The white organza skirt made a swishing sound as Glory paced back and forth across the thick plush carpet. French-manicured fingers smoothed imaginary wrinkles on the imported lace bodice of her wedding gown. She stopped for the tenth time in front of the mirror and fiddled with the already perfectly-placed jeweled comb in her platinum hair.

She was as nervous as a—she paused for a moment and let out a small nervous laugh— she was as nervous as a stripper in church.

Glory hadn’t danced in years and the banquet hall, which was currently filled with mobsters and bikers, was certainly no house of worship, but she figured the sentiment could still be applied.  The small bit of self-deprecating humor made Glory feel better.

For a moment.

Then the sense of loss washed over her again like a rising tide.

Because on a day like this, a girl wants her mom.

Even if that girl had a posse of— got your back —thick and thin and do anything in the world for you—besties.

On her wedding day, a bride just needs her mother.

And even though Jules had given Glory an unlimited budget, and her girls had spent months and months trying to make this day perfect for her, Glory’s parents being there on her wedding day was the one thing that no one could give her.

Glory and Hal’s upbringing had been…she searched for the word and settled on…unconventional. As the offspring of an entertainment mogul and an international fashion model, their early childhood years had been marked by a lifestyle of privilege and indulgence. Unfortunately, the tides gradually turned and by the time Glory and Hal were in early adolescence, the Thomas Empire had begun to crumble.

What followed was a series of desperate attempts by their father to regain what he had lost, and eventually those attempts led to the death of both parents. Their untimely passing forced Glory and Hal to make desperate life choices that would have far reaching consequences and forever alter their destinies.

But despite all the struggles and sorrow, Glory was surprised to find herself full of want and nostalgia for days gone by. She would have given anything in this moment to have her parents by her side.

When she heard the knock at the door, Glory wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her spine. Thank goodness for Dolly’s motherly instincts and wonderfully tactful ways. After helping Glory into her dress, she had taken a long-measured look, given her a hard hug then made the excuse to go check on things, thus giving Glory a much-needed moment to herself.

Now Dolly had come back to escort her to the lavish hall where her brother was waiting to walk her down the aisle.

And Glory was ready.

She really and truly was.

She couldn’t wait to marry Jules, and she was so excited to start the celebration. She just wished that long ago, when she and her brother had been forced to settle her parents’ estate, she had thought to tuck one small thing away so that she could have a piece of them with her today.

RAP! RAP! RAP!

Glory jumped as the door practically rocked off its hinges.

She threw a startled look across the room because that was not the knock of a patient woman.

“Glory?” A deep rasp sounded out. “Open up.”

Hal.

Glory hurried across the room and pulled open the door to find her brother standing in the hallway. Out of habit she gave him a quick head to toe sweep, and as always, was momentarily taken back at how fierce he had become. After a bomb blast in Kandahar had left Hal badly scarred, broken, and near death, her brother had reclaimed his physical strength with a vengeance. Hal continued to train daily and ferociously.  His body was strong and solid and enormous.  By any measure, Hal’s physical rehabilitation would have been considered a complete success.

Through no wish of his own, the rest of him looked better too.

Due to the considerable extent of his injuries, a thick, heavy layer of facial scar tissue had begun to cause Hal’s eyelid to droop significantly. And with her brother’s strong and obsessive need for constant vigilance, limited vision was not only an inconvenience, it was a deal breaker.

So, even though Hal had vehemently and loudly voiced his opposition to any kind of cosmetic surgery that would “pretty boy himself up,” in the end practicality won out. Hal had reluctantly allowed the procedure. That, it turned out, had been a very smart decision. Upon closer examination, the doctors found that a good deal of the shrapnel that riddled the left side of Hal’s face had become seriously inflamed and dangerously infected.

In order to avoid further burgeoning health complications, the metal bits in his face had to be removed. So, in one fell swoop, not only had Hal’s eyelid had been perfectly repaired, but the itchy, black bumps that ran across his face like a parade of ugly insects had been smoothed out. The end result was two-fold.  Hal’s physical appearance improved dramatically, but more importantly, the surgery allowed for a good deal of his pain to ease.

But Glory couldn’t help but wonder what lie beneath? What torments lurked in the deepest shadows of her brother’s soul? Glory had not one doubt in her mind that the healing there had barely begun.

If it had begun at all.

If anything, her brother seemed to be more taciturn, focused, and driven than she had ever seen him. Glory had hoped that Hal’s patching over into the Saints would provide him that same sense of belonging the Marine Corps had given him.

And perhaps it had. Maybe she was reading her brother all wrong. Glory was painfully aware that she could never really be sure about anything concerning Hal. Not that she wasn’t thankful at how far they had both come. Glory appreciated the fact that her brother was standing in front of her alive and whole and well was nothing short of a miracle.

She smiled her welcome at Hal as he stepped hesitantly into the room.

“You look beautiful, Glory.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”  Glory reached up to straighten his already perfectly knotted tie.

The brother and sister smiled tentatively at each other as a million shared memories filled the silence between them.

Hal was first to break the quiet, and with a nod towards her feet, he asked, “You gonna walk down the aisle barefoot?”

“What?” Glory followed his gaze. “Oh, that!” Then she shrugged, “Honestly, I’ve been waiting until the last minute to put my heels on. Serves me right for giving in to vanity. The shoes are so perfect for the dress that I bought them even though they’re a half size too big. My foot slides forward and makes my toes hurt when I wear them. I’m gonna ditch them at the reception.”

Hal went over to the side of the bed and picked up the white silk designer shoes. With his back to Glory he fiddled with them for a moment, then he handed them to her.  “Maybe this will help.”

Glory looked confused for a moment and then let out a cry of unmitigated joy.  She wrapped her arms around her brother in a tight hug.

“You remembered!” She exclaimed as she pulled away and reached into the toes of the shoes.

She held up the Swedish coins and recited the old saying, “One silver coin in the bride’s left shoe from her father and one gold coin in her right shoe from her mother, to ensure that she will never go without.”

“Yeah, I can still hear mom going on and on about all those old traditions.” Hal nodded. “I found a coin store and…” His voice trailed off as if he were suddenly embarrassed at the sentiment.

“They’re perfect,” Glory said softly. “Just exactly what the day needed. Thank you, Hal.”

She slipped into the shoes and felt the coins press against her feet. Long tentacles of comfort radiated upward from her legs, wrapped around her heart, and warmed her.

“Hey, uh … Glory?” Hal began then paused for a moment, because this was not going to be a comfortable conversation.  He strained against the collar that was suddenly choking him and ignored the dryness in his mouth. In the interest of his sister’s happiness, shit had to be said.

Hal’s hesitation immediately caught Glory’s attention because it was not like her brother to censor himself.

“What’s wrong, Hal?” She frowned.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. What I mean is that nothing’s wrong with me if nothing’s wrong with you.” Hal scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is—if you are having any doubts— if there is something that is keeping you up here instead of heading down that aisle? Then you just say the word, and I’ll go down there and tell everyone the deal’s off and to get their asses home. I got no problem with that. No problem at all. If, for whatever reason, you’ve decided this isn’t what you want? You tell me and I’ll handle it. Won’t be easy, because that big fucker Jules? He loves the shit out of you, but he ain’t no match for me on his best day.” Hal flexed and made a hard fist. “So, Glory, what I’m saying in my own screwed up way is if you need out— you have out.”

Glory’s eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open in shock and surprise.

It took her a moment to recover.

“Thank you, Hal. But no. I don’t want anyone to get their asses home.”

“You sure?” Hal pressed her.

“I’m sure.” She nodded vehemently.

Then she smiled at him, because it really was a sweet and protective gesture. “I do appreciate you for checking in though. But you can be sure that I want to marry Jules as much as he wants to marry me.”

Hal gallantly crooked his elbow to her.  “You ready then?” 

“I’m ready.” Glory smiled as she wrapped her arm through his.

Thank Christ for that Hal thought as he felt a sense of relief fill him. Because, despite his words of reassurance to Glory, if his sister had really changed her mind about marrying Jules then God help them all. Even though he meant every word he said to Glory, there was no way Hal would have been able to get Jules to leave that altar except in a body bag.

And that would have been a real goddamn shame because Hal and Jules…well, I guess you could say they had begun to grow on each other.