Chapter 27 No Place Like （Margot）
NO PLACE LIKE (MARGOT)
Three Months Later
Ithought the proposal would always be the happiest day of my life—and I was wrong.
Nothing on God’s green earth will ever beat our wedding day.
We spent the winter renovating the lake house, bringing in contractors for the big stuff and doing the little fixes ourselves, slowly making it into a home.
Our home.
A special family place like PopPop always wanted.
No, we can’t settle in permanently with the kids going to school in New York and both of us taking frequent business trips. We’ve been to LA more times than I can count over the past few months while fashionistas and tech savvy marketers planned out how to launch Orthique into orbit.
Sure, I’m endlessly grateful for the shoe dream becoming a reality, but it has nothing on becoming Mrs. Kane Saint.
And just like Ethan, I have Gramps’ whimsy to thank for that.
What better way to honor him than by making the old house into a stunning new place worthy of becoming our home base?
For real.
I don’t know how to process being this happy.
It feels wrong.
Like I can’t possibly keep smiling this much without some big, scary thing coming around the corner to crash the vibe.
Today, though, that scary thing is just me standing in front of a hundred people and hoping I can get my heart out in the vows we’ve rehearsed before I seize up.
Hattie adjusts the pale-blue dress she’s wearing. Who else would be my maid of honor?
If I wasn’t the bride, I might say she outshines me in the sleek satin, all her curves on display.
“Okay, here we go.” Hattie brushes my dress down, making sure there are no flaws. “Ready to walk the aisle, princess?”
“Hattie. I’m not five.”
“It’s your wedding day! Every girl’s entitled to the royal treatment,” she says firmly and unhooks the dress from where it’s resting on the closet door.
“You heard the lady. Everyone’s a princess.” My little cousin, Cleo, nods from the corner, slouched in a chair with her massive sketchpad. “Them’s the rules and I don’t make them.”
“Just wait for your wedding day, Clee. You’ll love the rules I make up then.”
“Oh, no.” She flushes and shakes her head like the shy little art geek she is. “I’ll let you and Ethan have all the fun. I don’t need that much crazy in my life.”
I shoot Hattie a knowing look.
“You haven’t chatted up Jackie Wilkes about the will yet, have you?”
Cleo shakes her head, the bright-pink highlights in her hair flashing.
“Man, I just wonder if Gramps saved the best for last. What if he sends you off to a dinosaur dig and you wind up engaged to a hot archaeologist or something?”
“Oh my God, can we stop?” Her face is a ripe tomato.
“She has a point. Let’s get back to your wedding day, Gigi.” Hattie looks smugly satisfied as she studies my face in the mirror for any touch-ups needed. “The rules say you have to be smack-dab gorgeous, and I’m not letting you walk out there looking like anything less. I have to return the favor.”
“True, you had some help from yours truly,” I say with a grin. “Your mom wasn’t half-bad either.”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and she grins back, nodding to the makeup brush in my hand.
“Yet here you are, doing your own makeup like a pro. You know how good you’ll look when the dust settles. I’m here for moral support.”
It’s true. I didn’t want to bring anyone all the way out here just to make my face a wedding mask.
Besides, if there’s one thing you learn from growing up famous, it’s how to do makeup quickly and efficiently.
Kane said he’d leave it to me, yes, but he’s also a minimalist at heart.
For my hubby, I’ve kept it simple, going for a subtle spring glow that brightens my features.
Light-brown liner, just enough to emphasize the shape of my eyes.
No false lashes.
Soft coral-pink lipstick.
The same shade painted on my fingers and toes.
“Okay, how are we doing? Incredible yet?” I ask the peanut gallery.
“Smokeshow,” Cleo clips.
“Showstopper!” Hattie agrees, brushing a hand down the sleek satin of my skirt. “Holy crap, it’s almost time. Are you ready?”
Ready or not…
I check my phone.
Mom sent me a pic of some flowers and says she’ll be up in a sec.
“Mom’s coming,” I say. “I think she’ll want to help me put on the dress.”
“Mom’s privilege,” she agrees carefully.
I know where she’s coming from.
Hattie’s relationship with her mom also wasn’t the best until recently, so she gets how complicated it can be. But in the end, family’s family, and if they’re willing to step up, we’ll let them.
Ever since Ethan found out he wasn’t Dad’s last summer, and ever since I turned over Gramps’ stuff to Mom, she’s been stepping it up in the parenting department.
It’s a little weird, honestly.
But it means a lot to see her try.
“Whoa. That’s a ton of flowers.” Hattie peers over my shoulder at the message.
“I asked her to pick them up. Hopefully she has the bouquet so I can see if I can even carry it. It’s huge.”
“Gorgeous, though!” she says.
She’s right.
Beautiful daisies, roses, and dahlias.
They’ll be a vibrant splash of color against my cream dress.
“Very you,” Cleo adds, standing over my shoulder. “Kinda important to make it all jive.”
It’s a relief to hear that, knowing I let Mom pick the flowers without much discussion. Of course, she went for something extravagant and over-the-top because that’s Mom, but she chose something I would like.
A statement.
Not the elegant, insanely pricey Black Baccara roses she’d have picked and had flown in from Europe. Like she actually did for her own wedding, I mean.
There’s a knock at the door, and Mom comes in, dressed in a pale-yellow dress that she somehow pulls off. I’m surprised the flowers piled in her arms doesn’t pull her over.
“This is for the altar,” she gasps, a little winded.
We’re in the room I first stayed in when I met Kane.
Somehow, it felt right—and it gives him the opportunity to get ready with Dan and Ethan and his parents.
Hattie hangs the dress back up and takes the flowers, while Mom hugs me so tight I can’t quite breathe.
“You look so gorgeous, honey,” she says, a little choked. “No wonder Kane wants to marry you.”
I smile, because I know she means it in the best way. “I thought you were going to be late.”
“And miss the moment my daughter steps into her dress for the first time? No!” She shakes her head firmly. “This is too important. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Having passed the flowers off to Clee to carry downstairs, Hattie hands me my dress again.
We picked it for its simplicity, this modern and elegant off the shoulder piece, airy and bright. It sweeps in at my waist and cascades out again at my feet.
Classic and timeless.
I step into it carefully and for the first time, the tears bite.
Holy hell.
As far as weddings go, this one feels relaxed, but the emotional sucker punch had to come sometime.
So far, I haven’t had to do anything except wake up and scarf down the breakfast Hattie brought me in bed.
“Yay, the sun’s out! The rain this morning had me worried,” Hattie says, bouncing with excitement at the window. “And it looks like they’re all set up. Don’t look, Margot. You can’t see yet and spoil the surprise.”
Since I planned the whole thing, it doesn’t make that much sense that I’m not allowed to peek, but whatever. I’m too busy eyeing myself in the mirror for imperfections to care about what they’re doing outside.
I finally look like a bride today.
I look like I’m getting married.
Hattie turns and her eyes widen.
“Oh, Margot,” she whispers, her hands flying to her mouth. “How does it look even better today than when you tried it on for alterations?”
“Um, I guess because it’s really happening.” I don’t know if I’m trembling from nerves or sheer excitement. “Come help me do my hair.”
Hattie and Mom work together to get my hair sorted, both chattering away about the guest list, a who’s who of New England power and fame, plus the folks who couldn’t make it.
There are a few people I don’t mind passing on their invitations.
Daria, for one.
She’s down in Key West filming for two weeks and had to decline.
Honestly, I’m relieved.
I knew we had to invite her for the family’s sake.
Just like I know how important it is to keep up healthy relationships for the kids. Still, every time I find out another way she neglected them, I want to punch her.
But this is my wedding day, and even my distaste for Daria can’t last.
“Everyone’s in place,” Mom says from her perch by the window. “Ooh, and Kane’s walking to the front. That man has a good pair of shoulders.”
“Mom.”
“It’s fine, your dad said as much. Keeping fit, that’s important for a man at any age. You need to be sure he takes his health seriously, and yours, too.” She touches her hair self-consciously, though it’s fresh from the salon and almost blindingly glossy.
“I can look after myself,” I say, rolling my eyes at how hopelessly cringe she can be.
She looks at me and smiles.
“I know, honey. You’ve proven that, what with your near-death incident and all.”
There’s another knock at the door, and when Mom opens it, Sophie pokes her head through.
Finally, someone who won’t annoy me.
“Hey, Soph,” I say, putting the finishing touches to my lipstick and slipping a thin chain around my neck. The engagement ring glints on my finger, and like I always do, I have to stop myself from admiring it.
“Are you guys almost ready?” Sophie asks shyly. “The ceremony’s supposed to start soon.”
“It’s a wedding, half pint. Brides are always late.” Hattie winks at the little girl.
“Really? Why?” Sophie frowns.
I look back in the mirror.
“You know what? You’re right. Why should I be late when I’ve been dying to walk down that aisle?”
“Yay!” Sophie claps her hands.
I give her a quick once-over.
She helped pick out her dress, which is an adorable pink made from satin to match mine. She’s also wearing a pair of adorable white sneakers with gold splashed along the sides, specially designed just for her today.
“Still got the rings?” I ask her.