Meeting her friends was a lot of fun. I got a kick out of hearing stories about shy, awkward high-school Claire with braces, and the way they teased each other made it easy to see how well they knew each other. I had the feeling I was there under inspection, so I tried my best to be the kind of guy they’d choose for Claire while still being myself. If I felt less confident than I acted, I hoped it didn’t show.
Aaron and Josie loved her, and my nieces kept asking me if she was my girlfriend. “I guess she is,” I told them one day when I was there alone. “Is that OK?”
“Yes,” said Ava. “Should we call her Aunt Claire?”
“I don’t think just yet.” Josie jumped in to rescue me. “Let’s give Uncle Theo some time to get to know her better before we start calling her ‘Aunt.’” But she’d winked at me. And later my brother had said, “That girl is the real deal. Don’t fuck this up.”
I was doing my best. But this was a new world to me, and I wasn’t always sure I belonged in it.
Most of the time, the magic between us was enough to allay the whispers in the back of my brain, the ones that said things like, Don’t kid yourself, asshole. You’re not what she wants and sooner or later she’s going to realize it. After I met her friends, the voice would add things like, You’ll never be able to give her the things a successful guy like Quinn would. Jack owns forty-four acres, a house, and six horses. What do you own?
Um. A six-year-old SUV? Some tools? A Best Uncle Ever magnet?
The list was embarrassingly paltry.
But I did my best to ignore those voices and bury the worry they produced because Claire made me feel better than anyone ever had. I didn’t have to be anybody else when I was with her, and she didn’t care who I wasn’t. She didn’t care who I’d been in the past. She was happy with me—it was so fucking crazy. I made her happy.
I was starting to think I’d finally bested my demons, finally broken the MacLeod curse, finally reached a time and place in my life I never wanted to leave.
Thirty-One
Claire
* * *
Margot was the calmest bride I’d ever seen.
And the most beautiful.
“How many minutes?” she asked, standing in front of a three-way mirror in the bride’s room at the church. She was the epitome of elegance in an off-the-shoulder ballgown with three-quarter sleeves. Her long blond hair was coiled at her nape into a classic bun from which not one strand escaped. A cathedral-length veil flowed from the top of her bun to beyond the train of her dress, and the diamonds at her ears twinkled in the lights. Jaime and I, her only female attendants, wore long, navy strapless mermaid gowns, diamond earrings (a gift from Margot), and carried white roses.
“About five,” said the coordinator from the doorway. “The grandparents are being seated now.”
“OK. Thank you.” She beamed at her reflection, her perfect white teeth sparkling. “I’m ready.”
I caught her eyes in the mirror. “You look so beautiful, Margot. I should stop looking at you because I keep crying, but I can’t look away.”
She laughed. “No crying. I’m the bride. If I don’t cry, you don’t.” She turned around and looked at me. “But you have the hankie I gave you just in case, right?”
I nodded, showing her where I had it tucked into my palm, hiding by the thick stems of my bouquet. It had been one of her gifts to Jaime and me, delicate lace-trimmed white handkerchiefs monogrammed with our initials. “Got it.”
“Even I might cry,” admitted Jaime. “I’ve held off so far, but I’m a little nervous about the ceremony.”
“No tears,” Margot insisted.
“No promises,” Jaime replied. “God, Margot. I can’t believe this is really it.”
“Me neither.” She shook her head gently, closing her eyes. “OK, I might have spoken too soon about not crying.” Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she took a few deep, calming breaths.
“You OK?” I asked sympathetically.
“Yes. Just emotional. I never thought we’d get here.” She reached for our hands, and Jaime and I each took one. “I love you guys. You’re the best friends I could ever ask for. Thank you for everything you’ve done, and for always being there for me.”
“Oh, God,” Jaime moaned, blinking frantically. “That’s it. My mascara is doomed.”
Margot smiled. “Sorry. I’m almost done being sappy. I just wanted to take a moment and tell you both how happy I am to share today with you.”
“We love you.” I squeezed her hand. “And I could not be happier today if I were the bride.”
“Me either.” Jaime sniffed, composing herself. “You and Jack are perfect together. I’m so happy for you both.”
“OK, ladies. Let’s make our way down.” The coordinator and an assistant helped Margot with her long train, and Jaime and I led the way out of the room, down the stairs, and quietly snuck into the back of the church. It was packed with guests, mostly on Margot’s side, but a fair amount on Jack’s side too. The organ music echoed throughout the beautiful old cathedral, and the pews and altar were decked in flowers.
Margot stayed hidden at the bottom of the stairs. Muffy came over and gave her two air kisses before smiling at Jaime and me. I couldn’t believe how calm she was—my mother would have been a mess—but I supposed that’s where Margot inherited her composure. Senator Lewiston appeared, bestowing a kiss on the bride’s cheek before offering her his arm.