Chapter 8
Sunday afternoon found nearly thirty members of the Moretti family gathered in Luke's parents' backyard.
Elaine had transformed the patio into what she casually referred to as "a little barbecue," though there were fresh flowers on every table, linen napkins instead of paper, and enough food to cater a wedding reception.
Grace was beginning to suspect Elaine simply didn't know how to entertain casually.
Luke squeezed her hand as they walked through the gate. "You okay?"
Grace smiled. "I'm fine."
"You don't have to be fine."
"I know." She looked around the yard.
Children ran through the sprinkler near the fence. Luke's father stood at the grill wearing an apron that read King of the Coals. Three of Luke's cousins were setting up a cornhole tournament while music drifted from hidden outdoor speakers.
It looked...normal.
Happy.
Grace wanted desperately to feel like she belonged here.
Elaine spotted them almost immediately. "There they are!" She crossed the patio with both arms open, kissing Luke's cheek before embracing Grace warmly. "I'm so glad you made it."
"We wouldn't miss it," Luke said.
Elaine turned toward the buffet tables. "Brooklyn brought her potato salad."
Grace felt Luke glance sideways at her. Just for a second. Then he smiled politely. "I'm sure Dad will be happy."
"He always is." Elaine laughed and hurried away to greet another arrival.
Luke leaned closer. "Sorry."
Grace shook her head. "For what?"
"I know she keeps..." He searched for a word. "...bringing Brooklyn up."
Grace slipped her hand into his. "It's okay."
It wasn't. But she appreciated that he'd noticed.
That alone felt like progress.
Brooklyn arrived twenty minutes later.
She carried a glass baking dish balanced carefully in both hands, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, sunglasses resting on top of her head. She looked perfectly suited to a summer family gathering.
Which, Grace realized, she should.
She'd been attending them for most of her life.
The realization hurt more than she expected.
Brooklyn greeted Luke's parents first, hugged two cousins, accepted a drink from Luke's uncle without asking, then finally made her way toward Grace and Luke.
"There you are." She smiled brightly. "I've barely seen you two." She kissed Grace lightly on the cheek before hugging Luke.
It lasted perhaps one second too long.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Long enough for Grace to.
Brooklyn stepped back.
"I love your dress."
Grace looked down at the simple blue sundress she'd worn without much thought. "Thank you."
"It photographs beautifully."
Grace frowned slightly. "I'm sorry?"
"For your engagement pictures. You should wear this." Brooklyn laughed. "I've seen this color on camera before. It'll be gorgeous."
Grace hadn't told anyone she and Luke were taking engagement photos the following weekend.
Luke answered before she could. "We're actually wearing different outfits."
Brooklyn blinked. "Oh."
A tiny pause. "I thought Natalie mentioned..." She stopped herself.
Grace's stomach tightened.
Natalie.
The photographer.
Brooklyn smiled again. "I must be mixing things up."
Luke's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Not suspicion.
But confusion.
Brooklyn seemed to realize she'd said a little too much. "Anyway," she said brightly, "I'm stealing Grace for a minute."
Before Grace could answer, Brooklyn looped an arm lightly through hers. "I need your opinion."
Grace looked toward Luke.
He shrugged. "I'll rescue you if she starts talking about napkin rings."
Brooklyn laughed. "I promise I'll bring her back."
Grace followed her across the lawn. Not because she particularly wanted to. Because refusing would have looked absurd. They stopped near the hydrangeas bordering the property. Brooklyn picked a tiny piece of lint from her sleeve before speaking.
"I hope things aren't awkward."
Grace looked at her. "They're not."
"I've been worried." Brooklyn's voice was softer than usual. "I got the feeling I hurt your feelings after the tasting."
Grace hadn't expected this. "You didn't hurt my feelings."
Brooklyn studied her for a long moment. "You feel I overstepped."
It wasn't a question.
Grace stayed quiet.
Brooklyn smiled faintly. "I know I do."
That surprised her.
"When you've known people forever..." Brooklyn glanced toward the patio where Luke was laughing with his father. "...you stop thinking before you act."
Grace followed her gaze.
Luke threw his head back at something his cousin said. He looked happy. Comfortable. Entirely himself.
"I understand history," Grace said carefully.
"I don't think you do." The words weren't cruel. They were almost sad.
Grace looked back at Brooklyn.
"I've watched Luke fall in love three times."
Grace blinked. "What?"
Brooklyn smiled apologetically.
"That came out wrong." She sighed.
"I only mean I've been there through every serious relationship he's ever had."
Grace's stomach tightened.
"I know him when he's excited. I know him when he's scared. I know when he starts pretending everything's fine."
Grace folded her arms. "And?"
Brooklyn looked genuinely conflicted. "I think you're wonderful."
Grace almost laughed. There it was again. The impossible compliment. The kind that made disagreement feel petty.
"But?"
Brooklyn shook her head. "No but." She hesitated.
"I just hope you won't push him away.”
Grace stared at her. "I'm sorry?"
"He hates conflict."
"I know."
"He'll always choose peace if he can." Brooklyn smiled sadly. "Sometimes women mistake that for not caring."
Grace's pulse quickened. "Is that what happened with Marissa?"
Brooklyn looked startled. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"You already did." Brooklyn looked down at the grass. "They loved each other."
Grace waited.
"They just... stopped believing the other person meant well."
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
A breeze stirred the leaves overhead. Children shrieked happily somewhere behind them.
Finally Grace asked quietly, "Why are you telling me this?"
Brooklyn met her eyes."Because I don't want that to happen again."
Grace searched her face.
She looked sincere.
Completely.
Utterly.
And yet something about the conversation felt wrong.
Brooklyn had somehow become the person offering relationship advice.
The keeper of Luke's emotional history, the expert.
Grace smiled politely. "I appreciate your concern, but it’s unneeded."
Brooklyn nodded. "I'm glad." She reached over and squeezed Grace's forearm. "I really do want you to be happy."
As they walked back toward the patio, Grace found herself wondering why every conversation with Brooklyn left her feeling as though she'd somehow lost ground.
Luke looked up the moment they returned. "You survive?"
Grace smiled, but stayed silent.
Brooklyn laughed. "I told you I'd bring her back."
Luke slipped an arm around Grace's waist. "Good. Because I'm stealing her now."
Brooklyn's smile slipped a little, then came back, full force. "Of course." She stepped aside easily.
Luke steered Grace toward the drink table, his hand resting lightly against the small of her back.
"What was that about?"
Grace looked over her shoulder.
Brooklyn was already laughing with Luke's sister as though the conversation had never happened.
"Nothing."
Luke studied her. "It didn't look like nothing."
Grace almost told him. Almost repeated every word. Instead she imagined trying to explain why the conversation bothered her.
Brooklyn had complimented her.
Expressed concern.
Shared insight.
Encouraged her to understand Luke better.
How terrible.
Grace picked up two glasses of lemonade. "She was just telling me stories about when you were younger."
Luke relaxed. "Oh." There it was again. The relief. The assumption that whatever Brooklyn had said couldn't possibly have crossed a line.
Grace handed him a glass. She smiled because she loved him. Because she wasn't ready to become the woman who dissected every conversation.
But somewhere deep inside, a quiet certainty continued to grow.
Brooklyn wasn't trying to become Grace's friend. She was trying to become indispensable.
And those were not the same thing.