“He meant Gemma Stone. And guess what, Mum, I proposed to her. After the ball.”
“You what?” Catherine rose from her chair. “I hope she had the good sense to turn you down.”
While she did not want to be judgmental or small-minded—people made mistakes, she certainly had—she hardly thought this Americanshowgirlwas right for the crown.
“She did but I never accepted her answer.”
“Thank goodness.” Catherine pressed her hand over her thumping heart. “And you don’t have to accept her answer. She said no.”
“Emmanuel told me to go to her.”
“Emmanuel told you to go to her?”
“I’ve been putting it off for fear of… I don’t know. Fear of you. Fear of fully letting go of Holland and the past. Fear of falling in love and losing Gemma like I lost Holland. Fear she’ll turn me down again. Fear of what the people will do to her if she agrees to our global fishbowl.”
“Emmanuel told you to go to Gemma Stone? Are you having me on?”
“He told me to go to my best friend.” A flicker of determination crossed his fine, chiseled features—so much like her father’s—and she knew he’d settled something in his mind. “Gemma is my best friend. I told her so when I proposed. Then Emmanuel came into the Belly of the Beast and changed me. Mum, you don’t know Gemma but I promise you, she is much more than one tawdry story.”
“And you really love her?”
“I’m on my way, yes. She was my friend first. Now, I fall more in love with every thought of her. It’s different than with Holland who seemed to fit some predetermined mold. She was everything I wanted as a future queen. And I did love her. But with Gemma I’m nothing more than an ordinary chap falling for an ordinary girl. She makes me want to be a better man, Mum, and that will make me a better king.”
“You are sure?”
“Emmanuel seems to be sure.”
“Well then, if Emmanuel is sure, you have my blessings. Do what you must.” She was proud of him. He’d chosen Emmanuel over her. Over the people.
Oh, her precious son. He was going to make a fine king.
Chapter Thirty-one
Gemma
There comes a time in every girl’s life when she must honestly answer the question, “How’d you end up here?”
By getting up from the dirty floor on which she’d landed and choosing to walk toward wholeness. One step, one limp, at a time.
A week and a half after a tiny little angel and an old wedding gown set her free, Gemma was becoming the woman she always wanted to be. A friend, a daughter, a mother. A change agent for good.
It wasn’t some big charity or national cause. Imani Shumaker was just as important and Gemma was proud to be her mama.
After the wedding dress day—which she confessed to Haley and JoJo and they all cried—Imani’s adoption hit the fast track.
Before she knew it, they were before the judge to be officially united as mother and daughter. Gemma Stone and Imani Shumaker Stone.
Last night Justin’s parents hosted a grand barbecue in celebration with smoked ribs, coleslaw, baked beans, corn on the cob, homemade ice cream, and a rousing cornhole tournament. Daddy got his buddies together for a guitar circle and the party roared on until one in the morning. No one cared it was a week night.
Imani hugged and kissed Gemma a thousand times, each touch, each move toward her solidifying their bond. Take that mistakes. Take that death.
Tonight when she ran onto the volleyball court for her final home game, Gemma would cheer as her real mother.
Anyway, back to the wedding dress. Haley and JoJo listened intently as Gemma told the story of Adelaide-the-angel and how putting on the gown had changed her. And never once did they state the obvious.
“You don’t even have a boyfriend let alone a fiancé.”
When Gemma finished her tale, the three of them sat in the office for a long time saying a word.
