Chapter 9
That night, splayed on her bed with the Frenchie named Pierre at the end of her feet, Wren edited the photographs she’d taken of Bluebell Cove’s coastline and sent them off to her prospective editor.
After that, she lay back, tapping her belly until Pierre came up and lay on her stomach.
She gazed into his eyes, her heart opening at the tenderness she saw there.
“Hi, buddy,” she whispered. “I’m going to take care of you till your owners are found. ”
Pierre looked thrilled to see her. She stroked his head and rubbed behind his ears and felt a sense of wonder.
All her life, she’d been focused on traveling, on running as fast as she could from commitment.
She’d thought of people who had pets as irresponsible or silly, since the pets kept them grounded in one place.
But the love that spilled out of this little animal told her something else.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” Wren called.
Lily opened the door. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “You got a dog?”
Wren pulled herself up and smiled nervously. She hadn’t yet told Ivy about Pierre. “I found him. He was injured, so I took him to the vet, and we’re waiting to hear from his owners.”
Lily came over and sat at the edge of the bed to give Pierre the attention he deserved. Pierre took to her right away. “He’s so sweet,” Lily breathed. “Mom never let us get a dog growing up, but I always wanted to.”
“I never wanted a dog,” Wren said, laughing.
“But he found you nonetheless,” Lily said. “I came up to tell you dinner’s ready, if you want any. I made it. Chicken tacos with guacamole. Elliott and Mom are eating out somewhere, but Tyler and Sophie are downstairs. Bring the dog!”
Wren padded downstairs, keeping an eye on Pierre as he greeted everyone happily.
Her nieces and nephew fell in love with him instantly, and when Celia came over to say hello, she dropped to her knees and let Pierre kiss her right on the mouth.
“What is Ivy going to say about this?” Celia cooed nervously.
“I’ll tell her,” Wren said. “She can’t turn him out on the street, though, right?”
Celia nodded. “Right.”
But Lily and Tyler looked nervous. “She likes to have control,” Lily said.
“She’s getting a little better about that,” Sophie offered.
“It’s a process,” Celia agreed.
Wren shrugged. It seemed that the Harpers were always processing something. But the thing was, Pierre needed them right now. She refused to take him to the humane society.
Ivy and Elliott came in a few minutes later, laughing about something. Immediately, Elliott laughed uproariously at the sight of Wren with the dog on her lap. “Who’s this?”
“That’s Pierre,” Lily said.
Ivy pressed her lips together, regarding the dog.
Wren prepared her argument to fight for the dog.
But before Ivy could say anything, nausea overtook her.
Wren took the dog from her lap and hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind her right before she threw up.
She tried to be as discreet as possible.
But she knew that running away from Ivy at that moment did not look good.
At best, Ivy thought she was avoiding the discussion.
At worst, Ivy thought her Graves’ disease wasn’t under control, and Wren wasn’t taking care of herself.
As Wren cleaned up her face and looked in the mirror, her phone buzzed with an email from her new editor.
It read: Wren! These are incredible. We’re in love with your work.
We’ll send the funds ASAP, but we’d like to hire you for another round of pictures, if you have the time for that.
We’re thinking more small-town Maine vibes.
Think bed-and-breakfasts, quaint diners, beautiful verandas overlooking the Atlantic…
and so on. We know you’re from Maine, so we’re confident that you can build a perfect portrait of what it’s like to be there.
Let us know if that works for you. Thanks again!
Wren’s heart skipped a beat. More work! It meant she could save a little more money before she took off to wherever she decided on.
Brazil? Argentina? The world would be hers, just as soon as these money transfers went into her account.
All she had to do was photograph Bluebell Cove—the Eco-Lodge, the Victorian houses, maybe Theo’s restaurant, maybe Ivy’s flower shop.
The photographs would basically take themselves.
When she returned to the living room, she found Ivy on the floor beside Celia, playing with Pierre and laughing. The sight was so strange and so nourishing that it brought tears to her eyes.
“The kids explained everything,” Ivy said, eyeing Wren. “He can stay for a little while.”
“He can’t fend for himself out there!” Celia cooed.
Just like that, Pierre became a temporary member of the family. Wren was overjoyed.
Over the next few days, Wren closely monitored Pierre’s health.
She kept tabs on his wounds and broken paw and wrote Ben, the veterinarian, with updates.
Via text and phone calls, Ben told her that it seemed Pierre was healing well.
“But I can look at him again when I come for the family party,” he said, his voice scratchy and familiar in a way that made Wren’s heart turn to butter.
The family party was set for Sunday. When Wren padded downstairs with Pierre hot on her heels, she found Ivy, Elliott, Juliet, and Theo already setting up on the back veranda, heating the grill, making hummus, slicing cheese into cubes, and preparing slabs of watermelon.
Bruce Springsteen played on the speakers, yet another one of her father’s favorites.
She half expected James Harper to come out the back door with a mug of coffee.
“Morning!” Theo said brightly.
Wren laughed. “It’s almost noon, I guess.” She’d been sick all morning, hiding herself away. The truth was, she still didn’t feel well, but she’d scrutinized herself in the mirror and decided she could be around humans. She hoped it would hold.
Pierre padded around, saying hello to everyone. Wren set to work, slicing onions and peppers and chatting with Juliet about the chaotic evening she and Theo had had at the restaurant last night.
“We might need to hire another person,” Juliet said, her eyes flashing to Theo. “We’re trying to keep up, but we just can’t. We had to kick the last table out at two in the morning!”
Theo grinned from the grill, where the charcoal was finally hot enough to start preparing the first round of burgers. “A chef’s life is never done,” he said. “Not so long as people are hungry!”
Wren smiled. She let herself fall into a sense of comfort that she hadn’t felt in years.
It surprised her. Moments later, Lily, Tyler, Celia, Sophie, and Danica arrived.
Danica had made homemade lemonade, which she poured for everyone, passing out glasses.
She was still in a sort of angsty teenage phase, her eyes dark with charcoal, but she smiled warmly at everyone.
Wren knew that she’d come a long way since last summer.
“Landon’s on his way,” Celia announced. “He’s bringing his brother.”
“That’s the vet I took Pierre to,” Wren piped in.
“Oh! What a funny coincidence,” Celia said.
“He’s very good,” Sophie said.
Celia nodded. “Very tender with animals. I know Landon thinks it’s good he came back. He’s been through a lot.”
Wren felt a spike of curiosity. “What happened to him?”
But at that moment, Landon and Ben came in, carrying bottles of wine and platters of fruits and veggies.
Landon kissed Celia and said hello to everyone, his cheeks shining.
There was an air of chaos around him, as though he were nervous.
Ben looked nervous, too, but he wore it differently.
He was more reserved. He bent down to check on Pierre, rubbing at his ears, then met Wren’s eyes when he said, “It looks like he’s got someone watching over him. ”
“He’s healing pretty well, I think,” Wren said.
“That’s right,” Ben agreed. “He’ll be right as rain soon.”
Wren smiled wider. It was strange, but a small part of her brain had imagined what it might be like to see Ben again at the party. She’d imagined him grabbing a seat beside her. She’d imagined trying not to touch his leg with hers under the table.
And then, another swell of nausea came over her, and she scrambled off the veranda and back to the bathroom. Again, she prayed that Ivy, Celia, and Juliet hadn’t noticed.
When Wren returned to the veranda, she had her excuses ready. But just as soon as she opened the screen door, Landon said, “I can’t wait a second longer.”
Everyone turned to look as Landon dropped to one knee and reached for Celia’s hand. Celia’s jaw dropped with surprise. All the Harpers were quiet, waiting.
“Celia, the past few years have been some of the best of my life,” he said. “You’ve shown me a tenderness and beauty in life that I never thought I’d have. So I guess I have to ask you a question?”
Wren’s cheeks ached from smiling too much. Ivy had both of her hands over her mouth, while Juliet looked stoic and misty-eyed. Directly beside her, Celia’s daughter, Sophie, looked like she was going to start jumping up and down.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the world?” Landon asked. “Will you marry me?”
Celia didn’t hesitate. “Yes! Yes, I will!” She threw her arms around him and let her twirl her around and around. Everyone on the veranda laughed and shouted with joy.
“A toast!” Ivy called. “We need to make a toast!”
Juliet hurried away to fetch some champagne, which she filled into little flutes.
Those who weren’t allowed or didn’t want to drink used their glasses of lemonade.
Wren stuck with lemonade since her stomach was sloshing violently.
But she raised her glass and said, “To Celia and Landon!” along with everyone else.
Ben looked thrilled for his brother. Wren realized that Landon had asked Ben to come to the family party for moral support, which was sweet. Even people who were wonderfully and deeply in love had anxieties about such a big question.
After their toast, Wren made her way over to her eldest sister. She hugged her, squeezing her eyes shut. Behind them, she hated that she saw Angelos, smiling at her from the darkness in her eyelids. “I love you, Celia,” Wren whispered. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”