the past.
Well, he wouldn’t break this one. He would not.
Chapter Twenty-three
A few hours later, Evie finally put the conversation behind her as she escorted the Mahoney, Kilcannon, and Santorini women into the “turret room” to enjoy the explosion of silk and satin in every color of the rainbow. Dozens of dresses hung from the shutters and the doors of a massive antique armoire, and more were spread out over the bed.
Chloe and Andi squealed with excitement, while Cassie and her mother, Katie, linked arms and gushed over two gowns Evie thought they might like.
“I don’t know what’s cooler,” Pru exclaimed, twirling in the circular bedroom. “This room or these clothes!”
“The room is cool,” Jessie agreed, lifting a deep green empire dress that set off her strawberry-blond hair. “But this dress is a dream. Do you think it’ll fit?”
Gramma Finnie tucked at the material. “I can make it fit, lass, if Evie doesn’t mind a few stitches in the dresses.”
“As long as they hold their integrity,” she said. “I wouldn’t want anything to be cut.”
“You wouldn’t have to cut this to fit me.” Yiayia held a bright blue satin tea dress. “If I squeeze into it, I’ll claim it as mine.”
“Oh, Yiayia.” Evie put a hand on her shoulder. “That belonged to my Grandmama Penelope. You would look striking in it.”
“Look at this one!” Ella exclaimed, sliding a black-and-white ball gown from the 1950s from a hanger. “Just call me Doris Day!”
“Oh, honey, you’ll be a princess in that dress!” Colleen fluttered the material, fussing over her daughter.
“Did you find anything you like, Colleen?” Evie asked. “I was thinking of you for that elegant rose-colored 1920s number. It would really look beautiful with your hair.”
Her eyes lit as she studied the dress. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything that…exotic.”
“Then it’s time.”
Colleen slid her arm around Evie’s waist. “What about you, dear? Have you picked a dress?”
“I have.” Several of the women in the room stopped their examinations of the dresses to listen to her. “My great-grandmother Evangeline’s engagement dress.”
“An engagement dress?” Yiayia and Gramma Finnie said the words in such perfect high-pitched unison that everyone burst into laughter.
“Well, that’s…promising,” Yiayia said.
“No promises.” Evie tapped the woman’s shoulder playfully.
“Oh, the Dogmothers want promises,” Pru said, sidling up to Evie. “We basically live for them.” At Evie’s look, she shrugged. “Yes, we. They made me a Dogdaughter for my sixteenth birthday.”
“What we want are happy endings,” Gramma Finnie said, getting a wide-eyed look from Evie and several others in the room. “What? Agnes has convinced me that subtlety is for younger people. We don’t have all the time in the world to ring those wedding bells.”
Evie bit back a laugh and looked from woman to woman. “No one’s going to give me an assist here?”
“Of course they won’t,” Ella said, sliding her fingers into her tousled short hair. “Because they’ve all been wooed to the dark side, and I’m the only one of this lot who hasn’t been helped down the aisle by a well-meaning family member.” She leaned in to wrinkle her cute nose. “But in this case, I’m going with the majority. I’ve never seen my big brother so happy. Well, yes, I have. And so have you.”
Yiayia clapped. “Then bring on the engagement…dress.”
Gramma Finnie’s face crinkled into a smile. “You’re a good sport, lass. We usually don’t have to try this hard.”
“You don’t have to try at all,” she said softly.
“So everything is right where it should be?” Gramma Finnie asked. “There’s hope?”
Evie sighed. “There’s always hope.” Once Declan let go of the past for good and kept his walls down.
“Do you know what my mother says?” Colleen asked, pointing to Gramma Finnie.
“I think I do,” Evie said. “I think I’ve heard this one…”
“With hope, anything is possible.” The words were spoken in unison by every woman in the room, except Gramma Finnie, who beamed like a conductor who’d gotten her orchestra to play the perfect note in unison.
“’Tis true, lassies” she said on a sigh, her gaze dropping to Evie’s stomach. “Anything is possible.”
Evie bit her lip and smiled at her and Colleen, feeling her eyes fill with the emotion of the moment and the aftermath of her argument with Declan this morning. Was anything possible? Could she trust Declan not to spiral into that darkness, where she’d lose him again? Would he ever be able to let go of that pain once and for all?
“What is it?” Colleen asked, taking her hand.
The gesture was so genuine and