Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
H ilary Coleman and her beloved husband, Marc, were married in a ceremony on the glittering shores of Nantucket Island. Watching them were no fewer than four hundred and seventeen guests. Newspaper and magazine articles reported that the wedding had seventeen thousand flowers although, by Margot’s count, it was closer to nineteen thousand. To help her through the strenuous day, Margot enlisted Noah, Avery, and Gabby from Boston. When Gabby arrived the night before the wedding, Margot threw her arms around her and said, “I’ve missed you!”
But as she said it, she realized Gabby was the only part of Boston she really missed. She decided that after the wedding chaos, she would sit down with Gabby and talk about Gabby becoming the permanent manager of Margot’s Blooms.
Margot would open her own flower shop on Nantucket.
She’d open her life to change.
Margot worked diligently with the wedding planner to ensure that every bouquet was perfect, every boutonniere was pinned, and every flower girl was supplied with enough petals to throw. The wedding planner and Margot hit it off so much that the wedding planner suggested they work together on future Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard weddings.
“I’ve read about you, Margot Earnheart,” she said. “You’re going somewhere.”
As Hilary and Marc said their vows, Margot and Noah sat in the middle row and held hands. Just then, Margot thought it might be funny to lean over and whisper a secret to Noah, but she decided to keep it for the dancing portion later on.
Could he sense she was pregnant?
Somewhere in that head of his, did he know?
Last night had been a terrible time to learn about it, of course. She’d hardly been able to sleep.
“I love you,” Noah whispered now.
“I love you back.”
When Marc and Hilary kissed for the first time as husband and wife—a status they’d been chasing for more than twenty years—the entire crowd got up and cheered. The mini-orchestra played a rousing tune, with violins and cellos singing out into the blue afternoon.
Out of the corner of Margot’s eye, she thought she spotted her father. But when she turned, she found Vic clapping wildly, smiling at her. He winked. She winked back.
Beside him stood Lillian, dressed immaculately. She held his arm and smiled as tears ran down her cheek.
Vic still hadn’t told Lillian that he was Frank’s son. But since Margot and Vic’s heart-to-heart, he’d picked Lillian up for two card games and come over for dinner once. It meant he wanted to stick around in her life. It meant he wanted to love her as though she was really his mother.
It was complicated. But that was what family was.
Later, when Margot found Vic and Lillian near the champagne table, smiling and swaying to the music, Vic excused himself to grab a new drink and left Lillian and Margot alone. Lillian strung her arm through Margot’s and put her head on Margot’s shoulder.
“Oh, my darling,” she said. “More love is never a bad thing.”
The words rang true. But Margot wanted to know where they’d come from. “What do you mean, Mom?”
“You must know where Vic came from,” Lillian breathed. “You must. Oh, I just hate what he’s gone through. I hate that his mother passed.”
Lillian paused, then added, “I was never a very good mother. It sounds like his was. Bless her. I wasn’t very nice to her, was I? Oh, but I wasn’t very nice to you, either.”
Margot raised both eyebrows and drew her head back to look her mother in the eye.
She knew?
“But Margaret,” her mother said, squeezing her arm harder, “I loved you. I really did. I still do. You’re my life. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know that, Mom,” Margot whispered, her thoughts reeling.
But before Margot could demand more from her mother, demand what she knew and what she remembered and what she understood about Vic, Vic was back, and Lillian was begging him for a dance.
As Margot watched Vic walk Lillian out onto the dance floor, her heart filled with questions she knew would never be answered. But here at Marc and Hilary’s wedding reception, love perfumed the air. She decided to open her heart to every bit of it before it was too late.