“I guess your dress takes care of the new, so you’re now covered.”
The smile drops away as she looks at my simple sheath dress in a heavy white silk, It has sparkling crystals hand-appliqued across the bodice like spilled jewels; sparingly on the right shoulder and flowing to congregate in more extravagant numbers on the left side of the hem.
I stick my hand in the pockets, straightening out the design to show it off.
“You look lovely,” she says like it’s an insult, then stalks across the room to mess with a flower arrangement that Agnes just got looking the way she wanted.
“So the groom isn’t allowed to see you, but you’re fine with everyone else getting an eyeful before the ceremony?” Thaddius asks.
I turn, cupping my elbows as the awkwardness of the situation overtakes me. A week ago, if he’d attended my nuptials, it would have been with Gabriel in the role of groom. Much as I try to read his face now, I can’t work out whether he’s happier that his elder son is in that role.
“Can I fetch you a drink?”
It’s the one question usually designed to elicit a grateful response, but he shakes his head, waving a tumbler with an inch of clear liquid. “I’m fine with water,” he says, and I take a minute to understand he’s serious.
There’s no familiar waft of alcohol from the glass or his pores and his eyes are clearer than I’ve seen them in years.
He catches my eye and smirks. “Thought I might give sobriety a test drive,” he whispers, then screws up his face. “It doesn’t have a lot going for it, mind you. Today’s the first time my limbs haven’t been shaking like leaves. Let’s hope they stay on their best behaviour until this whole thing is done.”
This whole thing. What a romantic way to refer to his son’s wedding.
Catching my smile, Thaddius returns one of his own. “What? Have I lost my gift of the gab as well? Bloody typical. I’ve always made the worst decisions.”
“It’s commendable,” I say, weaving my arm through his. “And it’s not like there’s a load of people here to notice whether you’re the life of the party or not.”
“No.” He pats my hand, then leaves his on top of mine as we stare at the meagre assembly. “This is the most scaled down wedding I’ve seen for a while.” He purses his lips, and adds, “Maybe ever.”
“I guess Micah doesn’t like fuss.”
“Guess not.”
We stand without speaking for a while, and I feel more peaceful than at any other time since I woke this morning. Given the simplicity of the event, there isn’t anything to organise. That seems like it should be a blessing, but it just gives all the thoughts invading my head free rein.
“You know, I hesitate to speak ill of my youngest, but you’re much better suited to Micah’s temperament than you ever were to Gabriel’s.”
A small laugh escapes me and when Thaddius turns an enquiring glance my way, I can’t even explain why. “I guess so. I’ve seen nothing temperamental at all. He told me how he came up through the organisation but it’s hard to imagine.”
“He was violent, but he never wasted energy. Even when he couldn’t control himself, he found a place to put all that anger where it worked to his advantage.”
“A smart thug, then.”
“Charming, too, when he wants to be.” Thaddius tips his head to the side and I can feel the withdrawal shakes working through his arms for the first time. “Rolling his boss was the last purely ruthless act he did. I wonder if their previous closeness spoiled it for him. By the time all that business happened earlier in the year, he was practically Zen.”
He shakes himself and politely disengages himself from my grip. “Feeling shaky. Better find a seat before I embarrass myself or my son.” He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Welcome to the family, dear. I’m delighted to bear witness to your happy day.”
My dad sweeps in to take Thaddius’s place before I have time to move. “We’re about to start, I think.”
“Already?” My voice squeaks and I check the time. There should still be two hours to go.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Micah says from behind me, making me jump and then laugh with relief. “But the officiant’s already here, so it seems pointless to wait. It’s not like anyone else is coming.”
Before I can answer, he takes my hand and spins me away to gaze at my dress. His eyes are alight with happiness as they trawl the length of me, fixing on small details before working their way back up to my face.
“So much for staying out of sight until the ceremony.”
“I feel a thousand times luckier laying my eyes on you than being forced apart for another second.” He fusses with my hair, tucking strands into my tight bun, which the hairdresser fixed with so much spray this morning I’m shocked any would dare escape. He runs his thumb along my jawline, eyes feasting on me like they’re soaking up a glorious sunset.
“Yeah,” my dad says, clearing his throat at ten times the volume required. “We’d better get this show on the road.”
