Author’s note: If you need a refresher on what’s happening in this universe, a short description of each previous story may be found on the Reminder Page.

October, 1997

“I said yes!” Di declared the instant that Honey picked up the call. “Thorn asked me to marry him and I said yes!”

“What? No, I mean when?”

“Just now. I’ve got to go – I need to put Immy to bed – but I just had to tell someone and I thought of you right away. There’s no need to tell Trixie because she’s already so sure this was going to happen that it won’t be a surprise to her.”

“In that case, I won’t tell her you told me first.” She sighed. “I’m so happy for you, Di. You deserve this.”

“Do I?” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Right now, I don’t care if I do, or I don’t. I just can hardly believe that it’s happening.”

From the next room, Imogen let out a cry.

“Oh! I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Honey. Thanks for everything.”

May, 1998

“Nothing is going to way I want it to!” Di complained, slumping onto the sofa in her living area. “Or, at least, it seems that way.”

Honey had dropped by for a chat, while Imogen spent the morning with her grandmother. Mrs. Lynch loved those days – but was more than happy to hand the energetic not-quite-three-year-old back again after a few hours.

“You were working on choosing caterers, weren’t you?” Honey wondered. “Did the ones you want pull out?”

Her friend shook her head. “No, that sort of thing is okay. The venue, the date, the celebrant, the cake … all of that is under control.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“I just can’t decide what to wear,” Di moaned. “I mean, I’d love a traditional dress, but it’s not going to be a super-elaborate wedding and, well, is it right to wear white when I’ve already had a child? And not even with the man I’m marrying?”

Honey put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “I don’t think that’s a hard and fast rule any more. I think you could wear whatever you liked.”

Di picked up a magazine and flipped through it. “Not like that, or that, or that. I don’t know. I can’t seem to find anything that I like. Everything seems just a bit too … over the top. Either that, or not special enough. I’ve been to what feels like every bridal store in New York – even if I know it’s really not – and my mother brings me more magazines twice a week – and still nothing. I could have something custom-made, of course, but how can I when I don’t even know what I want?”

“How about a vintage dress?” Honey suggested. Her eyes widened. “Like the one that Juliana wore to her wedding …”

“… and which came from Mrs. Vanderpoel’s,” Di finished. “Honey, you’re a genius. Let’s call her and see if she’ll let me try some on.”

They made the call at once and put the question.

“Of course you can, child,” was the immediate reply. “When would you like to look? Now?”

“If I could,” Di answered. “Could Honey and I come over, please?”

The old lady was pleased to agree and so they drove over to her home.

“Now, I think I’ll stay down here, if you don’t mind,” Mrs. Vanderpoel explained. “The attic is no place for me, at my age.”

She gave a few instructions on where they were to look and then the two young women were on their own. The first dress that they found was too small. After a certain amount of consideration, they decided that it was probably the very dress that Juliana had worn. Honey moved it aside and the search continued.

The second dress was too ornate; the third was not quite the right shape. Di held it up to herself and shook her head with a disappointed sigh. The fourth dress looked to be twenty or thirty years old and was deeply unfashionable.

“What about this one?” Honey asked, after they had put those aside. She held up a dress that looked far more suited to both Diana’s tastes and her generous curves. “Do you want to try it on?”

Di reached out and touched it. The soft fabric draped beautifully and had just the right amount of lace trim to add interest. When she held it up to herself, it seemed to be about the right size. The hem reached her ankles.

“Yes, I think I will.”

She carried the dress downstairs to a spare bedroom and tried it on. Honey stepped out from behind her, after fastening the back, and cast a critical eye over the dress.

“What do you think?” Di asked. “I think this might be the one.”

Honey nodded. “You look beautiful, Di! It’s a lovely dress.”

Their hostess also joined them and smiled her approval. “I’ve always liked that one. It belonged to my oldest niece.”

“Did she have a happy marriage?” Di wondered, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, yes. She is still married and I believe they are very happy together.”

“May I borrow it?”

“Gladly,” the old lady answered. “It suits you very well. I’m sure you’ll look lovely in it.”

“Thank you,” Di answered, a smile spreading across her face. “Thank you so much.”

Late July, 1998

When Diana answered her doorbell to find her two best female friends awaiting her, she sensed an ambush. The carefully innocent looks on their faces spoke volumes. Not wanting to wait until they chose to reveal their intentions, she decided to take the initiative and ask at once.

“What are you two up to?”

Trixie and Honey shared a glance.

“We just thought we’d come and chat with you. You know, talk about how the wedding plans are going. That sort of thing. May we come in?”

Di stepped back and let them enter. “You know you’re welcome any time. But the plans are all made. You know that, Honey. We went through them all yesterday and you agreed that I’m ready.”

Trixie shook her head. “There’s still one thing to arrange – the bachelorette party – but don’t worry; we’re going to do that for you.”

“I don’t need anything like that!” Di shook her head. “I don’t want to get drunk, or watch male strippers, or wake up somewhere that I shouldn’t be!”

“We have to have some sort of party for you,” Honey insisted. “Even if it’s not the kind of party you’re thinking of, we need to do something.”

“It’ll be fun,” Trixie added. “We hardly ever spend much time together now.”

Di still looked mutinous. “I have a child to look after. How much fun can we have when I need to have her into bed before it’s even dark?”

Trixie stopped to think for a moment. “How about if we have the party at someone’s house? Immy can go to sleep somewhere and you’ll still be close by, but we can have a good time.”

“Provided we don’t invite anyone really loud,” Honey put in, glancing at Trixie, who scrunched up her nose. “It’ll be quiet, but still fun.”

Di pursed her lips, hesitating, then nodded. “Okay, but you can’t make it too big. Just a small party. And it can’t go too late, either, because Immy doesn’t like being moved when she’s been asleep for a few hours.”

“We’ll arrange it so there’s a bed for each of you for the night,” Honey promised. “No matter how late it goes, you won’t have to move her. How will that be?”

Their friend pursed her lips for a moment, obviously pondering her options. Finally, she smiled and nodded reluctant agreement. “I guess that will be okay.”

“Maybe we could have it at my place,” Trixie suggested, jumping straight into the planning. “I’m sure Jim wouldn’t mind a night away from home. And, maybe, Honey could stay over, too. It would be like a sleepover.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Di shook her head. “I did not agree to something like that! I can’t stay up all night giggling and expect to be awake enough in the morning to care for Immy. It just isn’t happening.”

Trixie sighed theatrically and rolled her eyes. “Look at you: all staid and prim and stuff, and you’re not even married, yet.”

“You are, and it hasn’t affected you that way,” Honey pointed out. “So, when is Trixie Frayne going to become staid?”

Trixie laughed. “Maybe when I’m ninety.”

“You will not! You’ll be causing havoc in the nursing home, prodding people with your walking stick.”

“Probably,” she answered, grinning. She put on an elderly voice. “Get out of my way, old man! I’m ninety-six years old and I don’t have time to wait around!”

August, 1998

A few days before the wedding …

“Come in!” Trixie urged, throwing the door open wide.

Di brought Imogen inside and set her on the floor. Jim and Trixie’s place was familiar enough that she ran into the living room at once, in search of the basket of toys kept there especially for her.

“Let me take your bag upstairs. I’ve got a guest room all ready for the two of you, in case Immy wakes up in the night.” Trixie took the bag and started for the stairs. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course.” Di smiled and glanced around for her daughter, who had disappeared somewhere. “Thanks, Trixie.”

“No problem. Go on into the kitchen, if you want.”

Di did as suggested and took a seat at the table. Honey was busy there, preparing the evening’s snacks while chatting with Imogen, who was snitching bites to eat and hugging a doll. The little girl had found her way there while Di and Trixie were talking.

“We’re not in the way, are we?” Di wondered. “And is there something we should be doing to help?”

Honey shook her head. “No, not at all. You’re the guest of honour and I’ve got everything under control. In fact, I’m almost finished.”

They chatted together amiably as Honey arranged vegetables and dip, pulled hot savouries from the oven, piled chunks of gooey brownie on a plate and checked over everything else. Just as she was finishing, the doorbell rang, announcing the first of the guests. As Trixie went to let them in, Honey and Di carried the platters into the living room with Imogen following along behind.

Over the next ten minutes, the room filled with family and friends. Di took a sip from the Tequila Sunrise that Trixie had pressed on her and looked around the room. Some of the older generation, notably Honey and Trixie’s mothers, were already getting rather giggly. Her own mother had Imogen on her lap and was trying to make sure that the little girl’s drink, an innocent version of the adult ones and served in a plastic wineglass, did not spill everywhere.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” Trixie asked, dropping down next to her. She took a slurp from her own glass. “We just need the stripper to arrive–”

“You didn’t!” Di interrupted.

“Well, no, I didn’t,” Trixie answered, unrepentant. “But we did think about it. We thought you should know what you’re missing out on by marrying an older man.”

“I do know what I’m missing out on,” she snapped. “I’m missing out on the cheating and the selfishness and the insincerity.”

Trixie’s expression showed her contrition, but she couldn’t seem to help arguing. “Well, you don’t guarantee missing those things by choosing someone older.”

“The odds are better!” Di replied.

Trixie laughed and agreed. “If you’re not choosing a Bob-White, that’s probably the best idea. And I know that Thorn is going to treat you right.”

Di nodded. “I know that, too. That’s why I agreed to marry him.”

“And not because you think he’s hot or something.”

For a moment, Di wondered which way her friend meant that. In the end, she decided that the intent did not matter. She answered the implied question honestly.

“Our relationship didn’t start out with a bang, the way some other people’s do. It started slow and tentative and just grew a little at a time.” She glanced over at her daughter, who had a celery stick in one hand and a carrot stick in the other and showed no sign of eating either. “I don’t want Immy growing up thinking that she has to see fireworks for it to really be love. I’d rather she have a love like this one: one that gets better every day.”

Trixie’s expression had turned thoughtful. “That’s a good way of looking at it.”

A small amount of tension – that she had not even noticed – dissipated. “And when you think about it, your relationship with Jim is a bit like that, too. It started slow and built.”

Her friend snorted. “It started with him aiming a gun at me.”

Di felt her lips twitch. “Well, that’s almost the same, really.”

For a moment, the two kept their faces straight, then they laughed together, long and loud.

Diana’s wedding day …

When the door to Diana’s suite at the Lynch Estate opened to admit her two best friends, Diana herself was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. She had spent the night before right here, while Imogen slept in the old nursery. Right now, the little girl was being entertained by Di’s little sisters, who would help her get ready when the time came.

“Oh! You’re here. Is it time?”

Honey smiled. “Nearly. I dragged Trixie over here a little early, just to be sure. Our mothers are crying together downstairs. They told me to tell you that they’ll be up when it’s almost time to leave.”

“I think they were about to hit the liquor cabinet,” Trixie confided, with a slightly queasy look. “I didn’t know it was such a terrible thing to be the mother of the bride.”

“Maybe if you had a daughter, you’d understand better,” Di suggested, grinning.

Trixie screwed up her nose. “You’ll have to tell me about it. I’m planning, if I ever have kids, on only having boys.”

Her two friends burst into laughter.

“I don’t think you get to make that choice,” Honey pointed out.

“Well, whether I do or I don’t get a daughter, I don’t cry at weddings, so I doubt I’ll ever understand anyway.”

Diana looked from Honey’s amused face to Trixie’s defiant one and felt a surge of warmth. Her two best friends in all the world, who had stood by her through all of the mistakes and outright disasters of her past, were now ready to help her through this happier time.

“I’m so glad the two of you are here with me,” she told them, squeezing their hands. “I’d started thinking that I’d never find someone who would want me, not after … well, you know. And then, this!”

Honey smiled, in spite of the statement having come out of the blue. “Instant family.”

“And those kids adore you and Immy,” Trixie added. “They’re so glad that you’re going to live with them.”

Di nodded. “It’s not the fairytale ending that I dreamed of when I was little, but it’s perfect for me now.”

“Well, let’s get you looking perfect for the part,” Honey prompted, picking up a hairbrush. “We can’t keep the groom waiting.”

The three worked together for some time, laughing and talking as they did so. After Di had put on the dress and was admiring it in the mirror, a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Can we come in?” a female voice enquired.

Honey opened it and peeped out. “Yes, of course.”

In slipped all three of their mothers.

“My darling!” Diana’s mother cried, tearing up. “You look lovely.”

“All three of you look lovely,” Honey’s mother added, smiling at her daughter and daughter-in-law.

“But we have no chance of outshining the bride,” Trixie added, gesturing to Honey. “She looks just like she stepped out of one of Thorn’s pictures.”

“Trixie!” Di chided, but with a laugh. “I thought we weren’t going to mention that incident again.”

Her friend shrugged. “It seems to have all turned out well.”

Di smiled and nodded, then turned to her mother. “I think I’m ready to go and become Mrs. Huntley.”

“Well, if you’re all ready, I’ll get your father.” Mrs. Lynch smiled. “We’re so happy for you sweetheart. It’s a beautiful day and we hope you’re going to all be very happy together.”

They embraced, then Di stepped back.

“Let’s go get you married, before one of you decides it’s too soon,” Trixie urged.

“Trixie!” Di repeated, this time with some exasperation.

“Well, it might happen.”

“It’s not going to happen.” Di turned again to her mother. “Go and get Dad. I need to go and see my soon-to-be-husband. My own version of happily-ever-after is waiting.”

The End