, grinning.
“Hi, Declan,” Melissa says, her voice so soft I barely hear it.
I hold Allie against me. It’s nothing I think I should do. It’s just natural.
Declan . . . I don’t want to say he’s a tight-ass, at least not on his wedding day. But out of all of us, he has always been the most serious. I’ve seen him at his best, when our father died and he stepped up, throwing himself into his education so he’d be able to give us a good life. I’ve seen him at his worst, when he thought he failed a victim he was representing, then did his damnedest to make that right. But today, I see him in a way I never have.
Declan straightens to his full height, his blond hair freakishly perfect like always, the strength he carries squaring his shoulders. But it’s the softness in his gaze when he looks at Melissa . . . now, that’s something I’ve never seen. For the first time ever, I see my brother as the man he’s become.
I swipe my eyes. This is the first, of now, four weddings I have to attend. How the hell am I going to get through them all?
“You’re going to be okay,” Allie says, like she can read my mind.
Her voice shakes as she speaks, but there’s her smile and I suppose it’s enough.
I return her grin. “Yeah. We’ll be fine,” I assure her.
Miles kisses Melissa’s cheek. “I love you, Daddy,” she says, nut-punching what’s left of my heart. Miles nods. It’s not until he shuffles to his seat beside Mae, that I realize how much the brief walk affected his battered body. The strong stance he held abandons him. He rests his back against the chair, allowing it to bear his weight.
I turn back to the bride and groom, sad for Miles, but happy as anything for Deck and Mel. The Justice of the Peace who materialized out of nowhere takes a step back, allowing Father Flanagan forward. I hadn’t seen him and I didn’t expect to. But Teo and Evie must have handled it all.
Father Flanagan stares out into the small audience. “To all who have come to share this union, may the Lord bless you now and always.” He addresses Melissa and Declan. “And to you Melissa and Declan, may the Lord bless your union, your children, and your future as husband-and-wife.” He blesses Declan and Melissa with holy water and the sign of the cross. It’s not much, but something that will mean everything to Ma. Father Flanagan steps away, allowing the Justice of the Peace forward.
The ceremony is brief, but the words shared mean just as much. We’re all smiling, doing a real good job keeping it together until Declan signs the last of his vows.
“Your father loved you first,” Declan says, motioning with his hands as he says each word. “Like him, I promise to love you forever.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.
In my defense, I’m not the only one of my brothers who dropped the “F” bomb. Even Curran, standing at the damn altar, let it rip. The women are all bawling except for Ma, who couldn’t be prouder, and Wren, who only releases a tear and one big smile.
“Sorry,” I whisper to Allie as Declan and Melissa walk past us as husband and wife. “I really thought we were coming here just to eat.”
By this point, Allie is wearing most of her mascara on her cheeks. She dabs her eyes with a tissue. “Don’t be sorry. This is good practice and . . .”
She loses it all over again when Miles walks down the aisle leaning heavily on Mae. “I don’t think I can watch the father daughter dance,” she says.
“Same,” I agree. “I have an idea. Let’s sneak away to the bathroom and pretend to have sex.”
Allie’s expression splits between laughing and a dark desire to smack me upside the head. I don’t see a problem. Personally, I think it’s a brilliant plan.
“What?” I ask.
My family is already making their way to the terrace where a DJ is setting up the music. “There’s something very wrong with you,” Allie finally says.
“I’m not saying we have to be loud or anything,” I assure her. “We just have to make sure somebody catches us going in and coming out. They’ll assume the rest.”
“We’re guests in someone’s home,” Allie reminds me, speaking slowly as if I’m missing something obvious.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Evie is already knocked up with their fourth kid. If anyone understands we need a moment, it’s Teo.”
Allie holds out her hands, the strap of her small purse slipping to the crook of her elbow. “Just so I’m clear, you want to sneak away during the father daughter dance, taking place in someone’s home, to pretend to have sex with me in a bathroom, so you don’t cry in front of your brothers while watching something beautiful?”
“It sounds dirty when you put it that way.”
“How else would you like me to put it, Seamus?”
I lead her forward when I realize we’re the only ones trailing behind. “If it makes you feel better, people make sweet love in the bathroom all the time.”
Allie gasps. “They do not.”
“Maybe they should,” I say, growing defensive. “I bet you most marriages wouldn’t end in divorce if there was more sex in the bathroom.”
Finnie turns around and bumps my fist. “Hell yeah, to sex in the bathroom. Sol and I will take the upstairs.”
“Finn,” Sol hisses, doing her best to cover my niece’s ears. “We’re in my cousin’s house.”
“He’ll understand,” Finn replies, like Sol is the crazy one. Hell, maybe she is.
“Told you,” I mutter to Allie.
All right, all right, I sound like a flaming idio
t. I get it. But when Allie shoots me a smirk followed by a laugh, it’s all worth it. “Keep your hands to yourself during the father daughter dance and no one will get hurt.”
“I’m not making any promises,” I tell her, grinning.
I offer her my arm, her smile fading when her phone buzzes and she checks the screen.
I roll my eyes when one text follows the next. “Let me guess, you’re late for Valentina’s fertility dance rehearsal.”
Her gaze drops as she fumbles to place her phone back into her purse. “It’s Andres. He says he wants to see me.”
CHAPTER 16
Allie
“Why are you avoiding your sister?” Mom asks.
A better question would be, why does Valentina feel the need to rub this wedding in? I was hoping the wedding would keep her and Mom so busy they’d leave me alone. Instead, the incessant calls from my mother and aunts have multiplied. Throw in Valentina’s constant texts and pics in her dress, picking out flowers, or images from her various glamorous luncheons with her model-esque friends, I’m ready to toss my phone in the Delaware.
“Mom, my final fitting was Tuesday and I pick up the dress this week. What can Valentina possibly need from me?”
“Your support. We never see you. You’re always working or with that man.”
“His name is Seamus and I have to go.”
“To be with him?” she snaps.
I look up at the stained-glass window that adorns the front of his shop. “Yes,” I say.
“Do you love him?” she asks, her tone prickly.
I do. But I don’t tell her that and I’m definitely not ready to tell him. “I have to go, Mom,” I say and disconnect.
I’ve only really known Seamus a few weeks. But if this isn’t love, I doubt I’ll ever feel it. I miss him all the time and I haven’t seen him in a while, which is why I drove to his place today.
I knock on the door, hurrying to adjust my breasts beneath my bra when I hear Seamus’s heavy footsteps approach. It’s not that I want my breasts to look good in this white T-shirt. It’s just that the lingerie I’m wearing makes it challenging to keep the girls from pointing skyward.
