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reaching for Gram’s hand. He actually raised it to his lips and kissed it.
    “Gram? Is that so?”
    She nodded.
    “But you never said anything. You never hinted.” I looked from one of them to the other. “Well! Congratulations.” I hoped I was making sense.
    Gram? My Gram? Getting married ?
    She’d been married to my grandfather, but he’d died long before I was even born. I’d never pictured Gram married. She was just . . . Gram. I’d figured she would be forever.
    “I knew you’d be happy for me, Angel. And I was going to tell you, as soon as we’d finished up with the memorial service. I was. There just hasn’t been time.”
    But they’d been . . . dating? Did you call it dating when you were over sixty?
    “I’m happy for you. Both of you. Really. I’m just surprised.”
    “We’d wanted to have a tiny, quiet ceremony, but with Tom’s job, he’s expected to invite everyone in the congregation. So we’re going to do it all. Church wedding, reception. The whole traditional event.” They were both grinning. They were serious about this.
    “I never thought you’d be married before I was, Gram,” I blurted, and immediately knew that was the wrong thing to have said. Besides, marriage was definitely not on my immediate horizon. If ever! I’d dated a guy named Jeff for a while in Mesa. It had felt pretty serious, but it hadn’t worked out, and I’d almost been relieved. Marriage was a long-term decision. I was more the day-to-day type. Maybe like Mama, although I hated to admit it.
    “Most grandmothers get married before their granddaughters, you know,” she said, laughing. “Tom and my timing is just a little different.” She looked at Tom, and I could see excitement and happiness on her face, which I’d never seen before. How had I not even considered that she might want someone in her life? She turned back to me. “We don’t want to make it public for a few more weeks. But I’d love for you to be my maid of honor, Angel. Maybe a late June wedding?”
    Late June! I hadn’t planned to stay that long. Maybe I could leave and then come back. But I couldn’t turn her down, weird as it felt. “I’d . . . be honored. You know, I’ve never been anyone’s maid of honor.”
    “I’m glad you’re here.” Gram looked from Reverend Tom to me and then back again. “How could my life be better? Angel is home again, and we’re planning our wedding. Remember though, Angel, for now it’s our secret. Only the three of us know.”
    “Got it. Do you have any champagne? I feel as though we should celebrate!” I said. It wasn’t the cognac I’d been thinking of, but champagne would do. Now I really did need a drink.
    “I’ve been keeping one handy,” Gram answered. She pulled a bottle of Moët from the back of the refrigerator. “This is just the time to open it. Tom, would you do the honors?”
    A few minutes later we were raising glasses. “To a new beginning,” I said.
    “To forgetting the past, and getting on with the future,” added Gram.
    “And to the woman I love, and her understanding granddaughter, whom I’m grateful to finally meet,” said Reverend Tom.
    We clinked our glasses together and drank.
    “Now everything would be perfect if I could get Mainely Needlepoint back on track,” said Gram. “And you’re helping me do that, Angel.”
    I nodded. I hoped she hadn’t put too much faith in me. “And I want to know who killed Mama,” I added.
    Reverend Tom shook his head slightly. “Joe Greene killed your mother, Angie. I don’t think there’s much question about that.”
    “Maybe. Maybe he did. But I want to be certain,” I answered.
    “Why don’t you let those questions go,” said Gram. “Now you know your mama didn’t leave you intentionally. She was taken from you. It’s time to move on.”
    Maybe it was time for Gram to move on. But I wanted that last t crossed. “First job: finding Jacques Lattimore,” I said, raising my glass again. Then I’d see what