“We look beautiful!” Kelly piped out, admiring herself in the mirror of the little dressing room at the back of the church.

Ivy laughed and her joy brought a pretty apricot flush to her cheeks. “We do, don’t we?”

There were still a few tinsel halos and shepherds’ robes lying about from the Christmas program that had been held earlier and Shay gathered them up just for something to do to pass the time. It wasn’t her wedding, but she was almost as excited and nervous as if it had been.

Ivy’s mother, an attractive if somewhat icy woman, came in, followed closely by Mitch. It was obvious that Elizabeth was trying to ignore her stepson, but Shay couldn’t. He looked so handsome in his dark tuxedo that she almost gasped.

He gave Shay a wink over Elizabeth’s rigidly coiffed champagne-blond head and then turned his attention to Ivy. Elizabeth winced at his wolf-whistle, but Ivy glowed.

“We look beautiful, don’t we, Daddy?”

Mitch crouched to look into Kelly’s face. “Yes, indeed, you do.”

“You shouldn’t have just walked in here that way,” Elizabeth fretted, speaking to Mitch but not looking at him. “They might have been dressing.”

Mitch wagged a finger in her face. “Peace on earth, Elizabeth. Good will toward men.”

To the surprise of everyone, Elizabeth permitted herself a faltering smile. “You are just like your father,” she said. Shay hoped that Mitch had noticed the love in Elizabeth’s face when she mentioned his father.

“Merry Christmas, Elizabeth,” he said gently, and then he kissed Ivy’s cheek and left the room.

There were tears glistening in Ivy’s eyes as she looked at her mother. “Thank you, Mama,” she said quietly.

“Pish-posh, all I did was speak to the man,” Elizabeth replied, and then she was fussing with Ivy’s skirts and straightening her veil.

Minutes later, Kelly led the way up the aisle of the candlelit church. Shay followed, smiling when she spotted Marvin and Jeannie. As she passed Alice, the old dickens winked at her.

There was a hush in the crowded sanctuary as Ivy appeared in the rear doorway, her face hidden by a veil that caught sparkles of candlelight. Mitch stood at her side, and he looked as comfortable in a tux as he did in the blue jeans and T-shirts he usually wore.

The organ struck the first chord of the wedding march and there was a rustling sound as the guests rose. Everyone else was looking at Ivy, of course, but Shay’s eyes would not leave the man who would give away the bride.

For Shay, the ceremony passed in a shimmering haze. The holy words were spoken and Shay heard them in snatches, adding her own silent commentary. “For better or worse.” Let it be better. “For richer or poorer.” No problem there. These two already have IRAs. “In sickness and in health.” Please, they’re both so beautiful. “Till death do you part.” They’ll grow old together—I want your word on that, God. “I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.” My feet hurt. Is this thing almost over?