It made Frankie want to laugh, and in trying not to laugh she forgot to feel tense about the prospect of sitting in the front row at someone’s wedding.
“Are you planning on doing that on Main Street?”
“It’s possible. I’ll try and let you know before it happens.” Matt took her hand and led her to the front. Some faces she knew, and some she didn’t. Some said how pleased they were to see her back on the island, some said how pleased they were she’d found flowers she could use for Emily. All were welcoming and friendly.
Finally, she slid into a spare seat in the front row. “I shouldn’t be sitting here.”
Matt sat down next to her. “Smile. You’re going to have fun.”
She wanted to ask how he thought she’d have fun when Hilda sat down on her other side.
“Remember, once an islander, always an islander.” She patted Frankie on the knee before turning to talk to the woman on the other side of her.
Frankie glanced around, saw soft smiles and misty eyes and wondered what was wrong with her. She felt nothing except faint panic and mild nausea.
To distract herself she focused on the small group of children who were fidgeting and holding recorders ready to play and then on Ryan, who was standing with another tall, dark-haired man who looked familiar.
She was trying to work out where she’d seen him before when Matt leaned toward her.
“He’s the Shipwreck Hunter.”
“Excuse me?”
“That guy you’re staring at, wondering where you’ve seen him before? His name is Alec Hunter. He’s a historian. He presented that series on shipwrecks that kept most of the nation’s women glued to their TV sets.”
“Of course.” She’d loved every moment of that series, and she’d bought his book. She was about to ask Matt another question when the crowd fell silent and the group of children started playing their recorders.
Because she was still looking at Alec, Frankie witnessed the exact moment Ryan turned his head and saw Emily. It was a rare moment
of unguarded emotion. Everything he felt showed in his eyes. She wondered how anyone had the courage to give that much of themselves.
Emily finally reached the front and Frankie automatically checked the bouquet. Considering how little time she’d had, and the restricted materials, she was satisfied. The shape ensured that it drew the eye away from Emily’s bump, not that either she or Ryan seemed to be disguising the fact that she was pregnant. Ignoring protocol, Ryan lowered his head to Emily’s and kissed her until the little girl standing next to them gave his jacket an impatient tug.
Brittany grinned at her in sympathy. “Ryan, you’re supposed to kiss the bride after the ceremony,” she said, and the little girl giggled.
She was holding the posy Frankie had made; her blond hair was caught up in a glittery tiara, but what really made Frankie smile was the pair of fairy wings she’d clearly insisted on wearing.
Hadn’t Eva had a pair at that age? Whenever they’d played make-believe games, Eva had been a fairy. Frankie had chosen elf or wizard.
Her mind wandered and she barely heard the words that Emily and Ryan exchanged.
Halfway through Lizzy started fidgeting and Ryan scooped her into his arms, holding her while he and Emily finished exchanging vows.
Frankie watched as the little girl’s hand closed over his shoulder. Something about the way Ryan held the child made her throat thicken. Lizzy was at that age where she believed adults had all the answers, and that daddies were heroes.
Once, she’d thought the same.
Coming to terms with the realities of her father’s human frailties had been part of her transition from child to adult.
She saw the way Ryan was looking at Emily and wondered if her father had looked at her mother the same way on their wedding day.
At what point had it all gone wrong? Had it been good at the beginning and gradually fractured or had there been flaws, weaknesses, from the start?
As she watched, Ryan took Emily’s hand and Frankie stared, mesmerized by their entwined fingers, slender and delicate threaded through firm and strong.
In the background she heard their voices as they spoke, but all she saw were those clasped hands. They were holding each other as if they had no intention of ever letting go.
And then the ceremony was over and Frankie saw Ryan slide his hand behind Emily’s head and lower his mouth gently to hers.