Page 55 of Queen's Ransom

Helena leaned in for a kiss, which Celia returned, though not as fervently as she would have liked, careful not to mess up their makeup. Helena drew back and zipped up the robe. “Closest I’ll ever get to these.”

“You regret that?”

“Heck no.” She handed Celia her folio and adjusted the robe on her shoulders. “One, this thing is hot and scratchy. Two, I can do more good on this side of the bench.”

Celia gave her a deeper kiss, damn the makeup. “You’re remarkable.”

Helena smiled against her lips. “So are you.” When they came up for air, Celia thumbed away an errant smudge of lipstick she’d left on Helena, who did the same for her. “You know what else is remarkable?” Helena said. “This weather. How did they get this lucky?”

Despite the rainiest January in Celia’s recent memory, her brother had managed to get perfect weather on his wedding day—a balmy seventy degrees and not a rain cloud or fog bank in sight. “They deserve it.”

“Can’t argue that.”

But someone was arguing, Lily’s whimpers a soundtrack to the rough and weary voices behind a nearby exhibit wall. “I’m surprised you showed up,” Holt said.

“Do you want me to leave?” Brax replied.

Celia shot a worried glance at Helena, who lifted a hand, signaling to wait.

“Of course I don’t want you to leave,” Holt said. “You’re family. This is supposed to be a happy day for our family.”

Lily’s whimpers escalated to soft cries as if sensing her Da-Da and Ba-Ba arguing.

“I’ll go,” Brax said.

“Cap, don’t, please.”

“Ba-Ba!” Lily chipped in, and Celia knew Brax’s heart had to be breaking.

Holt’s too. “Why are you pushing us away?”

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Celia rubbed a hand over her chest, her heart aching for how much that must have hurt Brax to say and for how much it must have hurt Holt to hear.

“Is this about what Chris said last summer?”

As Gloria approached with Mia and Marco, Celia shot Helena another look. They couldn’t wait any longer. “I got it,” Helena said, heading the direction of Holt’s and Brax’s voices.

“Are you guys looking forward to the trolley?” Celia asked, aiming to distract her kids from the nearby argument.

Marco fiddled with his light blue bowtie. “Think they’ll let me drive it?”

Mia, in a matching blue dress, slapped his hand away. “Leave it alone, and no you can’t drive it. You don’t have a license.”

“It’s on tracks,” Marco countered. “I can push a handle.”

“I’m more interested in the food after,” Gloria said. “Never thought I’d be going to a wedding reception at Gary Danko.”

Neither had Celia. Before Chris had met Hawes for the first time at Danko, Celia had never visited the famous San Francisco establishment. Now, it was a regular go-to for Madigan-Perri family events, including today’s wedding. She half suspected Chris and Hawes had picked the Maritime Museum for their nuptials because it was a short walk—or trolley ride—to the restaurant.

“Ooh, yeah,” Marco said. “Especially the dessert table.”

“You better not eat everything on it before we get there,” Chris said, entering arm in arm with his very-soon-to-be husband.

Gloria shook a finger at them both. “You’re not supposed to see each other yet.”

“Oh, I just saw him,” Chris said with a cheeky grin. “In the coat closet.”

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