Chapter 22 - Lila
LILA
On the October evening of our engagement party, autumn had come to Willet Cove, painting our little part of the world in oranges, reds, and bright yellows.
We all agreed we’d never had a prettier fall.
But, for me, everything glistened and gleamed, regardless of the weather.
I was head over heels in love with Vance and our children.
Life was sweeter than it had ever been. And I had my meddlesome daughter’s rash decision to put my profile on Second Chance to thank for it all.
Which she was never going to let me forget.
We’d decided to marry the day after Christmas.
It would be a small wedding—just our close friends and family.
But tonight, we were celebrating our engagement in combination with a housewarming party.
The move-in had been so rushed that we hadn’t yet had our friends over, so we thought combining both would be fun.
With guests arriving soon, I hurried to finish getting ready.
Mia and Margot were helping me into my dress.
I’d splurged on a new outfit—a silk rose-blush midi dress with delicate straps and a gentle drape.
Mia had suggested pairing it with gold heels, a dainty necklace, and my hair in loose waves—all of which I agreed to.
Mia, surprisingly enough, was excited to dress up and had picked a pale blue dress with a belt around the middle and an A-line skirt.
She looked like something out of a 1950s fashion magazine.
Margot had chosen a knee-length chiffon in soft lavender with a sash and ruffled sleeves. They both looked adorable.
Downstairs, the house was aflutter with activity. Vance had insisted we hire a party planner so that I didn’t have to worry about anything. “This is a special night. I don’t want you worried about a thing.”
Thus, we had a caterer who had spent the afternoon preparing all kinds of heavy appetizers that would be passed out to guests, along with specially chosen wines from Vance’s cellar. He and the caterer had worked together to pair the perfect wine with each appetizer.
Not long after we’d moved into Vance’s house, I’d landed several new clients.
Dorian Flynn had come for dinner and been so impressed with what I’d done with his best friend’s house that he’d asked me to tackle his.
He, too, had inherited a house from his late mother—a farmhouse with a wraparound porch, nestled at the edge of town beneath the shade of towering oaks.
Inside, the hardwood floors were scuffed, the wainscoting yellowed, and the furniture mismatched.
The rooms were modest in size, separated by narrow doorways rather than open spaces.
The living room centered around a broad stone fireplace that hadn’t been lit in years.
The kitchen was small and utilitarian, with white enamel cabinets, a porcelain sink beneath a single window, and linoleum floors dulled by years of wear.
Upstairs, the bedrooms were compact, each with a sloped ceiling and a single window framed by thin curtains.
The closets were shallow, and the bathroom was lined with beadboard wainscoting and featured a clawfoot tub—the porcelain chipped in places but still elegant.
I couldn’t wait to get my hands on all of it.
But tonight was about fun and spending time with my friends.
They were all so delighted for me. Even Delphine had acquiesced that some men were as good as they seemed.
We’d all been busy the last few months with school starting, sports, and Grace starring in the fall play, but we always found time for our Sunday dinners.
The girls and I hurried downstairs as the doorbell rang. Our first guests were Esme and Grady, along with Robbie and Madison.
“Welcome to our home,” I said, hugging each of them in turn. “I didn’t realize you were coming together.”
I couldn’t help myself—these two were kidding themselves if they thought they weren’t headed to the love shack instead of the surf shack. Gillian and I had conspired behind their backs, trying to figure out a way to get one of them to admit their true feelings. So far, we hadn’t succeeded.
“Oh, well, Grady offered to drive so I could have as much wine as I wanted,” Esme said. “It’s been kind of a long week.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Just stuff with the ex,” Esme said under her breath so the kids couldn’t hear. But she needn’t have bothered.
Margot and Madison had already bolted upstairs to her bedroom. Mia had offered to show Robbie the house, and they’d wandered off together, Robbie sharing facts about this era of home.
Vance came out of the kitchen to greet Esme and Grady, then took them into the dining room to serve the first appetizer and wine.
Alex and Gillian arrived next. She wore a sweater dress, showing off her modest baby bump. The kids were right behind them. I directed Bella, Peter, and Grace toward the living room. “Mia and Robbie are that direction.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked Gillian.
“So much better now that I’m in the second trimester,” she said. “And we found out the sex of the baby yesterday.”
“A girl?” I asked.
Gillian shook her head. “No, it’s a boy. I don’t know why I thought it would be a girl.”
Alex grinned. “Peter’s thrilled we’ll no longer be outnumbered.”
“I’m so excited to meet him,” I said as I took them into the dining room. “Your first stop for the evening is various cheeses paired with several different wines. Courtesy of my fiancé. And, of course, Gillian, some great wine alternatives for you, if you so choose.”
Our rustic farmhouse table—the one Vance and I had chosen together because it could seat fourteen comfortably—was covered in a crisp white cloth.
In the center, Vance had created a stunning display: a tiered presentation of wine glasses in varying heights—reds, whites, and rosés catching the light from the brass lantern pendant overhead.
Bottles were strategically placed among the glasses, labels facing out: a Sonoma Coast Chardonnay, a Russian River Pinot Noir, and a Provencal rosé.
Around the base, he’d arranged wooden boards piled with artisan cheeses—creamy triple-crème Brie, aged manchego with its nutty sweetness, tangy Point Reyes blue, and sharp white cheddar from a local creamery.
Thin-sliced salami and prosciutto were folded in delicate roses.
Fresh grapes in jewel tones—deep purple and pale green—cascaded between the cheeses.
Crackers were fanned in perfect geometric patterns, and small bowls of honey, fig jam, and Marcona almonds dotted the spaces between.
Votives flickered among the elements, making everything glow.
“Gillian, I made sure to have hard cheeses too,” Vance said. “The manchego and cheddar are both safe for you.”
“That was so thoughtful. Thank you,” she said.
I heard the doorbell ring again and went to answer it, leaving Gillian and Alex with Vance.
Delphine and Seraphina, along with Annie and Tyler, had driven over together.
The kids said a quick hello and then ran off to find the others.
The caterer had macaroni and cheese plus sliders for the kids in the kitchen.
I figured Mia would tell them about the food once she’d shown everyone the house.
“I cannot believe we haven’t been here yet,” Seraphina said, wrapping me in a hug.
“I wanted everything to be perfect,” I said.
“It’s stunning,” Delphine said, shrugging out of her overcoat and peering behind me.
“I’ll give you the tour later, but first you have to start with the first pairing of wine and cheese.” I escorted them into the dining room.
The doorbell rang again. This time it was Irene, beaming. “Darling, happy engagement party.”
We hugged. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She glanced behind her. “I brought someone with me. I hope that’s okay.”
A man around Irene’s age, silver-haired and dressed in an elegant suit, came up the steps carrying a houseplant.
“I’m Robert Evans,” he said, extending a gloved hand. Twinkly blue eyes met mine behind a pair of black glasses. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a 1950s movie.
“Welcome, both of you.” I ushered them out of the chilly night and into the house. “Do you live in the same community as Irene?” I asked, taking his coat.
“Yes, we’re neighbors,” Irene said. “We’ve been spending time together. Golfing and walking.”
Irene and Robert exchanged a glance, and I had a feeling they were doing more than golfing and walking.
“Come see what your son’s put together,” I said.
I led them into the dining room, where Vance was at the cheese table, explaining the pinot noir pairing to Alex and Gillian.
“Hey, Mom.” Vance’s face lit up. He crossed the room to hug Irene before turning his attention to Robert. “You brought a friend?”
“Yes, this is Robert,” Irene said.
“Nice to meet you.” Vance looked him up and down but managed a friendly smile. “Are you a wine guy?”
“I am indeed,” Robert said. “I lived in France in my twenties.”
“No way?” Vance said. “Where?”
The doorbell rang before I could hear his answer. It was Dorian, carrying a wrapped package and looking his usual buttoned-down self in a light blue shirt and dark jacket.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Had to close up.”
“You’re right on time. Come in.”
He handed me the package. “For the house. Just something small.”
“That’s sweet, even though I said no gifts.”
“Yes, but my mother taught me never to show up empty-handed.” A shadow crossed his face at the mention of her.
“You must miss her.”
“Every day. I’ve finally stopped picking up my phone to text her, though.”
“Oh, Dorian, that’s so hard.”
“Saying goodbye to those we love is part of life, I guess. But yes, it’s hard.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Starved.”
I led him into the dining room, where everyone was gathering. Delphine stood by the window chatting with Gillian. I glanced up at Dorian, surprised to see his gaze resting for a moment on her face.