I didn’t know it because I could see him.
I knew it because I could hear him.
“No one’sgonnahurt you.No one’sgonnadare,” his deep voice sounded.
Oh my God.
He was sing-talkingà laBono to our little Pooks.
But better.
I pressed my back to the wall and closed my eyes.
Mo’s voice came back.
“Whistle, I’ll be there.”
Oh God.
That was my baby’s daddy.
My man.
He kept going.
“Nothing can harm you.Not while I’m around.”
I had to swallow the sob that soared up my throat.
I opened my eyes and lifted my hand, staring at the big rockMo had planted there during our first vacation together.The one we took inHawaii.
It was nestled above a wide gold band that had a match, theone on Mo’s finger.
Our wedding had beenthe best.
Even better than Jet’s, and she’d had a hayride.
And my gown had kicked Roxie’s gown’s ass.Sheer bodice andlong sleeves with a full sheer skirt, all covered in sparkling diamanté.Plunging neckline that nearly went down to my navel, slit in the skirt thatwent up to my left hip, all this stitched to a bodysuit that covered only theimportant bits.
Outside the pictures of me with Mo, the pic of Tex escortingme down the aisle with my skirt flying out behind me, my left leg exposed fromthe hip down in full stride, me smiling so big at Mo, even in a picture, it wasblinding, and Tex wearing his lunatic grin was my favorite.
Jet had been my matron of honor.
Mag had been Mo’s best man.
And Mom had sat between Tex and my dad in the front rowafter Tex gave me away, Dad smiling huge, fighting tears but not fighting thatwas the place he needed to be.Just happy he got the honor of being there atall.
By the way, Mo’s dad wasn’t invited.
But he did send us a wedding card with a hundred-dollar billin it through the mail, writing that he hoped Mo was happy in a way thatscreamed it was tentatively…and hopefully.
Mo didn’t grab that olive branch.
His father had hurt his mother, his sisters.
For a man like Mo, there was no coming back from that.
Not while he was around.
