She nodded once in satisfaction, then held a framed black-and-white photo chest high. The picture’s subject was a middle-aged woman. Her twinkling eyes belied her prim expression.
“This is my godmother, Mrs. Cora Mary Covington.” Ms. Helen glanced again at the photo before continuing. “Covington was the family name of her fifth husband. She was my mother’s best friend from childhood. Aunt Cora always used to tell me, ‘Helen, be who God intended you to be and you will set the world on fire.’ I thought she’d made up that saying. I was so impressed. It wasn’t until I was in college that I realized she was quoting Saint Catherine of Siena.”
Ms. Helen turned the picture to study it. “It doesn’t matter, Aunt Cora. You still impressed me. And you inspired me to be the very best I could be.” She placed the photograph lovingly on the altar before returning to stand in front of Darius.
“That’s a great quote.” Darius rested his hand on the tiny woman’s shoulder.
Ms. Helen looked back at the reporter. She squeezed his large hand with her frail one. “It’s advice we can all use.”
Ramona walked to the altar. “I’ve got two.”
“You always were an overachiever.” Darius released Ms. Helen’s shoulder. His teasing eased the growing solemnity.
Alonzo sent the reporter a grateful look. This was a celebration. He didn’t want his guests becoming too serious.
“Thank you, Darius.” Ramona’s wry smile softened her sarcasm. She reached into her manila folder and pulled out a photo of an attractive older couple, laughing at the camera. She propped it on the altar. “My grandparents taught me the value of family and community.”
Megan passed Ramona on her way to the altar. She set a picture of a beautiful young couple, gazing at each other beside the photo Ramona had offered. “I never knew my parents. They died when I was very young. But my grandfather said I inherited my father’s business sense and my mother’s determination.”
“Determination? That’s a polite way of calling you stubborn.” Darius winked at Megan.
Megan’s laughter cleared the cloud of regret from her elegant, cocoa features. “Determined or stubborn, as long as I get my way in the end.”
Ean chuckled as he exchanged places with Megan. “My father encouraged me to set goals.” He put the photo of Paul Fever on the altar. Even in the photo, the tall, good-looking man projected a powerful personality. “This picture was taken during my law school graduation. His grin was so big. I don’t know whether that’s because he was proud of my accomplishment or because he was done with my school bills.”
Alonzo watched Doreen as Ean spoke of his father. A ghost of a smile curved her full lips. Her brown eyes were dreamy. She didn’t seem distressed. What was she thinking? Had he done the right thing, hosting this celebration? He turned his attention back to the ceremony.
Audra placed a photo of a pretty young woman on the altar before facing the group. “My high school music teacher said talent would only get you so far. She challenged me to go even farther. I appreciated her encouragement. Eventually.”
Audra returned to Jackson’s side and nudged him forward.
“My daughter, Zoey.” He placed a photo of a pretty, laughing little girl with long, brown hair beside the image of Audra’s music teacher. “She died just before her ninth birthday.”
“What would you like to tell us about her?” Audra’s voice was encouraging.
Jackson kept his eyes on the image of his daughter. Slowly a smile stretched his lips and brightened his sienna features. He met Audra’s eyes. “She gave me an appreciation for fairy tales.”
Alonzo watched Jackson return to Audra. The two held hands, entwining their fingers. He glanced down at Doreen’s hand. Would she welcome his touch now, or should he wait until the ceremony was over?
He raised his gaze, looking from Darius to Doreen. “Who wants to go next?”
Darius gestured toward Doreen. “Ladies first.”
>
“You’re always so chivalrous.” Doreen gripped a plain white envelope on her way to the altar. She shot a worried glance at Alonzo, then looked away. “Tonight, I want to celebrate Paul Fever.”
“He’s a good choice,” Alonzo spoke softly.
He hurt for Doreen—for both of them. He wished with all his heart he could convince her that he wasn’t interested in replacing Paul. Even if he wanted to, he knew he never could.
Doreen drew Paul’s photo from the envelope. She took a deep breath before displaying the picture. It was a color image of the tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing a pink-and-white apron as he displayed a tray of fresh-baked cookies.
“Paul taught me that true love is helping the other person to be the best she can be and supporting her goals.” Doreen’s throat muscles worked. “In this photo, he’s helping me bake cookies for a Heritage High School fundraiser.”
“I remember that fundraiser.” Darius continued in a deadpanned voice. “You would have raised more money if he’d just bought the cookies.”
“You’re probably right about that.” Doreen’s laughter joined her friends’. “But his heart was in the right place.”