Emery was a little more than moved that Joanna thought of her amid all the wedding preparation. Dad texted a few weeks ago saying she was starting to wear thin.
Joanna brought a sense of style to the Quinn closets. Dad’s style improved from dotty professor to sophisticated academic. Joanna sent Emery off to Ohio State with a suitcase full of “college girl” clothes—which Emery never really acknowledged.Thankyou,thank you,Joanna.
Of all her mom’s amazing qualities, a fashion sense was not one of them. She was a banker who wore banker’s clothes—dark suits and white blouses, heels. For a wedding or dinner party, she borrowed outfits from friends. But Mom had the pearls, which added class to everything.
At four forty-five, Delilah knocked on Emery’s door. “I thought we could walk up together. I’m a bit nervous.”
She wore a lovely pair of white slacks with a pink blouse, and white sandals. Her short silver hair was always neat, but Murph had insisted on running a curling iron through the top. At eighty-seven, she still had the leanness of her younger years, with high cheeks supporting her dark, all-seeing eyes.
“You’ve met royals before, haven’t you?” Emery said. “Didn’t you have an audience with Prince John’s grandfather?”
“Many, many years ago. I’m out of practice.”
“Princess Gemma is eager to meet you.”
“Stay with me when I curtsy so I don’t fall.”
“We don’t have to curtsy,” Emery said, setting her phone, cottage key, and lip gloss in a small clutch.
“You say that now, but when you meet them, you will.”
Walking up Avenue C under a fiery red, gold, and orange sunset, Delilah gripped Emery’s hand as they rounded the old haberdashery and entered Sea Blue Way.
“Goodness.” Delilah slowed. “It’s a wonderland. Everything looks born again.”
The banners flapped softly in the breeze, almost in rhythm with the murmuring voices. The glow of the shop windows spread a golden carpet over the red bricks. Even the vacant shops had light in the windows.
The high school quartet played Pachelbel, and the security teams, dressed in black, faded into the background.
“It seems like the East End has woken up from a long sleep,” Emery said. “The whole place is glowing.”
As they made their way under the string of crisscrossing lights, Emery began her article in her head, trying to find another word besidesmagical.Glorious?
The street was like a scene from a swoony movie where the hero finally scoops the girl into his arms and dances with her under the stars to her favorite song.
Somewhere in the gathering crowd, Emery hoped Kadasha captured the feel with her camera as much as the sights.
Down the center of the street, round high-top spool tables were decorated with lights and small bouquets of flowers. In short order, East End food vendors would bring out their specialties.
“Emery, over here.” Simon beckoned from the small huddle of town council members. “I want you front and center. Delilah, you’re next to Emery. The princess is a fan.”
“Seems impossible, but all right.” Delilah was so delightfully humble. “I haven’t been on the music scene for over forty years.”
Emery had just taken her place when she noticed Caleb in a deep conversation with Duke. Suddenly he turned, as if she’d called his name. His attention landed on her. And when he smiled, he challenged the brightness of every twinkling light. His presence wrapped around her, head to toe.Caleb Ransom,you aremaking me love you.
After a moment, he broke away from Duke and came over to her. “You know you’re not supposed to upstage the princess.”
“Very funny.” Yet the glint in his eye said he meant it. “I couldn’t show her up if I tried.”
“Caleb, here, you tuck in next to your girl,” Delilah said, pulling him into the line.
“No, no, I’ll go on the other side of Simon,” he said.
“Nonsense, you two need to stand together. You’re the future of this town.”
“Are we?” Emery said. What did Delilah know, or see, that she didn’t?
“Does everyone remember the protocol?” Simon strode up and down the line of guests. “They’ll walk the line, greet each of you. Shake their hand but do not crowd them, ask for a selfie, or tell them your life story.” Simon turned to Ivan. “Hear me?”
