Margot Emory, grinning. I never thought I’d see the day.
My cousin Roslyn stood up to sing “Fields of Gold,” with the harp and cello accompanying her. This was the first time Connor had the chance to hear her, since I’d kept McAllister involvement in our own wedding to a minimum in order not to ruffle any Wilcox feathers. But I felt rather than saw him startle and sit up a little straighter, as if surprised that the McAllister clan had been hiding such a songbird in their midst.
When the song was over, everyone got up so the hotel staff could reconfigure the space into a reception room. In the meantime, we all squeezed into the bar area as best we could. Because Lucas had set up the whole thing, naturally there was an open bar, and people could order what they wanted. As for myself, all I wanted was that champagne.
Connor got a glass for me and one for himself, and the two of us and Sydney and Anthony found a spot off to one side where we could say hello to whoever wanted to stop by. I found myself promising numerous cousins that yes, I’d be home the following day, so they could drop by and see the twins then. All right, it would be Christmas Eve day, but we figured the visits would be done soon enough that everyone could get back to their respective households for their own celebrations. On Christmas Day itself, the McAllisters took over Spook Hall and had a communal love feast, for lack of a better word.
But Rachel had already offered to come over and make her famous rib roast on Christmas Eve, so I knew she’d be around to shoo anyone away if they lingered too long. I was glad I had this chance to see Sydney and Anthony, because I knew I was going to be busy with family for the next few days after this.
My friend had been quiet and respectful during the ceremony, but now that she and Anthony had snagged their own glasses of champagne, she was ready to chatter.
“Wow, your cousin looks like a movie star!” she exclaimed. A pause, then, “That is, she is your cousin, right?”
“We’re all cousins in some way or another,” I pointed out. “But yeah…maybe fourth or fifth on her mother’s side. Her father’s an Italian artist.”
“I knew it!” Sydney said. “She looks way too glam to be just a McAllister.”
“Gee, thanks,” I replied, while Connor started to laugh and then tried to hide his reaction by taking a large swallow of champagne.
Unfazed, Sydney said, “Oh, come on. You know you guys are the crunchy-granola family.”
Considering the boho look the majority of my clan members had adopted, I knew I couldn’t really contradict her. So I lifted my shoulders and drank some of my champagne.
Looking pleased that she’d scored a point, Sydney went on, “So…what did you think of her dress?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Kind of plain?”
“I think it suits her.”
Sydney digested that statement for a moment. “Well, yeah. It’s just now I’m starting to wonder if I went kind of overboard with mine. Maybe something without so much beading — ”
“I thought you loved that dress,” Anthony said, looking dismayed. I couldn’t blame him. The Goddess only knew how many hours of his life he’d had consumed by listening to Sydney dissect the relative merits of a mermaid-style dress over an A-line, or satin versus lace. And I had a feeling she hadn’t told him how much the gown had actually cost.
“Well, I do.” Her lips pursed, and she tilted her head to one side. “Or at least, I thought I did.”
“It’s a gorgeous dress, Syd,” I said honestly. And it was. Not exactly to my taste, since I tended to go for simpler things than she did, but I was with her when she tried it on, and it suited her figure and her golden-girl looks to perfection. “But I don’t want to discuss it anymore in front of Anthony, or he’s going to start guessing what it looks like.”
He shot me a look of thanks at that intervention, even if he didn’t quite mouth the words thank you.
“Okay, fine.” She drank some of her champagne and gave the glass an appreciative glance, even as she slanted a smile up at Connor. “Your cousin likes the good stuff, doesn’t he?”
Amusement lit up my husband’s green eyes. “Well, let’s just say he’s someone who appreciates the finer things in life.”
Sydney opened her mouth to reply, but right then one of the hotel staff came in and announced that everything had been set up for dinner, so we all dutifully filed back into the dining area and took our seats. I’d asked Lucas if Sydney and Anthony could sit with us, so I didn’t have to worry about them being around any McAllister cousins who might slip and mention something witch-related. Because the restaurant was owned and operated by civilians, we knew we needed to be on our best behavior. Even so, you couldn’t always monitor what people ended up saying at the dinner table after they’d had a few glasses of champagne, and while Sydney knew the truth about us McAllisters, Anthony didn’t. Maybe that situation would change in the future, but in the meantime, better to be safe.
Also sitting at the table were my Aunt Rachel and her fiancé Tobias, and Margot’s mother Sylvia. She was also glowing, and who could blame her? From certain hints she’d dropped, I’d gotten the impression that she didn’t have a problem with Lucas being a Wilcox at all. Really, anyone who didn’t want Lucas as a son-in-law would have to have a few screws loose.
Sylvia asked about the twins, and I explained that Tricia was watching them. She nodded, but I couldn’t help noticing the way her gaze slid toward her newly married daughter. Did Margot and Lucas plan to have children? I didn’t know Margot well enough to even ask. True, she was in her late thirties, but she still had time if she and Lucas really wanted to start a family. Maybe not. I loved Ian and Emily with a fierceness that surprised even me, but that didn’t mean I thought everyone should have kids. It was entirely possible that Lucas and Margot planned to simply enjoy one another’s company.
I didn’t know if I would ever admit it to anyone, but, deep down, I wished that I hadn’t gotten pregnant so soon…not that I would give up my beautiful babies for anything in the world. Every once in a while, though, I did think it might have been nice for Connor and me to have more time together just as a couple before we had to be parents as well.
But that wasn’t what the universe had planned for us, and so far we’d done a decent job of rolling with it. At least we had a more or less an unlimited supply of babysitters in both our clans, should the need arise.
The salads came out then, and conversation slowed, although Connor and Anthony did keep up their discussion about the vineyard Anthony was overseeing and which Connor was quietly bankrolling. The operation was in its beginning stages, but no less time-intensive for all that, since the property had established vines already, and Anthony was having to babysit them through the winter. No, they didn’t get much snow down in the lower parts of the Verde Valley, unlike up in Jerome, but hard frosts were still a worry.
Sydney tried not to look bored by the technical talk and asked Sylvia Emory, “So what are Margot and Lucas doing for their honeymoon?”
I pricked up my ears at that question, since I hadn’t been privy to any details about their plans for after the wedding. No reason why I should have been; it wasn’t like they needed my permission to travel…although they’d need the permission of Maya de la Paz if they planned to head south. For some reason, I assumed that was what they’d probably do, since Connor and I had also gone to the southern part of Arizona for our own honeymoon.
To my surprise, Sylvia said, “They’re going to New Mexico. Santa Fe. Apparently the Wilcoxes are on good terms with the clan there — the Castillos. Since Margot has never been out of Arizona before, she’s really looking forward to it.”
I did sort of dimly recall hearing that the Wilcox clan didn’t share the same animosity with the New Mexico witch families as it had with those in its own state, but I hadn’t even considered the possibility that might be where Lucas and Margot were headed. Well, good for them. There was supposed to be a lot of culture in Santa Fe — museums and live music and
art galleries and all kinds of fabulous restaurants. They’d probably have a great time.
“So they’re traveling at Christmas?” I asked, and Sylvia shook her head.
“No, they’re going back up to Flagstaff tomorrow to spend the holiday with the family there, and then they’ll leave on the twenty-sixth and come back after New Year’s.”
That sounded like fun, even if it meant I probably wouldn’t get to see the happy couple after today. At least I was here now, and they’d get a real honeymoon in a new and exciting place. I wondered if Lucas had ever been to Santa Fe before, or whether this would be the first time for both of them.
“I’ve never been to New Mexico,” Sydney said. “Anthony and I are going to San Diego after our wedding, but that won’t be until the spring. I hope the weather will be nice.”
I told her I thought it should be fine, but inwardly I reflected that I sure wasn’t in any hurry to return to California. Yes, I’d learned important truths about my past there. On the other hand, Connor and I had also run into some pretty nasty warlocks on our way home, and although I knew those young men weren’t representative of the California witch clans as a whole, I still didn’t have any desire to repeat the experience.
Sylvia made a wistful comment about wishing she could visit California one day. Anthony looked somewhat puzzled by her remark; he couldn’t know that, as a rule, witches and warlocks didn’t venture very far from their home territories. All he could probably see was an older woman of some means, judging by the jewelry she wore, and so he was most likely wondering why she couldn’t just pick up and go to California if she felt like it.
The waiters reappeared at that point to remove our salad plates, and the moment was gone, Sydney chattering away about her own wedding plans. I had no idea whether her intervention was intentional or not, but I definitely welcomed it. While I was beginning to share Anthony’s attitude about the wedding — i.e., my eyes started to glaze over whenever Syd got too detailed — right then I was glad of the distraction. You could brush off not traveling to Europe or Asia because of a fear of flying, but that was a little harder to do when talking about the state next door.
And then my aunt asked how long we were planning to stay here in Jerome, since I hadn’t been definite the last time we spoke. “At least until a few days after Christmas. We have New Year’s plans — and a babysitter,” I added quickly, because I could see Sylvia’s penciled brows draw together at even the thought that we might be taking our children out in the cold when they were so young. “Connor’s cousin Eleanor is going to watch them for us.”
“Ah,” Sylvia replied, appearing to relax a bit. “Well, that sounds like fun.”
I hoped it would be. We’d had a good time last year when we went, although I doubted we’d get quite as inebriated this year. We couldn’t just walk home from the pinecone drop in downtown Flagstaff anymore; the house where we lived now was a good five miles away.
The conversation ebbed and flowed after that, while the main course of maple duck breast was served and the waiters came and went with their bottles of champagne. I had to put my hand over my glass after the second fill-up, because that stuff was flowing like water.
And eventually the toasts came around, with Connor standing up and saying a few words, since he was Lucas’ cousin and the head of their clan. Then it was my turn, which I hated, because being the center of attention wasn’t anything I ever intentionally sought. But I was the prima, and because the connection between our two families was still pretty new and fragile, I needed to show that I was here for the McAllisters, even if I had been spending most of my time in Wilcox territory during the past few months.
I stood up, acutely conscious of all those pairs of eyes on me. Lucas and Margot were smiling, their fingers twined around one another where they rested on the tabletop. Seeing them like that, witnessing the palpable love and happiness that surrounded them, I realized this wouldn’t be as hard as I’d feared it would be.
“We’ve all seen a lot of changes over the past few months,” I said. “Some large, some not quite as earth-shattering. And I can’t think of anything that symbolizes the changes we’ve seen more than this gathering here, McAllisters and Wilcoxes together, celebrating the joining of Lucas Wilcox and Margot Emory. I think they’re living proof that good things come to those who wait.”
A raucous clinking of glasses followed my statement, and Lucas leaned in to steal a kiss from his new wife. Color flamed along cheekbones. His family calls Lucas ‘Lucky Lucas.’ Well, I think we can all agree that today he’s got to be one of the luckiest men alive.” I held my champagne glass high. “So here’s to Lucas and Margot — may they share in that luck for the rest of their lives!”
A chorus of “hear, hear,” and everyone raised their glasses and toasted the couple. Relieved that I’d done my duty, I sank back into my chair and allowed myself an extra swallow of champagne. Under the table, Connor reached over and gave my leg a little squeeze. He knew how much I’d been dreading having to stand up in front of everyone and speak.
Now the moment was past, though, and more toasts were made before the cake was brought out. Lucas popped a piece of cake in Margot’s mouth with the precision of a fighter plane landing on an aircraft carrier; I guessed she’d warned him with bodily harm if he tried to get too crazy about feeding her the cake. At least, I’d done the same thing with Connor, and I had a feeling Margot was just as uptight about that sort of thing as I was.
She fed him with the same precision, and then the wait staff swooped in to take over and finish cutting the cake. My table got the first round of slices — rank hath its privileges, after all, and I sure wasn’t going to argue with dark chocolate cake with cream frosting and cream custard as the filling.
The venue wasn’t big enough for dancing, so having the cake and a final round of champagne more or less put the period on the event. I wondered if that had been a compromise they’d made for having the wedding here in Jerome, or whether Margot just wasn’t into dancing. But she’d danced with Lucas at my wedding reception. Looking back, I realized that had to have been the start of it all, even though at the time she hadn’t looked all that thrilled to be dancing with a Wilcox.
Well, she definitely seemed thrilled to be with one now.
People started to wander out in small groups, so I got up and made my way over to where Margot and Lucas stood. They’d been talking with Boyd Willis, one of the McAllister elders, but he excused himself when I approached.
“I hear you’re off to Santa Fe,” I said.
Margot beamed. Had Margot ever beamed before in her life?
“Yes, the day after Christmas. We’ll head home tonight and spend a few days in Flagstaff before we head out.” She still held Lucas’ hand, where a new band of platinum gleamed on his ring finger.
“That sounds like fun, although I’m sorry you won’t stay in Jerome for Christmas.”
Lucas said, “We decided that since the wedding was here, we’d give the Wilcoxes a little love for Christmas.” His dark eyes twinkled as he added, “Anyway, I thought you pagans didn’t even celebrate the holiday.”
“Some of us don’t,” I replied, refusing to be offended by the term “pagan.” That’s exactly what some of us were, after all, and besides, Lucas was one of those people who could get away with saying almost anything. “But some do, or at least use it as an excuse to decorate trees and eat and drink too much.”
“I’d say that sounds like a pretty good excuse.” He grinned down at Margot. “Maybe we should have stayed in Jerome after all.”
“Next year,” she said, smiling as well. I still wasn’t used to Margot looking so relaxed. In the past, her smiles had always seemed tight somehow, as if she had to force them out, or was thinking of some unpleasant duty she had to undertake, even as she was talking to you and trying to be polite.
“It’s a deal.”
I told them we should all plan on that, and headed back to join up with the rest of the group. My A
unt Rachel and Tobias had already left, but I knew I’d be seeing them the following day. And it was time for Connor and me to be getting back anyway. Tricia had done us a huge favor by watching the twins for us, and I didn’t want to impose too much on her hospitality. She had to have holiday preparations of her own she needed to take care of.
So we all made our goodbyes, and I hugged Sydney and Anthony and told them they needed to come up to Flagstaff soon for a visit. They wouldn’t be with us for New Year’s because one of his cousins had offered his Scottsdale timeshare for that week, and Syd and Anthony had jumped at the chance. “I’ll get to lie out in the sun on New Year’s Day!” Sydney had told me in some excitement. Frankly, I wanted New Year’s to feel like New Year’s, but if she wanted to wear shorts and flip-flops to ring in the new year, so be it.
When we got home, Tricia informed us that the twins had been absolute angels, and had woken up and had a bottle and gone promptly to sleep again after being changed. Which sounded great on the surface, but meant I’d probably be up at midnight with a couple of fussy babies who’d suddenly realized they’d had enough of this sleeping thing and needed some mommy time.
Even though Tricia assured us they were sleeping happily, Connor and I had to go upstairs to check on them after she left. Sure enough, they were two passed-out little babies, dark lashes fanned against their chubby cheeks.
“See?” Connor said quietly. “Everything’s fine. So you can put your feet up for a while.”
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