Trial by Fire

Chapter 17

The dinner on Thursday night at Dahlia’s house was relaxed and fun and boisterous. All four of her children were there, and Delphine’s husband Francois, the groom-to-be Paul, and Catherine, the mother of Charles’s baby, that Dahlia had just learned about. The table looked beautiful with silver and crystal gleaming. The food was delicious, prepared by a party chef she used at times to entertain to make it seem special. She wanted them all to remember how good it felt to be together. It was a happy time after being away from them for two months, which seemed like an eternity to her now. They all showed up nicely dressed, out of respect for their mother. Emma wore a black skirt and top and her Doc Martens and pink hair. They were individuals with talents and lives of their own now, and partners Dahlia didn’t always love, but that suited them. She had no right to pick or choose or condemn or criticize. They had a right to their own choices in life and she wanted to respect them. She couldn’t protect them all the time, no matter how much she loved them. They had to have their own victories and make their mistakes. She had never wanted to control them, but she didn’t want to let them go. She knew she had to now. The summer in California had taught her that. They had done fine without her, some better than others. Even Emma was trying her wings with her art, and having her first gallery show, a major accomplishment for her.

She toasted them all at the end of dinner and told them how proud she was of all of them, and they could tell she meant it.

And Alex finally spoke to her before dinner.

“It looks like you and Agnes pulled it off, Mom,” she said quietly, more subdued than usual.

“It sounds like everything is in place. It’s the first thing I checked when I got back. I want you to have a beautiful wedding, and I hope you know that. I’m sorry I couldn’t come back sooner. I came home as soon as I could.”

“I’m sorry I got so upset about it. I thought you were going to cancel my wedding.” It still didn’t justify the hurtful things she had said. But that was Alex. She’d do it again.

“No, just postpone it,” Dahlia said gently. “I want you to have the best life can give you.”

“Thank you, Maman,” Alex said, and hugged her. And for now, the war was over, until the next time when she didn’t get her way and took out nuclear weapons because things weren’t going as she wanted. Dahlia was still smarting from her words, and Alex looked happy as the focus of everyone’s attention. Dahlia hoped everything would go smoothly for her on Saturday. Their family dinner was a nice prelude and what she had missed most while she was in California. In a way, she had given up a man she loved for them, to be with them, and they would never even know it. It was a sacrifice Dahlia had made in silence, her gift to them.

—

The wedding was as beautiful as Alex had hoped and Dahlia had planned, with a great deal of help from Agnes to pull it off successfully. It was flawless. The church of Sainte-Clothilde was filled with flowers, with balls of lily of the valley at the end of each pew. And Alex carried a huge bouquet of them, to go with the dress that fit perfectly. Even her shoes were exquisite with lily of the valley on them. Dior had gone all out and made all the adjustments Alex wanted.

The guests were excited and happy for them, and people came impeccably dressed. The food and wines were wonderful, and the florist had done a masterful job at the chateau where they held the reception. People danced until four in the morning. The paparazzi were kept away, and Dahlia looked distinguished and elegant in a navy-blue lace haute couture gown, with sapphires that had been her mother’s on her neck and ears. Not a single detail was overlooked. Nothing went wrong. The weather was balmy and warm, and Alex came to find her mother and tell her that it was even better than she’d dreamed it would be. No one would have guessed the agony it had been planning it, or how unkind Alex had been to her in the process. It was a magical night, just as every bride’s wedding should be. Dahlia wished that Mark could have seen it and been there with her. Charles walked his sister down the aisle, and Delphine and Emma were her witnesses. Delphine was the maid of honor, and her two little girls were the flower girls, with Delphine guiding them down the aisle holding satin baskets of rose petals. They were what they always had been and Dahlia had worked so hard for, a family, with all its flaws and mistakes, and strengths which prevailed in the end. And Dahlia was grateful she had made it home in time for the wedding. She would have been heartbroken to miss it, and Alex would never have forgiven her.

There was nothing to forgive at her wedding. It was as close to perfect as anyone could get.

Dahlia had walked into the church alone. And she left the reception at the chateau quietly at two in the morning, having greeted all of the two hundred and fifty guests, and Charles had danced with her once, and thanked her again for being so reasonable about Catherine and the baby. Catherine looked very respectable in a simple black dress. The baby didn’t show yet.

Dahlia’s driver took her home and it was a good feeling knowing that the evening had been a success. Nothing could have been added or subtracted. Francisco was waiting for her, asleep on her bed, and he wagged his tail when he saw her, and cuddled up next to her when she got into bed.

The flowers at the wedding had been exceptionally beautiful, white orchids and lily of the valley and hydrangeas in elegant arrangements on every table. As she closed her eyes, she could see all of it, and knew that it would be an unforgettable memory for Alex too. It was exactly what Dahlia had wanted for her, and now it was Alex’s turn to make a good life for herself. Dahlia hoped they all would. And Alex and Paul were leaving on their honeymoon in Greece the next day, on the yacht they were borrowing.

Dahlia drifted off to sleep with the dog she had brought back from California. The wedding was a suitable conclusion to a happy time. It really had been perfect.

She dreamed of Mark that night and walking down the beach at Stinson with him. She wished that she were still there with him. She knew that there would never be another man like him in her life, or another love.