Chapter Eleven
Caroline
As the first rays of dawn stretch across Blue Alder Cove, I find myself tightening the sash of my robe and tiptoeing into Maggie’s room.
The house buzzes with an energy that hasn’t been felt since Em was little and Christmas morning was a wild frenzy filled with squeals.
Today, though, it’s a different sort of excitement.
It’s a kind of day you remember forever.
Lila, Alison, and Emilie follow behind me.
“Maggie, wake up. It’s your wedding day.”
She stirs, blinking her eyes. A wide grin spreads across her face as the reality of the moment sinks in. “I’m getting married today.”
“It’s a big day, Mom.” Alison squeezes her.
We’ve been through so much together since the day we met. Sending our kids to their first day of school, parenting teenagers, Mags losing her husband, me divorcing mine, and now, we’re here. On the cusp of her new beginning with Jake. A surge of emotion fills me, and I wipe my tears.
“Care, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I manage, brushing away the tears. “I’m just so happy for you.”
She beams at me, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m happy too. So happy.”
She waves us all into a group hug. All five of us take a moment to bask in the sisterhood that binds us. Yes, even Alison and Emilie. They’re like our little built-in besties.
“Now,” I chirp, clapping my hands together and rallying my planner spirit, “we don’t have any time to waste. Let’s get this day started!”
Mags’ living room is turned into our very own beauty salon: makeup, hair, and wardrobe. Edna brings breakfast from the diner, and the photographer arrives and takes pictures while we’re getting ready.
My phone buzzes on the side table as I’m getting my hair curled. I glance at the screen and see it’s an incoming call from Charlotte. I excuse myself and answer.
“Caroline Tate? This is Jade from The Petal Parlor. We’ve run into a bit of a problem.”
She explains there’s a five-car pileup on the interstate, and it may be hours before it’s cleared. The delivery van carrying Maggie’s perfectly picked florals is stuck nearly twenty miles away.
No flowers. On a wedding day.
I rub my temples, trying to quiet the rising tide of panic. Flowers aren’t just décor; they’re the soft finishing touch that makes everything feel complete.
But then, I remember who I am.
I am Caroline Tate, queen of backup plans.
I’ve dealt with bigger problems than this.
Crisis? No, this is an opportunity to do what I do best.
The problem is access. My usual city florists are unreachable with the interstate closed, and time is not on our side. So I do the only thing that makes sense.
I go local.
I pull out my phone and text Edna, Maribeth, and every other townsperson’s number I have. I explain the situation, short and honest, with a hopeful please attached at the end. Within seconds, my phone chimes with replies.
Within the hour, Maggie’s lawn is filled with buckets and mismatched vases of flowers. The local florist stripped her shop of every bloom she could spare. Neighbors bring hands full of flowers they clipped from their own gardens.
Of course, after I had a plan mapped out, I filled Maggie in. Her eyes well up as this small-town community, the same one that came to help her through her grief and find love again, comes together without question to help one of their own.
This wedding will be remembered not just for how it looks, but for how deeply it is held by the people who love her. And for proof that sometimes beauty blooms most vividly when plans fall apart.
Now that the crisis has been diverted, I’ve checked on the guys to make sure they have what they need. I check in with the day-of coordinator, Jen, and make sure she’s all set. The DJ has set up, the centerpieces are being arranged on the tables, and everything else is perfectly in its place.
I take one last glance as I stand on the porch. Another beautiful wedding, but this one even more special for my Mags. Then I retreat into the house to finish getting ready.
And then…it’s time. The guests start arriving, filling the backyard with soft chatter.
I slip on the blue bridesmaid dress. We all have a different style, mine accentuating my curves in a way that makes me feel elegant and confident.
Lila zips up the back and steps back to survey me. “You look beautiful, Care. Tom will be speechless.”
I chuckle and wave my hand. “It’s not about me, or Tom, today. All about our best friend.”
Now that we’re all dressed, we turn our attention to Maggie, still sitting in her robe.
“Ready, Mags?” Lila asks.
She takes a breath and smiles. “More than ready.”
There’s a light knock on the door, then Jen peeks her head through. “How are we doing?”
“Bride’s getting her dress on, then we’ll be ready,” I tell her.
She nods, then leaves, and we all turn back to Maggie. There’s a serene glow about her that puts me at ease. We help her get into her dress, then stand back.
“Wow, Mom,” Alison whispers as she ties the back. “You look beautiful.”
Maggie stands in front of the mirror and smiles. “I never thought I’d be here again. I’m so blessed to be able to share this day with all of you.”
We get in our order and stand ready to exit the front door to walk down to the aisle. We’re just waiting on Tom and Matthew.
“Are you nervous, Mags?”
“A little bit. But it’s the good kind of nerves, you know? The kind you have when you know something amazing is about to happen.”
I smile, my heart full of happiness for her. “That’s the best kind.”
Tom enters through the back door, and the moment I spot him, my heart races and my cheeks flush.
I knew what he’d be wearing; I helped pick it out, but I didn’t see him in it yet.
And I wasn’t prepared for the way it would leave me breathless.
He’s swapped his usual BACFD shirt and jeans for a cream shirt unbuttoned at the top and navy-blue dress pants.
His thick dark hair is a little more styled, but not overly so.
He looks utterly stunning, every inch the dashing man he is.
“Red,” he says breathlessly, almost a whisper.
I hear giggling behind me, and that’s when I realize everyone is watching us. Tom clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You ladies all look beautiful. Especially you, Maggie.” He kisses her cheek. “Where am I standing?”
“Next to me, Firefighter.”
Matthew walks in and hugs his mom. Then I instruct him to stand with his sister and Emilie as I hand out the bouquets with Maggie last.
As we fall into final formation, Tom leans toward me. “You look stunning, Red.” His warm breath fans along my neck.
“Right back at you, handsome.” I offer a quick smile, which he returns, making my insides flutter.
Together, we make our way down the aisle. The lake shimmers under the sunlight, soft music is accompanied by the laps of the shore, and rows of wooden chairs are filled with eager faces, all there to witness Maggie and Jake’s love.
The ceremony is beautiful, heartfelt, and there’s no denying the love they share as they say their vows to one another.
They share their first kiss as husband and wife, and the crowd erupts into cheers and applause.
The joyous celebration begins immediately, a whirl of music and dancing.
Watching both of my best friends dance with their husbands, a wave of contentment washes over me.
This is what it’s all about—love, happiness, and moments like these that truly matter.
And then there’s Tom. I observe him from the corner of my eye, laughing as he speaks with the other firefighters. He seems to sense my gaze because his eyes meet mine across the dance floor. Tom excuses himself and walks toward me. The music shifts to a slow song, and Tom extends his hand to me.
“May I have this dance?” He holds his hand out to me.
My heart skips a beat as I place my hand in his. “It would be my pleasure.”
As we move to the center of the dance floor, he pulls me close. Our bodies sway to the rhythm, matching each other’s movements effortlessly. His hand on the small of my back, the other holding mine. As we slowly turn, I catch a glimpse of Maggie and Jake, their happiness radiating from them.
Suddenly, I want what they have. I want to wake up and fall asleep next to Tom, to share in his joys and sorrows, to build a life together here in Blue Alder Cove. But how can I uproot my life in Charlotte on a whim?
The thought surprises even me. I’ve been so hesitant. I’ve been the one holding back. We haven’t even talked about our feelings, let alone building our life together. I must be overwhelmed with today, the wedding, and all the love stuff. That’s it. It’s just the wedding.
“I’m the luckiest man here,” he whispers.
I look at him, shocked. “Oh, stop.”
“I mean it, Caroline. One, have you seen yourself? Every man here is jealous of me right now.”
I roll my eyes at him, but he continues, “And two, you, Caroline Tate, are a very talented woman. You did an amazing job with this wedding, with raising Emilie, with becoming who you are today.”
My throat tightens, a mix of emotions threatening to bubble over. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of planning this wedding, juggling responsibilities, and falling for a man I never saw coming. Falling for a man who’s shown me real kindness, not the kind that’s put on for show.
“You truly are the most loving and selfless person I know. And no matter what transpires between us, I want you to know that I…” he pauses, and I search his brown eyes. “I’m grateful for the time we’ve had together.”
His words slam into me like a crashing wave that’s taking me under. He makes me feel seen and loved and then…it sounds like goodbye. Is that what he wants? I thought he was going to confess his feelings for me. Beg me to stay. Tell me not to leave.
But maybe that’s not what he wants. It was just a fun little fling. I rest my head on his chest as we sway to the music. I feel the steady thump of his heart against my cheek, memorizing its rhythm. His shirt absorbs the single tear I can’t hold back. I guess this really is goodbye.