“Only you know what you saw, cher. But I felt her presence.”
“Then it was real? She was really here, with us?”
Warmth filled Marjorie’s gaze as she clasped both of Dana’s hands in hers. “What I know for certain is there is one singular belief we all share, and it’s more powerful than anything. Hope. Without it, all is lost. That is what the presence was trying to convey. Hold onto hope, child. It will never lead you astray.”
And with that, they stepped out into the cool night air, leaving behind the shadows of Crescent City Books but carrying with them the weight of unanswered questions and unspoken truths.
117
George sat across from Dana.She wore a dark green silk dress, her untouched wine glass clutched in her hand. All night, he’d watched her smile and nod at all the right times, but he could tell she was stuck somewhere else.
Truth be told, so was he. George was just more practiced at hiding it.
After what the case had put them through, it was a miracle she was still standing, let alone making polite conversation with his family. Knowing it was about time to rescue her, George stood.
He walked around the long white linen-clothed tables in Muriel’s private upstairs dining room. The wedding party and most of his extended family were in attendance, trading stories and laughter and endless toasts to Cadie and Neville.
It made George wonder what the point of the big ass party tomorrow was.
He didn’t get weddings. Sure, the ceremony and institution was something he could get behind—or at least it used to be. But the expense and pressure that came with it all, thanks to the booming wedding industry, was a bit too extreme for his taste.
He’d always wanted to run off to some exotic destination with his other half and get down to the honeymoon.
Images of Sophie came to him, unbidden. The ring he’d bought her … The nuptials they’d never had a chance to exchange … It’s why he tended to avoid situations like these, rather than be reminded of what he’d lost.
George was selfishly relieved when Dana agreed to join him tonight. Not just because they both needed reminding there was joy in the world—and if Muriel’s crawfish crepes didn’t prove life was worth livin’, nothing would. But because he’d hoped showing up with a date on his arm would keep the pitying looks from being cast his way. What he hadn’t anticipated was having to endure endless questions after explaining he and Dana were just colleagues.
Shelving his frustration, George rounded the table only to be sidelined by his mother.
She pulled him into a tight embrace. “There’s my boy.”
“Hey Mama,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Aren’t they so lovely?” she asked, gazing across the room at Cadie who beamed up at Neville like he’d just handed her the moon and stars.
One look at his sister’s glowing face and George knew if a big fancy over the top wedding like this was what Sophie had wanted, he would’ve given it to her in a heartbeat. His chest squeezed, like it always did when he thought of his former fiancée, but for the first time, he didn’t turn away from the pain. He tried to welcome it.
What Dana said had stuck with George.
Sophie was a ghost he was grateful to have. Enduring their painful memories meant a part of her was still with him, living on in the world, guiding him. He decided that was something he never wanted to let go of. So, if that meant he had ghosts, so be it.
“I love seeing my babies so happy,” his mother said, putting both her hands on his cheeks. “That means you too, son.”
“I know.”
“Where’s Dana?” she asked.
George spotted her empty seat and looked around. “I was just on my way to go find her.”
“Good boy,” she said, patting his cheek. “She’s good for you,” his mother called after him, but George pretended not to hear as he dodged another of his aunties.
George found Dana outside on the second-floor balcony overlooking Jackson Square. Her wine glass sat on the marble table next to her, still untouched.
“Wine no good?” he asked.
She jumped. “Oh, no … I’m just not in the mood.”
George came to stand next to her at the old wrought iron railing. He didn’t know what color it had begun as, but time and nature had created an oxidized green hue. “Always loved the view from up here.”