Chapter 37
Diana
Oh, blessed car charger. Blessed cell service. God bless us, everyone.
It’s Marlow. I already called her to let her know I’m safe. We just hung up a few minutes ago, actually. I press the button to pick up the call. “Hey, Mar—”
I clamp my mouth shut when I realize she has me on speaker. When I hear the familiar tinking and scraping of silverware, I know she has me eavesdropping on her diner. Is that Ike barking in the background? It is Ike. And I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Number one. Let me tell you some things about Diana. Her heart is huge and soft and… I love her. Like it or not, I’m going to try to keep her around as long as she’ll stay.
She's part of this town now. Get used to it. Every last one of you owes her an apology.” My heart is on the verge of bursting, then Ike adds, “So, if you guys could act fifty percent less weird around her, that would be great.”
I throw my hand over my mouth to cover my laugh. I don’t need Ike to know I’m listening. And I owe Marlow for this. I only regret that I don’t have some way to record it. Ike is on a roll.
And he isn’t done. “Number two. I won’t be this town’s sacrificial lamb any more.
” I smile at the familiar phrase. “I’m not going to be Mr. Everything for anyone but Diana.
I’ll do the job I’m paid to do, but I’m going to need everyone to pitch in around here.
And you can start pitching in by acting fifty percent less weird.
” A male voice says something I can’t make out, but Ike cuts him off quickly.
“You know what I mean by weird. Stop scaring tourists away with your tiny Speedo, Kevin. No more Speedos in the town green.”
The new rule is met with a chorus of agreement, and I can’t stop grinning.
“Buncha prudes.” I’m assuming that comment came from Kevin. “Let me be me.”
“There are a hundred ways to be yourself without showing everyone your… full name and address.” That sounded like Shelly. Her tone tells me she puts air quotes around “full name and address,” and now I’m picturing Kevin’s tiny Speedo. My stomach flips.
“Number three.” Ike talks over Kevin’s attempt at a rebuttal. “Number three.”
“Geez, how many numbers are there?” I don’t recognize that voice.
“This is the last one, and it’s related to the number two.
” I love the commanding tone in Ike’s voice.
I can picture his stern jawline and serious eyes, and I wish I were there.
“The lighthouse and keeper’s house took a beating last night.
This town did, too. We have to pull together to clean up and rebuild.
I can’t do this myself. The Yorks have invested enough.
” Ike sounds so tired now—he has to be after the last twenty-four hours.
“We all benefit from the lighthouse being restored. We’re all going to pitch in. Got it?”
“Got it.” I mostly hear Marlow this time.
“Okay, so what are the three things?” Ike prompts like he’s talking to a room full of first graders. “What was number three?” I picture him holding up three fingers.
“We’re all going to pitch in,” a few people murmur in unison.
“Good,” Ike says. “We’ll organize groups of volunteers at a town meeting tomorrow. That’ll give us the day to assess the damage and prioritize what needs to be done. Okay, and number two?”
I am here for every word of this. I get comfortable in my car seat. I wish I had some popcorn.
“No Speedos in the town green.” That butt-hurt voice was probably Kevin’s.
There’s an “ugh” that sounds like Marlow.
Ike prods, “And?”
“We’re all going to pitch in,” a man says.
“Good. Thanks, Hal.” There’s murmuring I can’t make out. Ike continues, “Okay, and number one?”
A bunch of people mutter a bunch of different things, but Marlow gives the gist of it when she says, “You love Diana. We’ll get used to it.”
“Yes. See? It’s simple. Three things.” I love the calm in Ike’s voice.
“Number two and number three are almost the same,” someone supplies.
“Oh, brother.” Marlow groans.
I have to agree with whoever that was, but I’m so proud of Ike for putting his foot down, I don’t care. Plus, he just announced in a town meeting that he loves me.
Ike Wentworth loves me. At our reception he told me he wants to make this business marriage a real marriage.
My reflex was to run, but now I can’t imagine a life that would make me happier.
The rightness of staying with Ike and finishing our lives together settles over me like a warm blanket.
When Boone’s scrawny arms wrapped around me I had the same feeling.
That panicked hug from a little boy made me realize that I don’t just love Ike.
I love this town, with all of its eccentricity and weirdness.
I belong here. This is home. Ike is my home.
“Can I say something?” I say loudly, hoping Marlow’s phone carries my voice over the noise so that Ike hears me.
“Everyone shut up,” Marlow bellows. “Diana has something to say.” She lowers her voice, pretending to whisper, her voice away from the phone when she hisses, “Remember. Fifty percent less weird. We can do this.” She clears her throat after her little pep talk. “Okay, Di. We’re all ears.”
I have to picture Ike, because if I imagine a diner full of Cape Georgeana’s weirdest, I’ll lose my nerve.
Instead, I remember how it felt to be held by Ike during the storm last night and the way my heart feels safe and whole when he comes in the door from work.
I can’t believe I ever thought I could live without him.
“Diana?” It’s him. He’s closer now, like Marlow gave him the phone. He leaves me on speaker, though. “Did you hear all of that?”
“I-I did. I have something to say, too.” I gather my nerve, sucking in a deep breath. I’m summoning my inner weirdo, like Shelly suggested. I’m committed. “Is everyone listening?”
There’s a smattering of yeahs and yeses, and one “not by choice.” I’ll take it.
Okay. I’m doing this. “I want this to be real, and I want you to be my husband for a long time—as long as you’ll take me.” My eyes are welling with tears, and the strain in my voice is making it obvious. I might as well go all in. “Oh, and I’m in love with you. I want to live here. With you.”
“With me?” That wasn’t Ike, and better not have been Speedo Kevin.
“With Ike, dingus,” Marlow mutters. “Diana is in love with Ike.”
It’s chaos on the other end of the line. Everyone is talking at once.
Maybe I should’ve done this in person.
“Di?” Ike calls over the noise.
That man is my husband, and I could not be happier about it. “I’m here.”
He tries to talk through the cacophony, but it’s impossible. Eventually he shouts over the noise, “I’m in. I’ll find you tonight—”
The line goes dead. I laugh. Did that really just happen?
I stare at the blank phone screen for a second, then shake my head and unbuckle my seat belt.
Ike—my real husband—is going to find me tonight.
In the meantime, I need to check on my grandparents.
By the time I tried to call them last night, the storm had knocked out the phones.
Before that, the last time I saw them was at the reception.
My hand freezes on the doorknob. I haven’t spoken to my grandparents about what my mom said. The drama my mother brought with her was overshadowed by trying to keep my head above literal water, but I still have questions.
There’s no chance that what my mom said was true, right? Would my grandparents have pushed her out of my life? It fits the pattern I’ve seen, but it doesn’t sit right.
I’m grateful for the speaker phone call with Ike and all of Marlow’s Diner. I’m in the mood to speak my mind and clear the air. I turn the knob and head straight for my grandpa’s office.
“Grandpa?” I call through the house. I’m not angry, but my tone is tense. I need more information. “Grandma?”
“Diana?” My grandpa’s voice comes from the direction of the den. “We’re in here. I gather you weathered the storm okay?”
“See? I told you she would be fine, Charles. She was with Ike,” my grandma gloats.
Nice, Grandma. “I need to talk to you about something important,” I call toward them as if they’re going to hide from me or run away.
I find my grandparents sitting together on the overstuffed couch watching TV. They’re sitting so close. So relaxed. It’s so unlike them.
“I need to—” I freeze when I spot Tom Selleck on the screen. The mustache scrambles my thoughts. Geez, this guy is everywhere. “I need to… Um, what are you watching?”
Grandma beams. “Three Men and a Little Lady. We’re hunkering down.” She wiggles her shoulders and pats the cushion beside her, inviting me to join their mid-day movie party. “Have a seat, Didi. What did you want to talk about? Pause it for me, will you Charles?”
I lower myself slowly onto the couch, smoothing my hands down my day-old jeans.
Now that I’m sitting here looking at her warm, brown eyes it’s hard to believe that my grandma would ever threaten my mother.
But I can’t live my life wondering if I missed out on a relationship with my mom because of some manipulative ultimatum they might’ve given her. I have to ask.
“What is it, Diana?” My grandma sits up. “You have me worried.”
I take a deep breath. “I heard something, and I need to know if it’s true,” I spit out in a rush. More deep breaths.
The clock ticks on the mantel. My grandma looks to my grandpa for help. He mumbles something that sounds like “I knew it would come to this.” My stomach jumps into my throat.
“It can’t be true.” I shake my head. I jump to my feet, pacing in front of the couch. My eyes feel hot, but I blink away the feeling. “I can’t believe you.”
My grandma clutches her hands together, pleading. “Diana, we only wanted you to be happy—”
“I bet you did.” I scoff. I can’t believe them.
My grandma stands in front of me. “When Stevie came to us with the idea, it seemed like the best way to—”
“What?” I ask, exasperated. Her words might as well be in Latin for as much sense as she’s making.
She sighs. “Stevie came to us with the idea. She said you had a bee in your bonnet about restoring the lighthouse. We all like that boy, and we want you here, and—”
“What are you saying?” I know I didn’t sleep well last night, but what is she talking about?
Stevie didn’t come to my grandparents with the marriage idea.
They came to me with the marriage proposal, then I went to Stevie…
who should’ve seemed more surprised and appalled by the idea, come to think of it.
She should’ve had more questions. The Stevie I know would’ve pushed back.
Oh.
Stevie. That little rat. I think back on the day I spent on her couch, coming up with a plan to save the lighthouse.
Stevie bounced out the door saying she needed to “run errands,” the faker.
Errands. Is that what we call it when we collude with the elderly to manipulate a friend into marrying another friend?
“Just making sure I understand.” I pinch my eyes closed, embarrassed that it took me so long to piece it together. “Stevie talked you into funding the restoration of the lighthouse—”
“That part was our idea.” My grandma thinks she's getting Stevie off the hook.
“So, Stevie just set me up with Ike.” Did Ike know about this? Was he in on it? I’m going to be sick. But I have to ask. “Was Ike in on it, too?”
“Heavens, no.” Grandma titters. “Stevie was afraid she’d have a tough time talking him into it, but I knew better. I knew he’d snap you up. He’s a smart man,” she says like a proud in-law.
Breathing deeply, I lower myself back onto the couch. Snap me up. I’m not a football, Grandma. I look at Tom Selleck on the screen for guidance. Should I be angry about this, Tom? He’s suspiciously quiet.
I’m trying so hard to be irritated or galled or something by this information.
I’ve spent years pushing back at the idea of marriage, but now that I’m in one, not only do I not dislike it, I quite enjoy it.
I hate being wrong. I especially hate learning that I’ve been wrong for years.
But if my error results in being loved by a man like Ike Wentworth, I can learn to live with it.
I’ll never admit it to my grandma or Stevie, though.
My grandma takes her seat beside me. “If that wasn’t it, what did you hear, if I may ask? What was it that you came to talk about?” Her voice is soft. She’s treading lightly now that she’s busted.
Oh, yeah. That other betrayal. The big one.
“Uh…” I don’t know where to start. “When my mom was here, she said that you guys told her to fall in line, or you’d cut her off.
” I fidget with my wedding ring while the words tumble out.
“She told me she had to choose between raising me alone, or leaving me with you.”
My heart aches at the pain on my grandma’s face. She shakes her head, muttering her daughter’s name and looking at my grandpa with watery eyes.
“That simply… isn’t true.” My grandpa’s solemn voice is like a bandage, and the weight of my mother’s words falls off of my shoulders. My grandpa frowns. “I hate to say it. I'm sorry, Diana. I wish I could tell you that your mother didn’t choose to leave—”
“It’s okay, Grandpa.” I swat away his apology. He doesn’t deserve to bear the weight of his daughter’s decisions any more than I do. “She left a long time ago, and I have you guys. I’m good.”
I will be, anyway. I didn’t think I’d feel reassured to know that my mother left me voluntarily.
I thought I’d feel abandoned all over again.
Instead, the status quo is comforting. This part of my life is what I knew it to be all along: My mother is gone, and my grandparents are here for me.
They always have been—including matchmaking me with a man who, for all they knew, thought I was a witch.
I snort. “I can’t believe you and Stevie tricked me into marrying Ike,” I say with a laugh.
Between the destruction caused by the storm and my mother, plus declaring my love for Ike in front of the whole town, I’m a buffet of strong emotions today.
Now I’m laughing so hard, my eyes fill with the tears I’ve held back all morning.
I sigh as I wipe them away, “You guys are so lucky that Ike is basically perfect, and this worked out well.”
My grandma smiles. “We knew it would.”
Then a familiar, gruff voice is in my head: I knew, too.
Pfft. Sure you did, Tom. What does Tom Selleck know about what would make me happy? This guy.
You said it yourself. You came here looking for joie de vivre, but a bearded man came with it—not a mustachioed one. You’re truly happy. My work here is done.
Somehow, my imaginary Tom Selleck waves goodbye with a bittersweet frown under his mustache.