Authors: Clara Ward
“Having fun?” she asked him.
“Isn’t everyone?”
“I’m certainly happy.”
“You should be. You’re the bride. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Then the household’s string quartet began to play, and Sarah and Reggie were called upon to dance. For the second song Sarah danced with James. He overcame his usual awkwardness and proved a competent partner. Sarah felt tears in her eyes as she realized once again, she had a father.
After that she danced with Mr. Malone, Samuel Johnson, Phil, Oliver, and Dr. Knockham. When she thought it might be time to rest, Aliana and Emma requested music for a step dance. Worrying for a moment about her layered and gauzy wedding dress, Sarah realized that when Aliana chose costumes, she was used to taking dance steps into account. But as they were dancing Sarah caught sight of a ship sailing into the bay. Its main sail was square and golden; its outline that of a Chinese junk. As the Irish tune ended, she went to the cliff to look down. Others came too, and they watched the curious boat tie up at the dock.
Oliver and two other teeks had gone down to meet the strange craft. Just before they reached it a figure in a satiny white shirt and bow tie walked to the bow, raised an arm in a dramatic wave toward Sarah and called out, “I’ve come to dance at your wedding.”
Sarah could barely piece together the words over the sound of surf, but something in the luxuriant stretch of body and arm made her quite sure the mariner was Tom. She glanced at Reggie, who happened to be standing near the Johnsons and asked, “Did you know Tom was coming?”
They all shook their heads. She remembered her first impression of him as a Tommy Goth snake in Belize. She felt the reptilian threat, though the snake usually shot from tree branches above its victim, and Tom was currently far below her on the bay.
“You think it’s all right?” she asked.
“It’s your call,” Reggie answered.
Shaking her head, Sarah waved for them to come up.
By the time the new arrivals reached the wedding, music had resumed and people were trying not to stare. Sarah and Reggie went to greet Tom and the two strangers who accompanied him.
“You do show up in the most surprising places,” Reggie said as they shook hands.
“My life story would not be complete if I missed your special day.” Tom paused to give Sarah a quite familiar hug and kiss. “Sarah and Reggie, let me introduce Jan and Eric, my biographers.”
Jan and Eric shifted a little uncomfortably at the introduction but shook hands and offered congratulations.
“So Tom, I’m sure you have some story to share,” Sarah prompted.
“Yes, but you must dance with me to find out.” With that he proffered his arm and Sarah went with him toward the music.
The dancing had calmed to a waltz, and Tom leaned in with suave attentiveness to nearly whisper in Sarah’s ear. “Remember those nice people from EU News? The ones who let Reggie borrow their plane and pilots to rescue you?”
“PAD traded them exclusive access to the island for that.” Sarah smiled as Reggie danced by with Emma.
Tom waited until they were out of earshot to say, “It’s true. But they’re news people. They’ve pieced together most of that rescue story, several of the plot lines that connect to PAD and Broadcast Day, as well as our little adventures in Belize and Cambodia.”
“Pieced together or were told?”
“The point I’m making is,” Tom paused but kept them moving and gave her waist a little squeeze, “They plan to make a TV miniseries of your life. They’re willing to pay you well for your help.”
“Do you imagine I’d want a movie made about my life? I’ve spent most of it trying to go unnoticed.”
“Times change, Sarah. Besides, they’re making the show either way. I’ve already sold them rights to my story, and much of it happens to coincide.”
“You brought reporters to my wedding!”
Tom smiled and braced her firmly through the next few steps of the dance. It was uncomfortable and unfair. Still Sarah felt nothing but amusement, despite all their dubious history.
“They didn’t bring cameras, and the whole thing will be fictionalized to protect people’s privacy. The EU is quite old-fashioned that way.”
“Like no one could figure it out.”
“You’re changing names anyway, aren’t you?”
“You always know too much.”
“Knowledge and charm get me quite far.”
The dance was ending, “I’ll need to talk to Reggie.”
“Naturally.” Tom bowed and kissed her hand.
As Sarah approached Reggie, Tom caught up Emma and danced her away.
“He had a business proposition. I think Phil should hear it too,” Sarah said to Reggie, and they went hand in hand to waylay Phil.
Sarah was surprised at how easily she could repeat each word of Tom’s proposal. He had a knack for presentation. She was also surprised by Phil’s reaction.
“It’s a perfect opportunity!”
“For what?” asked Sarah.
“We’ll write up the contract to state the work is fictionalized but also retain some executive control. That way we might keep out the bits we least want shown and influence the slant given to the rest.”
“EU News is pretty reputable, doesn’t spin as predictably as the American press,” Reggie said.
“And we are the heroes of this story. I believe that. Don’t you? We just don’t want the first version told to be biased by our political enemies,” Phil flung out his hands as he spoke, then steadied the hors d’oeuvres on his plate.
Sarah folded before his enthusiasm, but couldn’t find any in herself. “I don’t want political enemies. I just want to disappear.”
“I’ll do my best, Sarah. Let me handle the negotiations. Your story up to this point is going to come out eventually. Tom has certain rights to the parts that involve him. But if you and Reggie really want to start over anonymously, I can work toward that in the contract.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you to handle it,” Sarah said, “But remember we’ll be on our honeymoon.
“You’re only checking messages once a day,” Phil nodded with a paternal “I’ve got the message” sarcasm mostly aimed at Reggie.
Reggie crowed back like a cocky adolescent, “And I doubt we’ll have time to proofread a script,” as they were summoned across the yard to cut the cake.
By the time the sun grew orange on the horizon, Sarah was tired of the word “radiant” and the need to make small talk. She’d finally managed her way through the dinner buffet and sat down at a table to eat julienne vegetables and pink meatballs. Looking up she saw James furling and unfurling his fingers as he spoke with Reggie’s father. They were headed in her direction.
“The genetics for spotters seems quite simple, but that one gene has to confer some reproductive advantage—“
“Are you saying spotters exist just to have kids with movers or mind readers or what not?”
“It may have been a useful trait in its own right thousands of years ago.”
“What about now?” her father-in-law said. “I don’t need to spot a genetic sequence, but if a person could spot other traits, like good will and honesty, choose better business partners, avoid—Hello, Sarah. Sitting all alone?”
“Not anymore,” Sarah said as the two men joined her. “Please tell me you’re not discussing grandchildren?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. We could be grandparents, meeting each other during visits sometime,” Mr. Malone slapped a hand on James’s back.
James’s mouth widened in dismay and his fingers splayed out on his knee.
“Not too soon,” Sarah said.
James regained some composure, “We were mostly discussing Reggie’s abilities, and I think his father may be a spotter too.”
“I’m too old to be pressured into changing,” the senior Malone smiled.
“There’s so much we need to study, variations we may have overlooked,” James said.
Sarah’s mind turned over, finally escaping the buzz of wedding duties. “That reminds me, I need to talk to Doug. If you’ll excuse me?”
James nodded absently and her father-in-law raised only one eyebrow before saying, “Certainly.”
She soon found the Druid, standing alone to the side of the festivities.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Doug steepled his fingers and gave a long nod, standing in shadowed profile to the setting sun. Without looking toward her he said, “You make a beautiful bride, Sarah.”
“Why am I wearing green?”
“Some answers aren’t simply told.”
“Something to do with O’Reeley?”
“You know enough to ask. Perhaps you’ll be a Druid someday.”
“Before or after I study genetics?”
“I’ll wait to see.” Doug smiled and walked away.
Sarah was still replaying the brief exchange in her head when Reggie found her and slipped an arm around her waist.
“Tired?” he asked.
“I could be done.”
“We can leave whenever you want. Our first honeymoon cottage awaits.”
“One last try,” she said, taking Reggie’s hand and leading him across the yard.
“Dr. Knockham,” she said.
“Please, call me Leonard.”
“Is there something I should know about the color green?”
Leonard smiled, holding a drink in one hand. Like the Druid, he’d been standing well off to one side of the action; so there was no one around to hear. “Like what?”
“Like why you choose it for your clothing and your home? Why Doug said I should be married in it?”
“Oh, did he? Curiouser and curiouser.”
The scientist stood quietly, the image of tight-lipped British affability.
Then Reggie said, “Something to do with leprechauns?”
Knockham laughed from the bottom of his chest, then paused with a lopsided smile, “I guess you never know where legends come from.”
“From people who leave someone money but aren’t really dead?” Sarah pressed.
Knockham looked directly at her, eyes wide beneath lowered brows, “But Chris Martin couldn’t—So your other grandfather . . . This may be more than you should tell people.”
“He’s not my grandfather, and you spoke in favor of free information,” Sarah said, still wanting clear answers, but realizing what he’d implied, and flashing briefly on rumors about her mother’s parentage.
Leonard smiled easily, “Here, I’ll tell you this much for free, or in exchange for the amusing ideas you’ve started in my brain. Green is an affectation, not like the Druid’s white, more like a wink and a nod.”
“For the planners?”
“No,” he shook his head, “And that’s all I’ll say. These are the sort of questions that may answer themselves in time. For now, enjoy your wedding.” With the aforementioned wink and a nod, he sauntered off.
At first Sarah was annoyed, but gradually a smile crept up to her cheeks. She wondered what the odds were that she’d rescued someone like O’Reeley by chance. Could he be her grandfather, possibly driving out after finally hearing of her mother’s death? Did he choose cars without GPS by chance, and did he choose his name to sound like, “Oh, really?”
She laughed as she stood beside Reggie, on the cliff side of the clearing, and gazed down at the boat Tom had brought, now fiery in the lowering sun. “How’d you like to sail away into the sunset?” she asked Reggie.
“Haven’t we had enough adventures with transportation?”
“I’m sure we could handle that boat. Just to the edge of the bay. We’ll catch a cab from the big hotel out there. And Tom’s lackeys won’t mind, it’ll look even better in their TV show.”
“How could I refuse you anything? Are we sneaking down?”
Sarah nodded.
“I’ll get the bags and meet you there.”