“It is lovely to see you, my dear,” he says to me, taking my elbow and leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” I answer. “It’s very nice to see you, too.”
“It is a happy surprise, old man,” Santiago says as they shake hands. “I hope you’ll come to the house for dinner one of these nights.”
“When I heard about the christening, I volunteered to represent The Society, and as far as dinner, I would be honored.” Jonathan runs the back of his finger over Elena’s cheek. “She is a beauty,” he says. “Like her mother.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“I had a little to do with it,” Santiago adds. “But I am glad she only seems to have inherited the color of my eyes.”
“Well, there is her temper,” I add.
Santiago gives me a look.
“Then you have your hands full,” Jonathan says. He holds the box out toward us and opens it.
I’d almost forgotten this part. The bracelet for all little girls born within IVI.
“Thank you,” Santiago says.
Jonathan nods, and he and the priest take their leave.
Santiago clasps the chain around Elena’s pudgy wrist.
I try to process what I feel about this, and in a way, it’s strange. I feel nothing. At least not right now. Maybe later I will. There’s one thing I’ve realized in the last year. The Society is a sort of extended family. And if you are on good terms with them, then they’re a powerful support system.
But if you’re not, if, like my brother, you turn against them, their wrath is just as powerful, their justice swift and final. But there is also compassion. Hazel and Michael were welcomed back. I don’t know what my father or she or even I had expected would happen if they found her. I always imagined them hunting for her. Hunting for anyone who’d left the fold. But it’s not like that. They will hunt you. Absolutely. If you’ve caused harm to members of The Society or The Society itself, they will hold you accountable. But walking away is not a punishable offense. At least it hasn’t been in the case of Hazel. My father’s fear had been in her running off, shunning a Sovereign Son. But that’s not how IVI saw it. I'm not sure how much Santiago had to do with that, but I am happy for the end result.
This doesn’t mean that I plan on enmeshing myself more than I would any other group or organization, but it makes me see things a little differently, and that’s a good thing because I know how important IVI is to Santiago. His ancestors are among the founding families, after all. It’s in his blood.
Someone clears their throat. We turn to the door to find Colette and Eva standing there.
“Are you guys coming?” Eva asks anxiously.
“The guests are getting restless,” Colette adds.
“I mean, really, if you want to hang out here,” Eva continues, rolling her eyes and walking toward us. “My niece is the main event so…” She trails off, shrugging a shoulder.
“We’re coming,” Santiago says.
“Actually,” I contradict, handing Elena over to her favorite aunt. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
Eva’s gaze shifts from Santiago to me and back to him. “Just remember it’s a church,” she tells him and turns to walk away.
“How old is she again?” Santiago asks as the door closes behind them, and we’re alone. He turns to me, eyebrows raised. “We should go in. The sooner we do, the sooner we can go home.”
“You’re such a homebody.”
“And you’re a socialite?”
“You have a point.” I take his hand and lead him to a pew. We sit down beside each other and he studies me, his expression more serious.
“Ivy?”
I see the furrow between his eyes deepen and reach out to smooth it out. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to have a minute alone with you. We’re so rarely alone now.”
He smiles but waits. He knows me too well now.
“I wanted to wait until I was sure,” I start, glancing up at the altar as my eyes warm with tears. Happy ones. When I turn back to him, his are nearly the same as he waits expectantly.
I touch his collar to straighten it.
He takes my hands and dips his head to draw my attention back to his face. “Ivy?”
“We shouldn’t pack the christening gown away just yet.”
He cocks his head, draws a deep breath in as understanding begins to dawn. “Are you—?”
“We’re having another baby.”
He hesitates.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, just to be clear. He lets out a laugh and hugs me so tight, it hurts. But to hear him laugh and to feel him hold me like this, and to feel his happiness, it makes that same feeling of joy almost burst inside me, and tears are streaming down my face by the time he draws back. He’s using his thumbs to wipe them away as he kisses me, telling me how happy he is, how proud he is of me. And when my tears stop, we rest our foreheads against one another’s, and I touch his cheek.