by Jean Stone
From the back of the gathering seated on the lawn, Lily saw that the children were neatly aligned, just as they had practiced, just as Lily had wanted. She smiled with the thought that maybe she had a way with kids, after all.
Then, from the portico of Seranak House, Jo opened the front door and the bride stepped out, radiant, glamorous—all the things a wedding inspired.
She would be like that, Lily thought, when she and Frank were married.
It would not be a small wedding, nor would they elope. It would be in mid-September, which would allow a month before Elaine and Martin’s second shot at their second chance. Lily would be plump, and she would be beautiful. She was going to insist on white tulle and organza and diamonds and pearls, and very special crudités prepared by Elaine’s father, the master chef. Surely he would do that for her.
They would have a harpist and a full ensemble from Tanglewood and the loveliest flowers, all grown locally, of course.
The wedding would capture every essence of every wedding the women of Second Chances had planned, of every wedding to come, of every photo in their portfolio and every mention on their new website blog. It would embrace the aura of what weddings were all about: ceremony, commitment, love joined and love shared, whether the new wives and husbands were first, second, or “a hundred and first,” as Frank once said.
It would also signify the rejoining of what remained of the Beckwith family. Lily, after all, had already asked Antonia to be her maid of honor. Antonia said she wouldn’t miss it, especially now that she’d bought an old colonial on the road down to Stockbridge, one with lots of rooms for her assistants and a big playroom for Lily’s kids.
Lily wiped a tear that somehow had sneaked out. Her marriage to Frank would be the one wedding her mother and father and Aunt Margaret would have applauded. She realized then she’d never, not once, wondered what Billy’s wedding had been like. Maybe she’d been over him long before she knew it.
“The kids are perfect,” Frank said as he stepped from behind Lily and slid his arms around her waist.
“Just like ours will be,” she whispered. He kissed her neck, and they quietly watched the bride and the groom and the eighteen perfect children and the guests and all the bubbles that floated through the air as the I-do’s were said.
Then, after the bride and groom kissed, instead of heading back down the aisle, the groom stepped forward and said, “I suppose you think the ceremony is over. Well, I’m happy to ask you to please remain seated, because our justice of the peace here has agreed to perform an added duty.”
The little kids seemed content to stand there, no doubt transfixed by their teacher and her huge gown. (Except, of course, Gabriel, who’d already commandeered one of the giant balls and had hopped behind the altar.)
“Lily?” the kindergarten teacher’s groom called out. “Are you all set?”
“Oh, yes, we are,” she replied, and turned back to the house as Cassie scooped an arm through one of Jo’s and said, “It’s time, Jo. I can’t wait any longer for you to be my stepmother.”
Bewildered into silence, Jo let Cassie lead her toward the tent, just as Andrew was escorted in from the side by Elaine and Sarah on one arm, Jo’s mother on the other.
The musicians played Mendelssohn’s march again as Jo and Andrew were brought up to the altar and positioned in front of guests they did not know and a justice of the peace they had not met.
“We come together this day to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the justice began.
Andrew laughed.
Jo laughed.
Cassie told them both to shush, that it was legal, because they already had their marriage license and they’d written their vows and she just happened to have everything right there in her pocket.
When Andrew looked at her and frowned, Cassie said, “Sorry, I stole them.” She then took several slightly crumpled pieces of paper from her skirt, handed them to the justice of the peace, and turned back to Jo and Andrew. “It was an emergency. Lily and I agreed that we simply couldn’t have you elope. Besides, Lily’s paying for today, remember?”
Then everyone laughed, even the people who didn’t know them, even the kindergarten kids, because laughter was so infectious, especially on such a glorious day.
“Jo, please repeat after me,” the justice of the peace continued. “Andrew, from the first day that I saw you I had no idea we’d end up here…”
And Jo was smiling and shaking her head in disbelief at the same time, and she repeated the vows that she’d written, and then Andrew did too.
Then the justice said, “Andrew David Kennedy, do you take this woman, Josephine Lyons, to be your lawfully wedded wife…” and Lily cried and Elaine cried and Sarah cried too, and Andrew simply smiled and said, “Oh, yes, I certainly do.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JEAN STONE has written fourteen novels for Bantam Books, including Four Steps to the Altar, the fourth in the Second Chances series. A native of western Massachusetts, she is active on her town’s cultural council and volunteers on a radio-reading program for the blind.
To follow the ongoing antics of Jo, Lily, Sarah, Elaine, and Andrew—and to check up on their blog—the author invites her readers to visit www.secondchancesweddings.com.
For more information on Ms. Stone and her other books, visit www.jeanstone.com.
OTHER BOOKS BY JEAN STONE
THREE TIMES A CHARM
TWICE UPON A WEDDING
ONCE UPON A BRIDE
BEACH ROSES
TRUST FUND BABIES
OFF SEASON
THE SUMMER HOUSE
TIDES OF THE HEART
BIRTHDAY GIRLS
PLACES BY THE SEA
IVY SECRETS
FIRST LOVES
SINS OF INNOCENCE
FOUR STEPS TO THE ALTAR
A Bantam Book / August 2006
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2006 by Jean Stone
Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
www.bantamdell.com
eISBN: 978-0-553-90277-8
v3.0
