There was much nose blowing and eye wiping? by men as well as women? as the happy couple made the return trip up the aisle, but merriment prevailed when we showered them with birdseed—which, according to the vicar, was more ecologically sound than rice—and applauded the carriage as it and its mounted escort clipclopped jauntily away from the church.
Bill, Willis, Sr., and I paused to pay our respects to the Pym sisters before we drove to the reception. The twin graves were awash with fragrant spring blossoms and marked with one headstone into which had been carved the sisters’ favorite verse from the Bible. They’d chosen a simple and well-known verse that, I believed, reflected their greathearted view of the cosmos.
GODIS LOVE;
AND HE THAT DWELLETH IN LOVE
DWELLETH IN GOD,
AND GOD IN HIM.
—JOHN IV:16
“And here comes Aroha herself,” I murmured, smiling as Bree approached.
Bree had spent most of the winter reading the gardening books she’d inherited from her great-grandaunts and discussing the contents with Emma. She couldn’t have learned more about the subject if she’d taken a graduate course in horticulture at Oxford. She’d planted the snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, and primroses that had bloomed on the Pym sisters’ graves.
Bree had also bought an inexpensive used car from Mr. Barlow, who’d taken a shine to her, and spent time exploring the countryside on her own. She seemed intent on settling in for the long haul, which was, in my opinion, a good thing. I couldn’t wait to see what she would do with her great-grandaunts’ gardens. I somehow doubted that she’d replace their old-fashioned flowers with a practical but dull swathe of lawn.
Will and Rob still found her exotic and intriguing, as did the villagers. She’d fulfilled my expectations and outraged Peggy Taxman’s sensibilities by wearing a slinky fuschia tank dress to the wedding, displaying in one fell swoop her tattoos, her feminine curves, and her shapely legs, which the Sciaparelli boys seemed to think was a very good thing. Bree derived immense pleasure from getting up Peggy’s nose and did so fearlessly and as often as possible.
She swaggered over to straighten Willis, Sr.’s pocket square and to call an ebullient hello to Auntie Ruth and Auntie Louise. After dusting birdseed from their headstone, she followed us to the reception, where she presented the bride and groom with a gift on behalf of her late benefactresses.
“It may be a little premature,” she said. “Then again, it may not.”
The cheeky meaning behind her mysterious words became clear when Nell opened the box and held up an exquisitely embroidered christening gown for all to see. Nell’s musical laughter filled the air while Kit, blushing furiously, hastened to assure the crowd of extremely attentive onlookers that the gift was, indeed, premature, but nonetheless cherished.
Willis, Sr., increased everyone’s joy tenfold by sharing the news he’d already shared with me. He received so many congratulatory hugs that his pearl-gray tie developed a wrinkle, but I forbade him to return to the cottage to exchange it for another. I knew from recent experience that, had he gone, we wouldn’t have seen him again for hours.
Kit and Nell left for their honeymoon at half past eight. No one knew where they were going, but I was certain that, wherever they went, they would find paradise. After the big sendoff, Willis, Sr., repaired to the cottage to spend the rest of the evening ironing his tie and reading quietly in front of the fire.
Bill and I tucked a drooping Will and Rob into bed at the manor house, danced until midnight, and sat up until the wee hours with Emma and Derek, sharing memories of love’s first blossoming and hopes for the newlyweds’ future.
I didn’t have a chance to speak with Aunt Dimity until late the next day.
Epilogue
Dimity?” I said, gazing in triumph at the blue journal. “I’ve sold Bill on a family trip to New Zealand!”
Aunt Dimity’s response was swift and jubilant. Bravo! Well done! How on earth did you manage it?
“You won’t believe it, Dimity.” I hunkered down in the tall leather armchair in the study and gave Reginald a meaningful glance. “I hit him with the hard sell, right? I told him that Cameron and Donna are dying to meet Will and Rob. I told him that New Zealand combines the tropical beauty of Hawaii with the cozy beauty of Ireland and the alpine beauty of Switzerland. I told him that the country is the same size as Colorado but that it has more coastline than the contiguous United States. I told him about the fantastic people, the untainted food, the superb wines, the pristine environment, and I threw in the bit about hiking with fantails. And do you know what finally sold him?”
I can’t imagine.
“Frodo’s jacuzzi,” I said.
You jest.
“Nope,” I said. “I had no idea that Bill was a rabid Tolkien fan until fireworks popped in his eyes when I mentioned Frodo’s bathtub. Can you believe it?”
Mysterious are the ways of men.
“You can say that again,” I agreed fervently. “My husband, the Ringer. Who knew? I’m just happy that something clicked with him. I can’t wait to go back.”