FOR MARTY AND ME, and Andie and Seth, it was like no other wedding ever. Still, the celebration ended just like any other. The musicians slipped their instruments into their cases. The caterers collected stray glasses and napkins. Guys in jumpsuits folded up the wooden tables. The old barn was becoming the old barn again. Except for all those twinkling white lights.

Tom left early but not before he came and gave both Marty and me high-fives and congratulations. “I was second, right?” he said.

“Tied for second.”

Lizzie and Mike waited for the crowd to disperse before they walked over to Marty and me. I was pleased to see color in Mike’s face, and while I couldn’t say that there was a spring in his step, he seemed to be walking okay and definitely to be feeling better. Leave it to Emily to know we needed a doctor in the family, her Bart.

“Thank you both for everything,” Marty said.

“I didn’t do much,” said Mike with a shrug. “All I really did was stay alive.”

Lizzie gave him a slap and said, “How long can I stand this gallows humor?”

“A long time, I hope,” said Mike.

“We’ll come by tomorrow to pick up Tallulah—late morning,” Mike said.

“Make that early afternoon,” said Marty.

“Oh, you crazy newlyweds!”

Seth and Andie stood talking to Claire and Jacob. Then they all walked over to say their good-nights.

“It was a nearly perfect wedding,” Jacob said with a grin. “You missed by some whiskers.” Damn, he was funny. I hoped this wouldn’t change anything between us. I didn’t think it would. Jacob was a big-picture guy, after all.

Finally Andie and Seth were the only ones left besides Marty and me—the four newlyweds.

Andie took my hands in hers. “Thank you so, so, so, so much, Gaby. You’re always so generous.”

I laughed. “What’s an extra wedding or two?”

“I’m going to grab our knapsacks, and then we’re heading back to Boston,” Seth said.

“Don’t drive all that way now,” Marty said. “Stay the night.”

“No,” said Andie. “We’re so hyper we couldn’t possibly go to sleep.”

Then Seth said in a loud whisper, “Plus, I reserved a suite at the Copley Plaza.”

“You didn’t,” shouted Andie.

“I did.” A pause. Then Seth said, “I love you, Mom.”

I nodded. “I love you too. My favorite son.”

Moments later Marty and I turned and surveyed the empty barn. A chicken squawked. An owl landed on a rafter. Everything was as it had been—except it was still Christmas, and Marty and I were married.

He took my hand. Then he kissed me softly on the lips, and he was a really terrific kisser. Gentle and firm and just right. Part of his charm, part of the attraction.

“You know, it’s late,” he said.

“I know.” But we didn’t head for the house right away. Instead, I rested my head on his chest and Marty started to hum our song, “The Way You Look Tonight.”

And we danced in the magical glow of the twinkling lights, and I couldn’t have been happier. Believe it or not, that happens sometimes.