“I see,” Susan said. She turned toward the freezer, yanked out a large bag, then proceeded to slice at Christine’s homemade cookie dough, which they liked to keep on-hand for just these occasions.
“Fantastic idea!” Lola said. She then walked toward Audrey and ruffled her hair. “How’s my little pregnant mouse?”
“I’m more like a frog these days. Or a pig, better yet,” Audrey groaned.
“Anyway, it looks like this photographer is going to join us for Thanksgiving dinner,” Christine said. She drew off her coat, then disappeared to hang it up. “He has a lot of interest in Charlotte’s work as a wedding planner. He’s a photographer for Wedding Today!”
This piqued Charlotte’s interest for the first time. She yanked her head around and said, “Did he say which weddings he’s photographed before?”
“I don’t think so. But he’s not really the type of person to brag about that stuff,” Christine said. “We did discover we’ve crossed paths a few times. Both of us single through our thirties, working on our careers—that kind of thing.”
“So, he’s not married?” Susan asked, arching a delicate eyebrow.
“Susan always wants everyone to be married,” Lola said.
“I don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” Susan replied. “So what? I want everyone to have the kind of happiness I used to have with Richard, that I now have with Scott.”
“Then what’s keeping you, kids, from getting hitched?” Audrey asked.
Susan rolled her eyes as she settled each cookie dough slice on the baking sheet.
“Aunt Charlotte,” Audrey breathed. “Hey. Aunt Charlotte...”
Charlotte did generally like that Audrey called her Aunt. They were all one big, happy, weird family, after all. But her mind was abuzz with wedding info, and she barely blinked up.
“I just want a piece of cookie dough, pre-baked. Well, pregnant baby wants it,” Audrey said.
Charlotte heaved a sigh, turned around, and collected a slice of the frozen cookie dough into her hand. After her delivery, she turned back and retrieved a morsel for herself. After that, everyone else chimed in with similar needs.
By the time the cookies were baked and the first round eaten up, it was nearly two in the morning. Charlotte had finalized even more details about Friday and Saturday and had managed to cook up even more anxiety than she’d had before. Win-lose? Even-steven?
“I think we should call it for the night,” Susan said.
Christine and Audrey had collapsed on the couch. Rachel sat on the floor with Christine’s cat, Felix, rubbing his neck. Lola nibbled at another cookie while scanning her Instagram feed.
“We have so much to do tomorrow. So much to prepare for!” Susan said.
Charlotte grinned inwardly. She snapped at the end of her pen and gave a little shrug. “I guess that’s all I can do for the day, huh?”
“And you promised you’ll take all day tomorrow off, right?” Susan said.
“It’ll be a challenge,” Charlotte said, wiping her hands on a towel.
“We’ll all watch you like a hawk and make sure you’re living in the moment. No matter what,” Lola said with a funny smile.
Charlotte watched as everyone slowly walked toward their separate bedrooms. Scott, Susan’s high school boyfriend and now, again, boyfriend, had built onto the house, allowing for two extra big beds in two bedrooms.
Still, even though they were frequently invited to stay, Charlotte never felt comfortable waking up in a house that wasn’t the one she, Rachel, and Jason had lived in together. It wasn’t anything she’d ever been able to explain. It was simply necessary, always, to her that they go home.
Plus, it was only a twenty-minute walk away.
Charlotte and Rachel bundled themselves up and hugged Susan goodbye. Susan insisted they come over as early as possible, both to help and gossip with the rest of the girls. “Amanda and Jake will be here around noon, I think, along with my grandbabies and their mama,” she said, squeezing Charlotte’s elbow with excitement. “I just can’t wait.”
Charlotte and Rachel walked through the snow, back toward their home. They both wore thick snow boots and stuffed their hands into their pockets. Charlotte studied the way the moon reflected against the snow, as beautiful as any painting.
“Mom?” Rachel asked suddenly, as they cut across the center of Oak Bluffs.
“What is it?”
“I can’t wait for this wedding to be over,” Rachel admitted.
Charlotte laughed. Her laugh echoed from building to building and then swept out across the water, through that impossible darkness that lurked between this island and the mainland. She wrapped an arm around Rachel’s shoulder and squeezed her tightly against her.
“I know, baby. I feel the same way.”
But did she? Charlotte had ached to think about anything else but the sadness in her heart. And as she clicked the key into the lock and shot open the door of their now two-person home, she marveled that she was perhaps further from heartache than she had been in the past year.
Business was an antidote, or maybe, it was just something to hide behind.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Rachel,” she breathed, watching as her daughter swept toward her bedroom. “I love you, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. Love you too, Mom.”
Chapter Eight
Everett awoke on Thanksgiving morning just after eight-thirty, which was a California man’s five-thirty. He rubbed his eyes and guffawed at the enormous amount of snow outside his window. It had shaken itself out over the boats that were latched to the docks, stacked itself over the nearby parked cars, and made itself up like icing on the tip-tops of trees.
It would be a winter wonderland wedding, after all.
Everett had placed the note Lola had given him on the bedside table. He lifted it to read the address again. A quick check on his phone revealed that wherever this was, it was just down the road. It marveled him to imagine it: a life of growing up on Martha’s Vineyard, walking to your job at the Sunrise Cove Inn, spending long days on boats, sunning beneath that glorious New England sky.
He was
