Raising her hand in the air, she waved at the audience as she walked to stand behind the microphone next to Kaden’s.
As she took her place, Kaden began to sing as Ginny stared out at the crowd watching her. She wasn’t having to stand on the sidelines and watch someone else do what she wanted. For the first time, she was right where she wanted to be.
Chapter Forty-Two
Ginny 23 / Gavin 36
“Are you going to hide in the kitchen during the whole reception?”
Ginny picked up a hand towel to dry her hands as Trudy came into the kitchen, glaring at her with her hands on her hips. “I was just finishing plating the rest of the appetizers.” Laying the towel down, Ginny fiddled with the tray, waiting for her sister to leave. When she didn’t, Ginny tried to hurry her along.
“You should go before someone comes in.”
“I don’t care.” Trudy moved away from the door to come from around the counter to take her shoulders, forcing her to face her. “What’s wrong?”
“No matter what happens now, it’s never going to be just me and you again, is it?”
Trudy’s face softened. “No. I love you, but I love Dalton, too.”
“I know.” Ginny wiped her tears away. “I know I’m being silly. Ignore me.” Reaching up, she pulled her sister’s hands down to take them in hers. “You look beautiful.”
Trudy’s face broke in a breathtaking smile. “You tell me that every time you see me.”
“Because it’s true. Dalton is a very lucky man.”
“I don’t think he would agree with you. I think he believes I’m trying to kill him with sex.” Trudy giggled.
“Are you?” She giggled back.
“No, I just like making him think so.” Laughing, Trudy reached out to hold her close. Growing serious, she pressed against her. “I wanted this house because it’s big enough for all of us. We’re still going to be a family; it just won’t be a family of two.”
Ginny started to nod but stopped. “You’re going to ruin your makeup.”
Trudy instantly pulled away to fluff her hair and smooth her dress, making sure she was still picture-perfect. “I’m not the only one who looks beautiful today.”
While Ginny knew that Trudy was exaggerating, she was pleased with the way she looked. She was just in a plain, navy sheath dress with a small jacket. She had managed to maneuver herself into several of the pictures of Trudy and she planned to get a few copies for herself.
“Where’s Dalton?”
“Around,” Trudy said absently.
“What are you up to?” Ginny asked her sister, not liking the look in her eye.
“He’s upstairs with Shade, getting our suitcases. Lily wanted the chance to sneak out to get his Valentine’s Day present ready.”
“How’s he getting home? He and Lily came together.”
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” Trudy said carelessly.
Both women turned nervously, then relaxed when Killyama came into the kitchen. “The band is looking for Ginny. They’re getting ready to start the music.”
“I’ll take these platters then—”
“Bitch, go. I’ll put them on the table.” Killyama took them from her.
“Thanks.” Ginny started laughing when Trudy started to follow her, only to have Killyama thrust one of the trays in her hand.
Seeing Trudy alone for those few minutes helped ease the sadness that had hung in the air all day. Weddings always made her sad. It was hard for her to celebrate them when she knew she would never have one.
Skirting around the crowd, Ginny managed to work her way out to the backyard. It was beautifully decorated. Small tables were set up around the pool with red tablecloths and vases filled with white roses on top. It was cool today, so she was comfortable with the small jacket she wore.
The members of the band gave her nods that they were ready. As she moved to stand behind the microphone, the familiar music began to play from the speakers.
“I’m searching for you …,” she sang out, scanning over the crowd, watching the back door for Trudy and Dalton to come out. She might not be able to give them a toast like a family member could, but she could sing for them. She had written one for them, and when they were both outside, the band would play it next.
“Calling for you …”
The song she had written for Trudy and Dalton was a celebration of their love. The song she was singing now, she had written about her own heartache for a soul mate, who she knew was no longer there, that for whatever reason, life had snatched him away from her, had never given them the opportunity to touch. She had written the song, hoping that she was wrong and that he really was out there, thinking the same thing, waiting for her, waiting for her song to lead the way to her.
“Hoping for you, praying for you …”