Chapter 1
The Okaloosa County Clerk of Court was not exactly the setting for a fairytale wedding like the one they’d seen that seventeenth summer. The words from Vivien’s Destin diary echoed in Kate’s head when she looked around the room where Tessa and Dusty would exchange their wedding vows.
Vivien had been so excited that she’d stumbled onto the “wedding entry” in her stash of teen diaries, she’d actually brought the notebook along today and insisted Kate read it as Vivien drove to the courthouse.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead with all the romance of a dentist’s office, the carpet was the shade of gray that Kate had seen in too many Cornell hallways, and somewhere down the hall, a copy machine was grinding through what sounded like a very long document.
But when the officiant—a kind-faced woman in a navy blazer who’d introduced herself as Judge Patricia Clement—said, “By the power vested in me by the State of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Kate Wylie forgot all that.
Her dear twin sister was finally married…at fifty years old.
Tessa—wild, fearless, fun-loving, and chronically unpredictable Tessa—stood in the small ceremony room in a white sundress and sandals and gazed into the eyes of Dusty Mathers with an expression Kate had never seen on her sister’s face.
She looked…at peace.
Dusty held Olive on one hip, reminding them all that this sweet toddler was the reason for this “quickie” wedding.
They planned to adopt the two-year-old little angel from a young mother who had lost her husband and parents not two days after Olive was born.
In a struggle with what Kate assumed was depression or maybe addiction—Dusty was her therapist and couldn’t share—Olive’s mother made the decision to give up her child for adoption.
Her only stipulation was that Olive be adopted by a married couple.
And as of a minute ago, they became exactly that.
Olive had spent the brief ceremony gnawing on the ear of a stuffed manatee with intense focus, occasionally taking a break to drop her flaxen curls on Dusty’s strong shoulder, nuzzling his salt-and-pepper beard and reaching up to grab his glasses.
He didn’t seem at all fazed, just elated.
After the pronouncement of marriage, he shifted Olive with ease to take Tessa’s face in his free hand and kiss her with confidence and love.
Their soon-to-be daughter let out a squeal that might have been delight or might have been a protest about the interruption to her manatee chewing, and the small room filled with laughter.
Kate pressed her fingers under her glasses to catch the tears before they fell. Beside her, Vivien was openly crying, clutching a tissue she’d had the foresight to bring.
Five people and a toddler in a government building on a Friday morning.
That was Tessa’s wedding. No lace streamers, no flower-decked arch, no long white gown.
Just a couple who’d found each other and let a two-year-old be the catalyst that put their budding romance into warp speed and a tender exchange of vows.
It wasn’t at all what Tessa had expected in life—but was anything conventional where Kate’s twin sister was concerned?
No, and that was why they joked about being “opposite twins”—Kate was pragmatic, logical, and driven by facts and science. But Tessa? Impulsive, high-spirited, wildly illogical, and driven by her emotions.
Not for the first time since they emerged from the womb, Kate envied that…freedom. What would it be like to throw caution to the wind, make a spontaneous decision to marry, and wear a look of sheer joy and anticipation of whatever was ahead?
Taking Olive from her husband’s arms, Tessa flipped some long blond hair over her shoulder in a quintessential Tessa gesture—graceful, gorgeous, and, yeah, a tad dramatic.
“Well?” She grinned, her eyes glassy. “Am I really married?”
“You’re really married.” Kate pulled her into a hug, careful not to squish Olive, who responded by pressing a damp manatee ear against Kate’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Tess.”
After a lifetime of restlessness, after twenty-five years of carrying the secret that she’d had a baby and given him up for adoption, after decades of losers who only cared about her looks, Tessa had found her forever.
She found that baby she gave up, too. Roman was a grown man, in love with Vivien’s daughter, and very much part of Tessa’s world.
And as only Tessa could ice her cake of life, she’d reconnected with the quintessential “bad boy” they’d known from their summers in Destin and fallen in love. Tessa and Dusty had bought a two-family beach house together and lived separately, the only way they could afford the waterfront property.
But that older Miramar Beach house would be reconfigured into a one-family home, complete with the little girl who’d landed in their laps.
Little Olive Oyl, as Tessa called her, would soon be family when she became Tessa and Dusty’s daughter in every way that mattered. No one deserved this happiness more than Tessa Wylie.
“Wait.” Kate drew back at the thought. “Are you changing your name?”
“I’d like to be Mrs. Mathers,” Tessa admitted. “But my company is Tessa Wylie Events, so…maybe I’ll just use both.”
“Mrs. Mathers!” Vivien cooed. “I’m going to cry again.”
“You never stopped,” Kate teased.
“Can I help it that I’m emotional?” Vivien pulled back and cupped Tessa’s face. “You are radiant. Truly.”
Dusty shook the judge’s hand and signed the marriage license.
He certainly wasn’t the Dustin Mathers she’d seen drunk on the beach as a teenager. Life had changed him and, in his fifties, Dusty was a steady rock who listened more than he talked, with the quiet competence of a therapist who specialized in helping grieving people cope with loss.
He was so good for Tessa.
He handed the pen to his bride with a slight bow of formality, and she signed her name with a flourish that made them both laugh. Watching it, Kate felt something loosen in her chest.
How had this happened? For the first time in their lives, Tessa was on steady ground, and Kate was in…freefall.
The thought came and went like a cloud across the sun, and Kate pushed it aside. Today was not about her.
They took pictures in front of the courthouse with much laughter and positioning in the sunshine. There was one that Kate knew would end up framed—Tessa and Dusty and Olive, the toddler reaching for Tessa’s face with both hands, all three of them laughing. A brand-new family.
“Dusting!” Olive tugged Dusty’s hand when her little feet hit the ground. “Ice cweam!”
“That’s right,” he said. “This young lady was promised ice cream, and I am not a man who breaks promises to a two-year-old.”
Tessa and Dusty each took one of Olive’s hands and gave her a swing in the air as she squealed with pure delight.
“Go,” Vivien said, shooing them. “Enjoy. Take a thousand more pictures. We’ll see you later at the Summer House for a family celebration.”
Kate watched them walk to Dusty’s truck, a bounce in all their steps. When Tessa turned and caught Kate’s eye, she mouthed I love you. Kate blew her a kiss and held it together until the truck pulled out.
Then she took off her glasses and wiped another tear.
“Oh, honey.” Vivien put a hand on her back. “You okay?”
“Of course!” Kate put her glasses back on and blinked the courthouse parking lot into focus. “Just, you know. My sister got married in a government building and I’m standing in a parking lot crying about it. Totally normal day.”
Vivien laughed softly. “I think what we need is coffee and a debrief. You got in so late last night, there was no time to talk. Unless you’re anxious to get back to Eli. My brother has been waiting not-so-patiently for your return from Ithaca.”
Kate was longing to see him, but she needed some Vivien time, too.
“Yes.” She exhaled. “Coffee. Please.”
The café was bright and airy, with white subway tile and succulents on every surface.
A chalkboard menu offered an array of caffeine-related concoctions, but Kate, being Kate, ordered it plain and black.
She’d flown from Ithaca by way of a delay in Charlotte, all on four hours of sleep with an emotional teenager in tow.
She needed straight, unadulterated caffeine, although Vivien’s lavender latte smelled as comforting as their long-standing friendship.
They sat outside at a small iron table under a striped awning.
The morning heat was asserting itself. After all, it was the first week of August in the Florida Panhandle, which meant the air had the consistency of warm soup.
That alone was an adjustment after a few weeks in upstate New York, where it rarely got this hot or humid.
While they settled in, Kate asked about everyone at the Summer House. She and her daughter, Emma, had taken an Uber from the airport and arrived late last night, determined to make it to town for Tessa’s civil ceremony.
Their conversation drifted over each family member—two families, one house, lots of stories—but they spent most of the time talking about Kate’s mother, Jo Ellen.
“She’s made up her mind,” Kate said, smiling at the thought that somehow didn’t surprise her. “She and Maggie are not leaving that apartment above the Summer House garage. Ever. And I’m overjoyed.”
“It’s good for her to be here with her dearest friend. Good for my mom, too,” Vivien said. “Although I have to say the indomitable spirit of Maggie Lawson seems to mellow more with each month she spends at the beach. Credit to your mom and what Eli calls the magic of Destin.”
Kate nodded, fully in agreement that both of the nearly eighty-year-olds seemed happier here. “It’s coming on a year since my dad died,” Kate said. “And my mom needs to be done sitting around her house in Ithaca and wallowing in grief.”
“What will you do with that house?” Vivien asked.
“Put it on the market, I guess. With a massive garage sale.”
“Sounds daunting.”
Kate shrugged. “The kids’ll help me.”