Chapter 26
Lily got married the next summer.
We had the wedding in the garden, under the same arch of white roses where Clara and I had gotten married. She wore Clara’s wedding dress, altered a little to fit her, and she looked just like her mom had, twenty years before. My father would have been so proud to walk her down the aisle, but Uncle Martin did it instead, crying the whole way.
Her husband was a good man, kind and smart, and he loved her more than anything. I gave a speech at the reception, telling the story of how Clara and I had met, how love could come from the most unexpected places, how the only thing that mattered in life was the people you loved. Everyone cried.
Clara and I danced together at the reception, just like we had at our own wedding.
“Remember when we thought we’d never be happy?” she said.
I laughed. “We were so stupid. So young and scared.”
“Not stupid,” she said. “Just hurt. But we healed. Together.”
We held each other close, watching Lily dance with her new husband, watching Jamie dance with his girlfriend, watching the twins dance with their friends. Our family was growing, changing, but it was still ours. Still perfect.
A year later, Lily had a baby boy. We were grandparents. We named him Ethan, after me, and he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I held him for the first time, and I cried, just like I’d cried when I held Lily for the first time. I promised him I’d always protect him, always love him, always be there for him, just like I’d been for my own kids.
Clara was the best grandmother in the world, spoiling him rotten, singing him the same lullabies she’d sung to our kids, teaching him to say “nana” before he could say anything else.
Jamie took over the company a few years later, running it better than I ever had. He was fair, and smart, and he cared about the people who worked for him, just like his mom. I retired, finally, spending my days gardening and playing golf and spoiling my grandson.
Clara retired, too, turning the foundation over to Lily, who ran it with the same passion and kindness her mom had. Clara spent her days painting and reading and playing with the baby, and she was happier than she’d ever been.
Rose had her first art show in New York, selling every painting in the first hour. Thomas’s band got a record deal, and they went on tour, playing sold-out shows all over the country. We went to every one we could, cheering in the front row, so proud we could burst.
Life was perfect.
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It was full, and happy, and full of love.
And I knew, without a doubt, that it had all started that night in the ballroom, when a quiet maid had knelt down beside a broken man and changed his life forever.
