“Where are we supposed tosleep?” Junie fretted.
That was the first night that Cary slept with Shiloh under the same roof as her kids. He didn’t sleep well. She kept getting up to check on them.
The next day was better. Juniper saw that Cary had framed one of her drawings—the first one. And Gus was reassured by the Disney Channel.
Cary took them to the beach and the zoo.
Shiloh had never been to Disneyland, which meant the kids had never been to Disneyland, which meant Cary got to take them all for the first time. He felt like a king on earth.
Because of the way the rides worked, it was always Cary in one car with one kid, and Shiloh in another car with the other. Or sometimes—Shiloh and both kids in a car, and Cary by himself.
They spent the whole day in separate elephants and pirate ships.
“I’m sorry,” Shiloh said, between lines and rides. While they were all eating popcorn and waiting for a parade. She was smiling sadly at him.
“Why?”
“I know it’s not fair to you, to spend so much of your life taking care of someone else’s kids.”
Cary licked his bottom lip. His eyes were very narrow. “I need you to stop calling them that, with me, even though it’s true.”
“Sorry.” Shiloh slipped her hand backward into one of his hip pockets. It was a new habit.
“I’m so happy right now,” Cary said. It came out serious. Solemn. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t believe him.
Shiloh looked in his eyes. “Really?”
He nodded. “Don’t begrudge me this life.”
Eighty-Three
There was a very fancy uniform that Cary could wear to his wedding. A white coat and dark pants. His mom had been angling for it. Shiloh had initially agreed, but then she’d changed her mind.
On this one day, she didn’t want to think about the Navy. She wanted to think about the man.
So Cary was wearing the navy blue suit he’d bought for Mikey’s wedding. (Janine had been right after all—hewaswearing it again.) He had a white rose boutonniere, and he’d grown his hair out as long as the Navy would let him. It was long enough to look blond again in direct sunlight. Shiloh couldn’t get enough of it.
Shiloh was wearing a white lace, fifties-style wedding dress. A-line, tea-length, with white gloves and a little jacket. She’d hired a woman in the costume shop to make it for her. (Not Kate.)
Junie got to pick the color of her flower girl dress. She wanted pink. Gus wore navy shorts and suspenders, with a pink clip-on bow tie. He wanted to throw flowers with Junie instead of carrying the ring.
Shiloh and Cary got married in Miller Park and had the reception down the street in the youth wrestling hall. (Janine still had all the tulle and Christmas lights in her garage. Shiloh borrowed them.)
Shiloh hadn’t wanted a bridal dance. She didn’t want to dance with everyone watching her—it made her skin crawl.
“But you’re anactress,”Cary argued.“People stare at you all the time.”
“I don’t want them staring at me when I’m actually being me.”
That meant the first dance of the night was Cary and his mom. Lois hadzeroissues with everyone staring at her. She was wearing a new dress. Pink, like Junie’s. She left her walker at the table, and Cary supported her.
Shiloh watched from the side of the dance floor, holding Gus on her hip, even though he was too big for it.
Cary kept looking over at Shiloh. She’d honestly never seen him this happy. The lines in his cheeks hadn’t disappeared all day.
Lois had picked the song for the mother-son dance—“Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac, which Shiloh hadn’t been expecting. (She would have bet on something country.) It was making Shiloh cry. She swayed to the music with Gus-Gus. Junie was leaning into Shiloh’s skirt. Shiloh put a hand on her head.
When the song was half over, Mikey jogged over to Shiloh’s mom and dragged her out onto the dance floor, too. That made tears spill down Shiloh’s cheeks. She hoped that Lois wouldn’t mind sharing the spotlight—but, no, Lois was smiling. Everyone was smiling but Shiloh.
