Dear Rosie,

Carolyn and Mitch are married. I am so happy for them. The wedding was lovely and held in the backyard of Mitch’s rather palatial home in Alexander Valley. The place looks like a Tuscan villa, with cypress trees lining his driveway and a vineyard on the hills behind the house with all its grand landscaping, pool, and gazebo. Bernhard was all praises about it. I was equally impressed. I remember Mitch when he was a skinny, freckled redhead on a bicycle, riding off with Charlie to do some mischief and, later, a gangly young man with eyes for Carolyn, though she never seemed aware of his adoration. He has grown handsome, competent, confident—a man who always did know what he wanted: Carolyn. My prayers for her are answered. Mitch sees her as a gift from God and will treat her accordingly.

Carolyn asked May Flower Dawn to be her flower girl, but the child refused. She sat in the front row and sulked. Hildemara made no effort to correct her rude misbehavior. I wanted to turn both of them over my knee. Dawn will stay with Hildemara and Trip until Carolyn and Mitch return from a Hawaiian honeymoon. Hildemara understands she must relinquish May Flower Dawn. Or says she does. I wonder.

I tried to talk with Hildemara about our past, but she cut the conversation short. All I can do is keep holding out the olive branch and hope one day she will accept it.

Oh, Rosie, I look back and wish I had handled things differently. . . .