A New Hope (Thunder Point #8)(40)

“Showtime,” Troy said.

* * *

Ginger wept a little when the vows were exchanged, but not because she was seized by sadness from her own past. Just the opposite. She’d never been to a wedding quite like this. It was more than a union of lovers, almost as if best friends were joining together to make a perfect family life. She was so moved by the loving exchange between Grace and Troy, by the joy shared among the guests, a tear or two escaped. And she was hardly the only one. As she glanced around she saw that many shared her sentiment. They were indeed a beautiful bride and groom.

The only person who didn’t seem to be completely charmed by the casual beach wedding was Ray Anne. “I don’t go to weddings in flip-flops,” she groused. “I can’t even move in these shoes.” Quite a few of her friends and Al found humor in the fact that if Ray couldn’t dress up and wear her spike heels, it put her out of sorts. Everyone else seemed to be delighted by the circumstances. Even the bride was soon carrying her sandals in one hand, lifting her gown with the other. But Ginger noticed that before long Al was carrying Ray Anne across the beach to the stairs to Cooper’s bar where his truck was parked.

Ginger enjoyed the goings-on. Children ran and played and there were lots of children—Troy’s nieces and nephew and tons of local kids whose parents were at the wedding. People gathered around the few picnic tables, on beach chairs, enjoying an endless supply of drinks and delicious finger foods. She had on a strappy sundress she’d found in her closet from years ago, something she hadn’t fit into in a long time but had always loved. It was flattering with a jagged hem that fell in an asymmetrical pattern below her knees, like many overlying scarves. The straps crisscrossed in the back. It was an emerald color that really brought out her green eyes. And the late-afternoon sun and breeze gave her a rosy glow. She started out in sandals but in no time she was barefoot like so many others.

She enjoyed the party, brief though it was. Sam flirted with her. Well, Sam flirted with everyone and a couple of hours into the reception he seemed to have found himself an interested young woman. Ginger didn’t know if she was a guest or one of the many who happened down the beach and took advantage of the party. She was wearing a summer dress so Ginger guessed—guest. This was by far the largest gathering she had attended so she was able to visit with new friends and meet a few people for the first time. The couple who had once worked for Winnie and had later trained Grace in the flower business were there. Cooper had taken it upon himself to tend bar, assisting Rawley and Carrie. All her new women friends had their men present—Lou brought her husband, Gina was with Mac, the former town deputy. The Grants were there and Spencer, Devon and the kids. All the usual suspects.

It was around seven, the sun barely lowering in the sky, when the crowd began to thin. Winnie was whisked away in the Rhino, Mikhail was climbing the stairs to her house, the bride and groom were saying goodbye, the bridal arch was carefully loaded into the flower van. Cooper and some of the men were taking charge of trash while Carrie was packing up the little remaining food and Rawley dismantled the serving tables. They were drifting away in all directions—some going up the stairs to Cooper’s because there was a parking lot behind the bar, some heading down the beach to the marina lot, some taking off in their beach-mobiles or vans.

Since Ginger had come from the flower shop in the van with Iris, she was on her own. Iris offered to drop her at home or the shop, but Ginger was quite content to walk slowly across the beach and just enjoy the early evening. The beach was a beautiful place, in all its moods—gray and chilly, stormy, sunny or wet. She strolled, kicking along the cold water’s edge.

When she got near the marina, she saw a familiar face. He was leaning against the front bumper of his truck, one leg crossed over the other, holding a bottled water, watching her, smiling. Matt.

“Let me guess. You’re stalking me,” she said.

“Nah. Just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wondered how you’d feel after the wedding. You wouldn’t go to Peyton’s ceremony. Memories, you said.”

“You should have told me you wanted to drive down. I could’ve invited you. I was allowed a guest.”

“I knew you’d be busy,” he said. “Working.”

She tilted her head to one side. “What if I’d been with a guy?”

“If you’d planned that, you would have mentioned it. I don’t know everything about you, Ginger, but I know you’re honest. And up front. You’ve told me a lot more about your issues than I’ve told you about mine.”

“I noticed that. So, you’re here because...?”

“You might want someone to talk to,” he said with a shrug. “How was it?”

“It was perfect,” she said, smiling. “Very informal and perfect. It was almost like a bunch of people were having a party on the beach and two broke away from the gathering to get married. People were standing around, visiting, having a drink. Then the judge—the same judge who married Iris and Seth, I take it—stood by the arch, cleared his throat and it began. Troy and Grace stepped up in front of him, the traditional vows were repeated, they said a few sweet things to each other and that was it. A kiss—extralong, I think. Then it was back to mingling and enjoying the day.” She looked up and around. “Perfect day for it.”