Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
It could be anybody.
Roses and honey.
That’s what her grandmother smelled like.
A different version of home.
Catrina’s hand came up to rest against Cece’s smiling cheek. She patted the spot affectionately, her gaze softer than usual. “I’m proud of you, hmm?”
“I know, Grandmama.”
She never forgot to tell her.
Once, she asked her grandmother why she did that—Catrina’s answer hadn’t been at all what she expected. Apparently, her nan wished she had told her own daughter more often ... or rather, wished she had recognized earlier what Catherine held the most pride in so that she could do the same.
“And,” Catrina said, pulling a black velvet case from her bag to set on the table beside the couch, “because I promised ... that is the jewelry I wore on my wedding day. Taken from the vault just for you—your grandfather had a man follow me there and back and he’s still standing outside right now because according to your grandfather, it’s the point of the matter ... as if I couldn’t make it here without somehow losing or damaging it. But, a promise is a promise, right?”
Cece nodded with a laugh. “Right.”
“Keep it safe. They’re yours now.”
“Thank you.”
Catrina winked.
Just as fast, her grandmother brought her in for another tight hug. Catrina’s lips found her forehead with a soft kiss. “I will be back later – just to see you before we all have to get in our chairs later.”
“You better.”
She took another quick hug from her grandmother before Catrina said her goodbyes. Once the door clicked close, Catherine finally pushed up from the chair near the door where she had found a place to sit while her mother had been in the room.
Her smile matched her mother’s.
Catherine sighed as her gaze found the wedding dress spread out across the large couch. “He’s going to love it—and your father, too.”
“I hope so.”
“They will.”
Once her mother had crossed the room and stood in front of her, Cece sniffed to try and hide the emotions that suddenly came to lodge in her throat. Unlike her grandmother, Catherine made sure that she was going to be with her daughter the entire day because that’s what Cece asked for. Something about that just felt right. Spending the day with her mother before she officially became a married woman was ... appropriate.
“Do you remember when you thought he didn’t even notice you?” Catherine asked. “When you were too young ... and you thought he couldn’t even see you when he looked your way? Things were a lot more innocent then, I imagine.”
“Something like that.”
“Did you figure it out?”
“Figure out what, Ma?”
“The only person he ever saw was you, Cece.”
Later, when the wedding bells would ring, and she found herself standing at the end of the aisle with Juan across from her ... she’d remember what her mother said. Amongst many other things about her wedding day that stayed forefront in her memories, that one stood out the most.
Because Catherine had been right.
She usually was.
Godfather
Zeke POV
“So, what does this even mean?”
The priest, fully dressed in his robes, and ready to go over one last time how this ceremony was going to happen, turned to give Zeke a look. “Pardon?”
“This godfather thing. What does it even mean?”
The man’s gaze dropped to the bundle of white in Zeke’s arm. Little Cece Donati. He decided to give her mother and father a break after they had their regular mass, and the baby girl cried nearly the whole time. Maybe because she knew in about an hour, she was going to get her forehead splashed with holy water, and wasn’t in the mood.
She looked a lot like her ma, sure.
But acted more like her father.
Even as a newborn.
“Bit late to be asking the purpose of a godparent, isn’t it?” the priest asked.
His arms tightened around the baby. Cece was really the only newborn he could remember holding in ... well, ever. He adored her, though. She came from his best friend, and from day one, all he wanted to do was help protect the baby girl.
“I just never really thought about it,” Zeke replied. “What it means, I guess.”
The priest smiled a bit, his hand coming up to rest along the white cap Cece wore for her Christening that matched her baby gown. “It is a great responsibility, Zeke. See, many have turned godparents into something else—a coveted title for their favorite people. And in doing that, they forgot the purpose of a godparent.”
“Which is what?”
Because the priest wasn’t wrong.
Zeke could admit that.
In their culture, picking godparents for a child was as expected as going to church every Sunday. People waited with baited breath to find out who the parents would pick amongst their group of family and friends to do the job. And then once it was said and done, the baby had its Christening, and the deal was finished ... the rest was forgotten.