Chapter 16
May 2014
…Which people did, nineteen years later, at least in England. “I wish he’d been able to make it,” Gerry said, staring out the window of the limo.
Mark laughed, but he reached for Gerry’s hand and squeezed it. “Fawn, we barely made it.”
Wishing never really did make things happen, Gerry figured. So no, Manon didn’t make it to the ceremony. Lung cancer had taken him to meet his Maker back in two-thousand and nine. Too many of their associates were dropping into the land of the permanent sleep these days. But they’d made it, and sixty-some wasn’t that bad for finally tying the knot.
The lines around Mark’s eyes and mouth were starting to deepen, and it took salon appointments to take the silver out of his hair, but the bugger had been blessed with the kind of looks th
