Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
CHARLIE GAVE UP ON THE futile attempt to tame her hair as the boat whipped across the water’s surface.
Even with a hair tie, strands escaped, dancing over her cheeks and eyes.
She’d spent a quiet day after the workshops planning lessons and reading the course material someone else had selected for her to teach at the college.
But Bernie had insisted she join him for breakfast at the lodge the following morning.
There, Jill and Presley had invited her to join them on a trip to Smile to check in on the wedding venue.
She’d said no at first, not wanting to intrude, but Presley was more than a little persistent.
With Bernie’s nudging and the need to escape the way her heart beat out of rhythm near Gray, she gave in.
They passed other islands that seemed heavily populated with homes and boat docks.
She wondered how many were vacation spots as opposed to full-time homes and her thoughts immediately slipped back to Gray.
Did he live at the lodge all the time? What about the winter months?
It’d been so long since a man piqued her interest. Vivi would say it was worth all the drama to meet a man like Gray.
But she wasn’t her mother. She didn’t need the drama or the man.
But a little connection and companionship never hurt.
Her thoughts zipped to her ex and his recent insistence that she owed him for hiding the truth.
Maybe connection and companionship did hurt.
Presley sat beside Charlie, managing to look chic despite the orange life vest. She finished typing something on her phone, then slipped it into her purse.
“Sorry about that. I can’t believe how much goes into planning even a small wedding.”
Charlie thought about the few details she knew of her mother’s wedding. That would not be a small event. “No worries. I can imagine it’s a lot of details.” Charlie angled her body to give Presley her attention.
The other woman’s face lit up. “So many details, but honestly, it’s all of my favorite things combined: Beckett, planning a celebration, and organizing.”
Charlie laughed, delighted by her obvious enthusiasm. This was what a wedding should be, not a circus-like show for the masses to judge on social media.
The boat slowed as Jilly headed into the Smile Marina. As she parked, easing off the throttle, Presley leaned toward Charlie.
“You’re lucky Jilly’s pregnant. When she isn’t, she drives this thing like she works for the Indy 500.”
Jilly cut the engine and turned around, a smile on her wind-slapped skin and a mock glare in her gaze. “I heard that.”
Presley laughed. “It’s not a secret.”
The rapport between these two women was enviable and made Charlie think about her own friendship circle.
It was painfully small. Growing up without siblings and surrounded by a lot of adults, she was generally more comfortable watching from afar.
She’d made work friends and was invited to things, but she didn’t have the classic “I’ll bring the shovel” bestie she read about.
Before either woman could take care of the boat, someone was pulling it flush to the dock and tying the rope.
“Thanks, Anderson,” Jilly said, getting up from the driver’s seat. “Anderson, this is Charlie. Charlie, Anderson. I’d tell you what they do, but the truth is they do everything. Anderson is Smile’s go-to for more things than you can think of.”
Anderson, with their shoulder-length brown hair tucked behind their ears, offered a wide smile. “Nice to meet you, Charlie. Bernie’s niece, right?”
Little ripples of worry stopped her words in her throat. Did they know who she was? Had the story followed her to this tiny little place in the middle of nowhere?
Presley put a hand on her shoulder. “Smile is small and Bernie is beloved. Nobody’s business stays their own for long.”
Those ripples became soft waves crashing against her rib cage. “Oh.”
Anderson helped Jilly onto the dock and must have caught the look on Charlie’s face. They offered a hand to her. “Bernie was just excited to have you coming to visit, so he told a few of us.”
When Charlie made it onto the dock, far less gracefully than Jilly, she smiled at Anderson. “Thank you.”
They helped Presley next. She gave them a big hug. “We’re headed to the wedding venue.”
“Y’all need a ride?”
Was everyone this friendly? What did Bernie say to people? No one had mentioned her father, and when people knew, they always said something about him. It was one of the reasons she never told anyone.
“You okay?” Presley asked Charlie quietly.
Taking slow, deliberate breaths, Charlie nodded. She was fine. No one knew her; they knew Bernie, and they knew her by extension, not because of the incident.
“Fine. Thank you.”
“I’ve got my car,” Jilly said.
They waved goodbye to Anderson and walked toward the parking lot. Jilly’s car was a bright yellow Volkswagen that, if possible, perfectly suited her personality.
The ride to the venue was a whirlwind of information with both women telling Charlie about various spots in Smile.
Tourist Lane, Pete’s Place, Beckett’s Bikes, the southern tip was best for a quiet beach day, Mo’s General Store, the Brothers’ Pub, which was run by adult twins who’d had a falling-out and split their business down the middle.
Fascinating. What if one side had all the customers or the other ran out of beer?
Who paid for what? She’d had no idea that a small place like this would have such rich and layered stories.
Charlie found herself staring out the window with a smile on her face.
As Jillian drove through a quietly charming residential street lined with trees and one- and two-story cottage-style homes, she pointed to a particularly cute one with green siding. The white-framed windows matched the paint used for the porch. Beds of flowers added bursts of color.
“That’s our place. Levi and I bought it from my parents and they live in the basement when they aren’t traveling in their RV.”
“It’s adorable. I love the porch.”
Presley turned in her seat. “That was her father-in-law’s housewarming present to them. He’s a contractor.”
“What a lovely gift,” Charlie said. Thoughts whirled in her head to the point of making her dizzy.
The contrast between this town, these people, and her own life was startling.
She thought of herself as down-to-earth, and even though her mother had more diva-like tendencies (hotels were nothing less than five stars, she never did her own nails, and she insisted that one weekend a month at a yoga retreat kept her young), Vivi also lived simply.
Or at least in comparison to her life with Charlie’s dad.
But nothing like this. To Vivica Colter, simple was more along the lines of doing her own makeup for an awards show.
Jillian turned down another street where the homes began to spread out and the road got windier.
The trees stood tall, lush branches spread like open arms, interspersed with vibrant, bold-colored flowers.
At the top of the drive, a multilevel mansion with several balconies and a pitched roof sat at the edge of the bluffs overlooking the water.
It was stunning and reminded Charlie of her childhood home.
A sharp pang struck her chest, a reminder that she wasn’t here to make friends and get tongue-tied over Grayson.
“Can you imagine living somewhere like this? Or better yet, owning it but renting it out because you liked your home on another island better?” Presley asked as Jilly parked in the circular driveway.
“I can’t. I try to tell myself I’m not jealous of anyone who could have a house like this because the effort to clean it would end me,” Jilly said with a laugh, turning the car off.
As they got out, Charlie felt a stab of guilt.
She could have a house like this; she’d lived in one for the first nine years of her life.
When she turned thirty, she’d receive a stupidly large amount of money that had been put in trust for her that would let her buy any home she wanted.
Vivica currently lived in a house very much like this one, which everyone would see since that’s where the reality show was scheduled to be filmed.
These women had pulled her into their lives when they didn’t have to and, after just a couple of days, included her as if she were part of their circle.
Charlie didn’t have friends. She had acquaintances, colleagues, mentors.
How the hell had she made it to almost thirty without at least a small circle of girlfriends?
As if she’d known her forever, or maybe wanted to, Presley gripped her arm. “Let’s go see where I’m getting married.”
Jillian laughed and fell in step beside them as they headed up the steps to the wide porch. One of the enormous, intricately carved double doors swung open and they were greeted by a man in a suit, with perfectly slicked back hair and a genuine smile on his fifty-something face.
“Welcome back to Carlton Manor, Ms. Ayers. We’re all ready to walk you through your special day.”
As the door closed behind them, Charlie felt like she was intruding on something intimate that she didn’t have a right to be part of.
Yet, she couldn’t deny the longing in her chest to be exactly where she was, to experience this with Presley and Jillian.
She felt included in a way she hadn’t realized she was missing out on.
Too busy with other people’s problems to delve into your own.
The house was majestic with its high ceilings and windows overlooking the water.
Presley and Beckett would marry in front of the windows, which would be strung with twinkle lights in a room that could easily fit a hundred people.
“This way, if it rains, we won’t have to move indoors, but if it doesn’t, we’ll have the sunshine pouring in and the view of the water,” Presley said.
Jillian smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law, running a hand over her very softly rounded stomach. If Charlie hadn’t known she was pregnant, it wouldn’t be obvious.
“Presley likes to have backup plans for her backup plans.”
“We’ll have an outdoor area set up for the reception so guests can be in and out. It’s a few weeks off but the weather looks promising,” their host told them.
Charlie’s phone buzzed annoyingly in her pocket.
Her mother had been sending her TMZ links for the last couple of days.
The E.S.S., as she now referred to her evil stepsisters, had given an interview talking about how Charlie and Vivi were feuding and how it would break the late great Bryce Colter’s heart.
The fact that they’d even mention her father in an interview sickened her.
She knew her mother was spiraling. They might not see each other daily, but they texted frequently and Charlie grounded her mother in a way no one else, other than Bryce, had ever been able to.
Which could be exhausting. Hence the need for some space.
She didn’t have it in her to deal with the storm her mother had willingly stepped into.
“What do you think, Charlie?” Presley asked, her hands clasped to her chest. “Your clothes and shoes suggest you know quality and have style. You’re from LA, and like Great Falls, where I’m from, there are probably hundreds of elegant wedding venues.
But I think this one is comparable to anything we’d find in a big city, don’t you? ”
The fact that this sweet, obviously successful, and well-loved woman wanted her opinion twisted something in Charlie’s chest. This was what she’d always wanted: women to share her feelings with, ones who’d look to her for advice or just a shoulder to cry on.
Ones she could ask the same of. She wanted friends.
She’d thought, getting two sisters, that would be the first natural step.
Charlie couldn’t have been more wrong, even when she’d tried to give them the benefit of the doubt.
Here, in Smile, at a tiny little lodge she’d never heard of, she’d found what she hadn’t known she’d been craving.
In less than a week, she felt like she was part of something special, and it occurred to her as she stood there, looking at Jilly and Presley’s expectant expressions, that she wasn’t so different from her patients, from her mother, even from the evil stepsisters.
She just wanted somewhere to belong. Even if only for a little while.
“I think it’s perfect, Presley. It’s beautiful and elegant but also so inviting and warm. Very much like you.”
When Presley squealed and threw her arms around her, Charlie hugged her back, surprised by how good the simple contact felt.
She needed to figure out her life and a way back to it. But for now, for the first time in weeks, she was perfectly content with exactly where she stood.