Chapter Thirty-Four
Six months later
The hotel Hattie chose for her wedding is perfect.
Right in the heart of Marylebone, it somehow embodies the glamour of the best parts of London, but it also feels as if you could be in the middle of the countryside, with unlimited space and tranquility.
It almost looks like a Victorian manor house from the outside, with intricate stonework and towering windows, which made Mel wonder if it had once been the home of an aristocrat before becoming a hotel.
The ceremony had been gorgeous, a mix of traditional and enough quirky details to make it perfectly Hattie.
Mel had done her best not to cry, standing up in front of everyone as one of the bridesmaids, but Finn had hugged her afterward in a way that let her know her emotions had been all over her face.
She and Finn are now sitting at the high table at the front of the Grand Ballroom.
“Ballroom” is exactly the right word for this space—Mel can imagine actual balls taking place here, like something from Bridgerton.
High ornate ceilings stretch above them, while gilded mirrors reflect the glow of the candlelight as the sky outside begins to turn to dusk.
The three-course meal has just been cleared away—which equaled the best restaurants Mel has ever been in—and glasses are clinking in expectation of the speeches.
Traditionally, of course, it would be the father of the bride to give the first speech.
And Andrew is, in fact, here. He might not be sitting at the high table, but Hattie had caved and invited him, perhaps having learned a thing or two about the fragility of life over the last few months.
It’s a work in progress, Mel knows. Maybe she’ll never really forgive him, maybe the relationship will never truly heal, with her or all the siblings—but inviting him to the wedding was a big step for Hattie.
He’s sitting at a table with Mel’s parents, at her suggestion.
They’d been delighted to be invited—there was much crying from her mum and “well, that’s jolly nice” from her dad.
They’d descended on Hattie after the ceremony, thanking her profusely, and she’d waved it away. Of course! You’re family!
It’s not her father, however, who Hattie turns to now.
Mel catches Finn’s gaze, smiles as he takes her hand, squeezes.
And they both look over to the head of the table, where Susan is now getting to her feet.
She is wearing a gorgeous white-and-green floral dress, with a matching headscarf wrapped around her head, having claimed, when she started losing her hair from treatment, that wigs were not for her.
She holds her glass of sparkling elderflower up, clinking a spoon against it—though there is no need, because the whole room is already silent.
“Well,” Susan says, and Mel can hear the emotion in her voice even with that one word.
When Hattie had decided that Susan was the best person to give this speech, it had caused a showdown between mother and daughter, despite the fact that everyone agreed.
It was the only time, according to the siblings, that Susan had protested this strongly about something.
I might not be here by June—you can’t ask me to do it.
Well, tough, because I am.
Mel isn’t quite sure what Hattie said to get Susan to agree to it—she actually suspects it might have been Dylan who had a quiet word with her. She’s also not sure what Hattie would have done if her mum hadn’t made it to the wedding, and feels eternally grateful that they didn’t have to find out.
“I think any parent will tell you,” Susan continues, “that seeing your children happy is the best possible gift. My darling Hattie has been called many things over the years.” A few snickers around the room at that—most from Hattie’s school friends, as far as Mel can see.
“Wildchild. IT genius. Creative but lacking in concentration.” She lifts her fingers in the air to do the air quotes, and more people laugh.
“I never cared about any of the labels. The only one I care about is happy. I’m not a believer in needing another person to make you happy.
” At the table, Mark and Finn both shift—neither of them, perhaps, wanting to look at their dad.
Mel gives Finn’s hand another squeeze. “But finding the right person can certainly help. And, Dylan, my love, you have proven yourself to be the right person over and over. Hattie told me, after only a few weeks of knowing you, that you were the one. When I met you, I knew she was right. And I thought to myself, well, if my only accomplishment in life is in raising a daughter who is damn sure she knows her mind, then I can be proud of that.”
Susan continues, telling a story of Hattie as a child, and how she’d come up with a list of what she wanted her life to be like when she grew up.
Mel manages to keep it together through all the speech, though she can see tears shining in both Hattie’s and Kristen’s eyes and somehow, behind her, she hears the distinct sniffle that will be her mum, trying to stem a sob.
So, yes, Mel manages to keep it together through the whole speech, even when Susan sits down and everyone claps. However, when Hattie gets up next, she knows this will be the thing that does it.
Hattie takes a breath. She looks stunning—she’s gone full-on princess dress, with no sleeves and a sparkling bodice that puffs out into a Cinderella-style gown. It suits her perfectly, and is complemented by her hair, curled around her face, with flowers she’d let Freya put in herself.
“I know the groom traditionally does this bit,” Hattie says.
“And because I couldn’t make him totally give up the right, you’re going to have to listen to us both—but I promise I’ll keep it short.
I know we all want to get dancing.” Mel smiles at Hattie, nodding.
She’d not seen Hattie nervous before, but when she’d practiced this speech on Mel, her hands had been shaking.
Now, though, she seems steady, tall, and proud.
“My mum has told you all what an accomplishment it was to raise a daughter who knew her own mind. And I just want to say, that, yes, it was an accomplishment.” She turns to look directly at Susan, who is gripping Kristen’s hand tight on the table.
“Mum, you have been the most brilliant parent. You have taught us all to be strong and independent, and you have always, always encouraged us to go after what we want. The reason I could be sure I loved Dylan was because I knew how to be loved—because you always made us feel cherished, and happy, no matter what. You have kept the family together when it wasn’t always easy.
You have made it so that me and Finn and Mark always know we have somewhere to call home, and someone to depend on.
You have never made us feel less for mistakes that we’ve made, and you have always made us believe that we deserve good things.
I didn’t realize, as a child, just what a gift that was. So thank you. For being you.”
Hattie takes a breath. I’m no good at speeches, she’d wailed at Mel, eyes wide with panic, just hours before.
You don’t have to be good, Mel had told her. You just have to say what you feel.
Hattie looks out at the crowd, raises a glass. “To Susan.”
The whole hall echoes the sentiment—and Mel knows she is not the only one crying now.
There had been a brief discussion, among the bridal party, about whether it would be awkward, Hattie so publicly thanking her mum, when her dad was at the next table.
They’d unanimously decided that it didn’t matter—Susan was the one who deserved to be thanked, and Hattie needed to take the moment to do that, for herself as well as her mum.
Hattie’s eyes are shining with tears as she sits down, and Mel swipes at a tear on her own face.
Finn’s arm comes around her, pulling her to him.
Susan is a full-on mess, sobbing into a napkin as Mark comes around to hug her and Freya looks on, alarmed.
Mel knows it is as much because she made it to the wedding as it is Hattie’s words.
The doctors are “cautiously hopeful” about Susan’s chances—that she’ll fight this thing, that she’ll have time left.
Susan had admitted that she’d been so set on making last Christmas a perfect one because she’d thought it would be her last, but now it looks like there’s a real chance she’ll be here for this Christmas too.
Hattie has promised to do a list for them all this year, which Mel is somewhat dreading, given the type of activities Hattie might come up with.
Dylan clears his throat as he gets to his feet—and even his voice is not quite steady.
“Well,” he says. “I’m not totally sure I can top that.
Shall we just skip past this and cut the cake?
” It lightens the mood enough so that everyone manages to get their act together, and Dylan has them all laughing when he tells the story of how he and Hattie met.
After the speeches, the band plays a few beats of music, then the singer pulls the mic toward him. “If the bride and groom could please take to the dance floor?”
Kristen grabs Mel’s shoulder as they all head down from the high table. Her red hair is tied up in a chic knot and there is no denying now that she is well and truly pregnant. “Mel, about the business plan I sent through for your business—”
“ Our business now. And I’m not talking about it until Monday.” She’s learned a thing or two about work-life balance over the last year, and she’s sticking to that.
Kristen wrinkles her nose. “Okay, but—”
Mel takes Kristen’s hand, and squeezes. She knows she still feels she has to prove she’s doing a good job, that Mel was right to take a chance on her—but from day one Mel knew it was the right decision.
“It’ll be great, Kristen. And besides, you’re in charge.
I’m just a lowly designer now, remember? ”