Car horns blared at us as Leona wove in and out of the Chicago traffic, each one raising my blood pressure. “It’s rather inconvenient of them to hold the ceremony during rush-hour,” she said as she cut off another car. “I’m not sure convenience was on their mind,” I bit out. “Do you know the church?” Ronan asked. He was clutching the door and his seat as Leona took another turn too quickly. “Not well. It’s the one I got married in, but I was just there briefly for the ceremony.” “Ahh, wonderful. Filled with good memories, I’m sure,” Leona deadpanned.
