This Love Will Go On by Shirley Larson

but Michele's rejection colored every facet of the boy's life, Jade knew. He was his old self only after a day spent with Raine.
    He'd agreed to Julia's persuasion and allowed them to set up a visiting schedule with Tate. He wasn't quite sure why he had given in so readily. Maybe because he knew she spoke the truth, that Tate did need to know there were women around him who cared for him. Jade hadn't been enthralled with the idea at first, giving Tate over to Raine and Julia every Saturday, but when Tate came home, so obviously happy and anxious to share with Jade the details of his exciting day, Jade knew he couldn't rescind his decision. The die was cast.
    He'd thought Sandy would be a good influence on Tate, too. But for some reason Tate was wary of Sandy, even though she tried very hard to understand the boy.  She'd insisted that Tate be included in the wedding party so he'd feel a part of things, and even in the hubbub of today, she'd spared a moment to speak to Tate and tease him out of his stage fright.  In her radiant happiness, Sandy spilled affection over everyone.  Marc accepted her love with a foolish grin on his face.  Jade's lips moved in a cynical smile. He only hoped Marc had better luck with marriage than he’d had.
    Jade ran a finger around under the tight collar. What a day.  The wedding took place at a small country church, but after a picture taking session that had Jade mentally crawling the wall, the wedding party drove back into Verylon. The reception was at the Legion Hall, a barn of a building roughly the size of a small airplane hangar with the same ambience. Someone had tried to decorate it and had almost been defeated by the task. They solved the problem by tying pink and white crepe paper streamers to the backs of the .chairs and suspending a huge pair of paper, accordion-pleated doves from the ceiling. Above the heads of the guests, the doves moved lazily in the heated air, their plump breasts bumping in inanimate affection. In the corner of the room a group of musicians played romantic songs. The whole atmosphere clawed at Jade's nerves.  He wanted nothing more than to go home, pull the tie from his throat, get out of the idiotic rented monkey suit and stop pretending he was happy to be at his brother’s wedding celebration.
    The room was filled with the scent of roses, perfume and coffee brewing, yet somehow out of that mixture of aromas, he caught the whiff of a delicate scent he had never forgotten.
    “How are you holding up, Tate?”
    It was Raine, just as he knew it would be, slender and lovely in a blue silk dress he couldn't remember seeing her wear before, squatting down in front of Tate, reaching out to straighten the small tie that didn't want to stay level. Behind her stood a man, a dark-haired man he didn't know. The man smiled down at Tate. “Hi, tiger. You knocked 'em dead in the church this afternoon. I've never seen anyone carry a ring pillow with such style.” Tate smiled up at the man, obviously familiar with his teasing. As the guy smiled back at the boy, his hand dropped to Raine's shoulder in a gesture of possession.
    Involuntarily, Jade's hands clenched at his sides.
    “It was okay,” Tate said. To Raine, he said wistfully “Have you had cake?”
    Raine smiled. “Hey, listen, you're the privileged character. You're in the wedding party.  I won't get mine until you have yours.”
    Tate stared back at her with Michele's eyes. “Why can't I have mine?”
    “You have to wait until everyone has some punch and says hello to your uncle and your new aunt.”  She poked the center of his pearl cummerbund with a delicate, pink fingernail. “Are you hungry? Maybe I can steal some mints and nuts for you off the punch bowl table.”
    “He isn't hungry,” Jade said softly, staring down at her head, taking in the silky perfection of her golden brown hair as it lay in shining waves halfway down her back.  “He wants to go home.  And he isn’t the only