Epilogue
Eight months later
David made his way through the crowded hotel ballroom, following the pull of his bracelet.
Flickering electric candlelight played over the stars and baubles adorning the Christmas trees that towered in every corner, and an instrumental recording of a holiday pop song mingled with the low hum of conversation.
Beaming as she caught sight of him, Adalynn Cartier glided past in what had once been intended as her wedding gown, now reimagined in black and crimson, the lace artfully slashed and twisted.
Faced with the options of forfeiting her deposit for the wedding venue or postponing her reservation, she had chosen the latter, and opted to throw a formal, if somewhat early, Christmas ball.
Meredith had taken to privately referring to it as a not-marrying-Florian party, and David couldn’t disagree that was reason enough to celebrate.
(Not to mention it had given Meredith a perfectly good excuse to go and buy that emerald-green ball gown after all.)
David continued on his way, catching Mrs. Jupiter’s eye as she led Maitland Cartier through a complicated foxtrot, and exchanging a somewhat cooler nod with Genevieve and her fiancé.
Stepping around an elderly couple swaying in time to the music, David caught a brief glimpse of Harriet near the opposite end of the room.
He waved, and a smile crept over his face as she failed entirely to notice him, caught up as she was dancing with Sylvania Holland.
At last David reached the far side of the room and slipped out onto the terrace. A short distance away, Meredith leaned against the wrought iron railing between two potted cedars and gazed up at the full moon, shoulders bare in spite of the early December chill.
David slowed his approach. He’d intended to take him to task for vanishing after being left on his own for no more than a few moments, but there was an air of melancholy about him that caused the teasing admonition to dissolve unspoken.
Coming up behind him, David slipped his arms around his waist. “Hey, little bird. Feel like telling me what’s on your mind?”
“Oh, nothing, really—wait. No.” With a rustle of satin, Meredith slipped from his grasp and turned to face him.
“Tamara says I’ve got to talk about these things.
” Tamara was the therapist he’d been seeing every week since the summer, who’d been helping him sort out how to handle his lower moods.
(David had seen one himself for a time, initially in solidarity, but had found that it helped him to talk through a few things after all.)
“Go on.”
Meredith traced over the carved dragon motif of his jade bracelet for a moment before he continued. “It isn’t anything major, only it was getting to be a bit much with all the Christmassy things. This time of year—s’pose it’s not really the best memories for me,” he admitted.
David caught hold of his hand. “Then we’ll have to make some better ones for you, together.
” He already had a few plans for doing exactly that when they visited his family in Swansea in a few weeks: Early-morning walks under the gray sky of the deserted winter beach.
Returning to warm up with tea in front of the hearth, wrapped in a shared blanket.
Christmas dinner crowded around the tiny table that his father insisted served him perfectly well during the rest of the year.
(Ruth, now a vegetarian herself, had already insisted on personally making nut roast as an alternative to the traditional turkey.) “And, Meri? Thanks for telling me.”
“Course.” After a moment of silence, Meredith, in his usual fashion, leapt to an altogether different topic. “Hang on, I thought when you went off a bit ago it was to get more drinks.” His gaze traveled pointedly to David’s empty hands. “What’ve you been up to?”
“You’ll see,” said David, “but you’ll have to come back inside before it’s too late.” He had, in fact, been performing a minor act of bribery upon the DJ, but he didn’t intend to give away the game just yet. “Unless you’d rather not, of course.”
“Nah, I don’t mind anymore. Just needed to get away for a moment, but it’s all right now.
” He took hold of David’s hand and led the way back, pausing outside the doors to steal a kiss.
It went on long enough to leave him suitably dazed and compliant as Meredith dragged him back into the warm light of the ballroom and into a dance that didn’t begin to match the tempo of the current music.
“So when do I find out—” Meredith broke off, distracted from his would-be interrogation as Adalynn and Kinley drifted by in a graceful waltz. The latter appeared slightly terrified, holding on to her as carefully as though she were made of glass.
Then Meredith caught his eye, and Kinley broke into a rare smile.
Once they were out of earshot, Meredith said, “They make a lovely couple, don’t you think?”
David started. “Are they? A couple, I mean?”
“She finally asked him out this week, and it’s about time, too.” At David’s questioning look, Meredith went on in exasperation, “Oh, really, David, you’re hopeless. Haven’t you seen them making eyes at each other at the Rat Cellar for ages now?”
In truth, he hadn’t. He supposed he’d been too astonished at seeing Adalynn Cartier become a regular at the Rat Cellar to take note of anything further.
Before he could make any reply, the current song faded out, and the DJ announced, “This next one is a special request.”
At the first familiar notes of “Non, je ne regrette rien,” Meredith’s eyes went wide. “You remembered,” he whispered.
“Of course I did.” David leaned in close. “Happy early birthday, love.”
Though the room was filled with strangers and friends and family, their surroundings awash with vibrant colors and opulent fabrics and the twinkle of Christmas stars, for the moment, the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of them in each other’s arms, the glide of satin beneath his palms, and Edith Piaf in the background.
David drew Meredith closer and softly sang along.