Page 35 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
‘How did you know making a wish was what I was going to do? There might be a pinball machine around the corner.’
‘Ah, yes. Pinball. Very on brand for a Spanish mission.’
‘One of those and a claw machine, and they’ll have new converts lining up.’
Mort snorted.
Closing her eyes, Lily tossed her coin in the fountain. Well, she tried. It clinked off the edge of the fountain and bounced off into the bushes. ‘Noo,’ she moaned. ‘And I had such a good wish, too!’
‘Do tell.’
‘A woman never tells.’
‘It was about the switcheroo, wasn’t it.’
Lily zipped her lips.
Mort stooped, then straightened. He opened his hand, revealing the slightly muddied quarter. ‘Want to try again?’
Lily winced. ‘I don’t trust my aim. Here, let’s do this.’ She pressed her palm against the back of his hand, trying to ignore the warmth of it, the way he seemed to angle his arm just slightly towards her, so that his bare forearm brushed hers … But was she trying, really? Was she not thinking about pressing up against him and letting him wrap those arms around her, about kissing the damned grief out of him, showing him that maybe, maybe, there was more to life than death?
Shut up, brain.
Because if she let the impulsive side of her win out, things would be weird. Well, more weird. And there was already plenty of weird to go around.
‘We’ll split the wish,’ she said valiantly, her voice definitely not cracking under the weight of all the unspoken thoughts her brain had been sending its way, only to yank them back at the very last second. ‘On the count of three …’
She counted down, and together they hoisted the coin into the fountain. A few flips, and it plopped into the water with minimal fanfare. A tiny frog blinked up at them, disappointed at their pathetic theatrics.
‘Well, I guess we’ll see if it worked when we get back,’ said Mort.
‘If there’s a freezer full of gelato in my kitchen, you’ll know it did.’
‘Excellent priorities there,’ said Mort. ‘Do you want to explore the grounds, just quickly?’
Lily clapped her hands. ‘Do I ever!’
‘I used to wander around here as a kid,’ said Mort.
‘Ah, so you’ve always been weird.’
‘I used to get ammo from my slingshot off that tree.’ He pointed to a massive, stooping olive tree shaped like a ballet dancer mid arabesque. ‘And there was a nest of wrens that would rebuild every year. They had the prettiest eggs. And Father Bronson would sit on that bench drinking sacramental wine as he watched the sunsets.’
Lily chuckled. ‘Part of his duties, I’m sure.’
‘So much blood of Christ. It was like a transfusion centre.’ He guided her to the huge double doors that led to the chapel, then pulled one open a crack, peering in. ‘Take a peek.’
Lily gasped at the sight of it: all rough-hewn wood and soaring buttresses that came together like the hull of a ship. Crystal chandeliers winked at her. It wasn’t the grandest space she’d seen, but it was majestic in its own way.
‘Impressive, no? But the real tour de force is over here.’ Gently closing the massive wooden door, Mort led Lily down a tiled garden path from which wildflowers sprouted from every crack and divot. It was so beautiful, and in her colourful outfit, Lily felt just right.
Before them, sun was starting to drift down in the sky, setting the evening clouds alight with stripes of pink and purple. All the world had become the most glorious ice-cream sundae.
‘This place really is perfect,’ said Lily.
Mort’s dark eyes twinkled as he led Lily to a wire fence framed with ancient wooden posts. Behind the fence lay a sprawling field overhung with massive trees and afire with wildflowers: patches of purple and yellow dotted the grass, and California poppies waved their pretty heads in the delicate breeze. ‘And now, for the best bit.’
Lily cocked her head. Was it wise to be heading off into the woods with a man she barely knew? Or worse, climbing a fencewearing an excellent thrifted dress she’d never be able to find again?
