Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ISLA
“Oh!” my mother gasps as I emerge from the small dressing room into the large, comfortable sitting area.
“It’s not too much?” I ask, looking down at the layers of fluffy white fabric.
“You look like a fairy princess!” Mom gushes.
“You look like a wedding cake,” my best friend Charlotte says dryly as she polishes off her glass of complimentary champagne.
I turn and look in the three-sided mirror, perched against one wall of the private fitting room at Couture Hélène, the chic New York City bridal shop my fiancé, Luke, had suggested. The dress is strapless, with a bodice encrusted with tiny white gems. The skirt is bolstered by layers and layers of chiffon. I’ve never worn anything this pretty in my life. I feel like I’m in a fairytale. I stare at my reflection and a tiny thrill runs through me.
I’m getting married.
It didn’t quite feel real until this moment, even though the sizeable diamond ring has been sitting on my finger for a couple of months now. I told Luke I didn’t need anything fancy, but he said nothing but the best for his future wife.
I don’t even want to think about how much the ring cost. I’m afraid I might lose it.
“What do you think, Grace?” I ask my twelve-year-old sister.
Grace looks up from her Sudoku puzzle and rubs her nose. “I agree with Aunt Char,” she says. Charlotte isn’t really her aunt, but Grace has called her that since she was two. Charlotte loves it.
I huff. “Well, I can’t walk down the aisle looking like a cake. I bake them, but I don’t want to dress like one.”
Grace grins and goes back to her puzzle.
I do all the baking at the Thorn and Rose, the bed and breakfast my family runs. Luke is from the Way and grew up in one of the huge mansions that line Magnolia Bay. He lives in the city and has a gorgeous apartment overlooking Central Park but he comes out a lot to visit me and I spend weekends with him when I can. He knows how important being near my family is to me—my parents are getting on in years and my mother suffers from osteoarthritis. I have to help them out as much as I can, and Luke understands that. One of the best parts of our relationship is how we allow for each other’s independence. Being a baker means strange hours, and he’s never once complained when I have to get up at four o’clock in the morning if a big party is coming to stay at the Thorn. And I don’t mind when he has last minute client dinners or works weekends. He’s responsible and dependable, just like me. I know he’ll always keep his promises.
Charlotte grabs another flute of champagne and wanders over to check the price tag.
“Holy fuck,” she says.
“That’s another dollar for the swear jar,” Grace says.
“You got me, kid,” Charlotte says, dropping the tag. Charlotte teaches kindergarten at Magnolia Bay Elementary—when she’s at school, she’s sweet as cherry pie, but on her own time, she tosses F bombs around like she’s in a David Mamet play. “Seriously, Isla, I could pay ten months’ rent with this dress. This plus the limo Luke rented to take us into the city…”
“He’s trying to get you to like him,” I say.
“I do like him,” Charlotte insists.
I give her a look.
“Okay I like him as much as it’s possible for me to like someone from the Way.”
Charlotte has never been subtle about her distaste of those who come from the wealthy side of Magnolia Bay. Rich kids from rich families who don’t understand what it’s like to have to work for a living, that’s what she always says. But Luke does work—he works for his family’s real estate business.
I grin at her. “Should I just go get something from the discount bin at Vintage Closet?”
“ Yes ,” she says, and I laugh. Luke’s mother would definitely not approve of that choice. Whenever I visit my future in-laws, I always feel this sense of being watched. Like Lucille Richards is waiting for me to screw up and prove how wrong I am for her son.
“Do you like this?” Charlotte asks, fluffing the chiffon. “That’s the only thing that matters.”
I turn this way and that. The skirt fluffs out, and I feel like I’m wearing a marshmallow. “Maybe something with a little less skirt.”
Charlotte winks. “Less skirt. Got it.” Then she heads over to one of the racks full of dresses to pick something else for me to try on.
I try to imagine walking down the aisle in two months. My stomach shivers with nerves. I’m excited to be married but I don’t like being the center of attention, and there are going to be hundreds of people at this wedding—Luke’s family is a big deal in New York real estate. I probably won’t know most of the people on the guest list.
I push the nerves away. I’ll get through it, and the point is, I’m marrying a good man. Marriage is something I’ve always wanted but there was a point where I was certain it would never be part of my future. After Marion Everton’s death, my entire life changed. Or broke, rather. I was pretty depressed after he up and vanished.
No , I think firmly. He needs to stay out of this moment. I’ve done such a good job of shutting him out of my thoughts completely. I’m not going back. I’m only looking forward.
Charlotte returns with a new dress and a glass of champagne. “Here,” she says, handing me both.
“Ooh, I like this,” I say, feeling the satin beneath my hand. I take a swig of champagne. “Okay, be right back.”
I hurry into the dressing room, place my flute on a little side table, and unzip the massive dress, slipping into the new one. It’s gorgeous—sleek white satin that hugs my figure. It’s backless, with long sleeves and almost no ornamentation. It’s effortlessly simple.
I think about the happy days ahead of me. I’ve always felt like Dependable Isla Davenport, ready to help Grace with her homework, or Mom with the baking, or old Mrs. Greerson with her gutters, or Dev Chadha with his cheese tastings if he needs an extra pair of hands. Luke sees that. With him, I can have both—a husband who loves me and the life that I value. Luke isn’t trying to make me choose. Even if it means we won’t always be together, physically. He’ll be in New York for his work, I’ll be in Magnolia Bay for mine. But we fit. Our lives flow in a way that works for both of us. We’ll have two homes instead of just one.
The door cracks open and Grace’s head pops in.
“Aunt Charlotte says I should come see if you need anything,” Grace says.
“I could use a DSS,” I say.
Grace is different from other kids in town—for one thing, she has an eidetic memory, and remembers everything she ever hears or sees. And I mean ever . Something I said two years ago is just as fresh and clear to her as if I said it yesterday. And she’s also very particular about being touched. She doesn’t like hugs. So we came up with something we call the Davenport Shoulder Squeeze. The DSS is a quick, two-beat pressure on the left shoulder. It’s our sister signal that we love each other.
Grace grins and walks over to give me a DSS.
“Thanks,” I say. Then I spread my arms out and do a little twirl. “What do you think?”
Her eyes go wide. “It’s very pretty.”
“Isn’t it?” I squeal. “I think it’s the one.”
I gaze at my reflection in the mirror then catch sight of Grace’s expression. She looks pensive, with a slight frown.
“What’s up?” I ask her.
“Are you happy to get married?” she asks.
“Yes!” I cry. “Oh, Grace, I’m really, really happy.”
She scratches her nose. “Am I going to have to wear a cake dress to the wedding?”
I laugh. “No, don’t worry about that. Me and you and Aunt Char can pick out your dress together to make sure it’s something you’re comfortable with. And it doesn’t have to be a dress either. You could wear a jumpsuit if you want.”
Grace’s eyes widen. “Cool,” she says.
“How’s everything going in here?” a trilling female voice says from the other side of the door. It’s Miranda, the associate assigned to help me. Luke’s mom was the one who set up this appointment—Lucille has been deeply involved in the wedding planning. She’s booked some fancy hotel with a rooftop in midtown for the ceremony and reception. I wish Luke and I could just get married at the Thorn. But that was out of the question.
“Great,” I call, then turn back to my reflection one more time. “I think I’ve found the one.”
Two hours later, the dress has been pinned and primed for a final fitting before the wedding and it’s time to head back to Magnolia Bay.
The limo Luke booked for us is comfortable, though I’d be happy just taking the train. I know I’m going to have to get used to the finer things in life. And don’t get me wrong, the finer things are fun—ever since we started dating eight months ago, Luke has taken me on trips to the Bahamas and Vail and Tuscany, places I would never have been able to visit myself. As we make the drive back to Magnolia Bay, Grace keeps fiddling with the various buttons on the limo’s console until Mom tells her to stop.
“That dress is perfect,” Mom says, massaging the knuckles on her left hand. I wonder if she’s having a flare.
“Isn’t it?” I say, practically vibrating on the sleek leather seat. It feels like everything is coming together in a way that I wouldn’t have thought possible a few years ago. I nudge my best friend. “So, who are you going to bring for your plus one?”
Charlotte pulls an exaggerated face. She’s dated over the years, but she’s never met a single man who was able to “keep up with her,” as she puts it. “Right, that. Hm. Hey, Grace?”
My sister turns to her.
“Wanna be my date to Isla’s wedding?”
Grace’s eyes light up. Even though there are seventeen years between us, Grace and I look very much alike. Same thick chestnut hair, same high cheekbones, same upturned nose. The only difference is her eyes are brown where mine are green.
Mom calls Grace her “December surprise.” They were certain they wouldn’t have any more kids after me, and then…surprise.
“Yes,” Grace says enthusiastically. “I didn’t know I was supposed to have a date.”
“You don’t,” I reassure her.
“But you’ll be doing me a solid,” Charlotte says with a wink. “Maria is so excited. Thanks for inviting so many people from town.”
Maria is Charlotte’s younger sister.
“Obviously,” I say. “I needed to have some people at my wedding that I actually know.”
Charlotte laughs at that.
My phone rings and it’s Luke. I put him on speaker.
“Hi,” I say eagerly.
“Hey beautiful,” he says. “How did the fitting go?”
“Great,” I say. “I’ve found the perfect dress.”
“I knew you would. Mom says Couture Hélène is the best. Hey, so I have some good news and some bad news.”
“Oh no,” I say. “Bad news first.”
“The rooftop fell through. Mom’s pissed, as you can imagine. But I know you’d rather get married in Magnolia Bay anyway,” Luke says. I can hear his smile and my spirits soar. We can get married at the Thorn! I glance at Mom and she looks excited too. “So I managed to convince her.”
“Luke!” I squeal. “Thank you, thank you! This means so much to me.”
“Anything for the queen of my castle,” Luke says. Charlotte barely resists rolling her eyes. “I spoke with Daisy Everton the other day and we’re all set.”
My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach and pulses there like some living stone.
It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the limo.
“You know how perfect Everton Estate is in the summer,” Luke is saying. “And it’s big enough for all the guests. Mom says…”
He keeps talking but his words have faded to a dull buzz. Am I friends with Daisy Everton? Yes. She’s so kind and sunny and she’s always helping out the town, just like her mother used to. Have I recommended Everton Estate to guests at the Thorn? Of course. It’s an amazing place despite its recently dark history—beautiful views, fantastic wines, and a gorgeous turn-of-the-century aesthetic.
But it’s also a reminder of the man who broke my heart. There’s a world of difference between appreciating Everton and getting married there.
Charlotte grabs my phone from me.
“Hey Luke, Charlotte here, uh, sorry we’re about to go through a tunnel, talk later, bye!”
She hangs up. Three pairs of eyes are staring at me with varying shades of concern.
Only four people know about me and Caden— really know about the depths of my feelings for him, and the fact that we were together, albeit for only a moment in time. And three of them are in this car right now. The fourth is Noah Patterson, Caden’s best friend.
Well, Grace doesn’t know all the gritty details, but there was no way I could hide my pain and sorrow from her. It was my dominant personality trait for about a year. And she remembers everything she hears, so one eavesdropped conversation with Charlotte and she was officially in the loop.
Luke knows Caden and I had a brief “thing”—that’s what I decided to call it. It was nothing, really. Just one night. And then he left. He doesn’t live in Magnolia Bay anymore. It didn’t seem relevant to tell Luke all the details. How I was in love with Caden for years. How broken I was after he left.
But my mom and Charlotte saw the shell I became. They saw the tears and the heartache.
“Maybe you can find someplace else,” Mom says gently. “We’d love to have the wedding at the Thorn. And there are other wineries…”
I shake my head. I know Lucille. If she’s decided Everton is a suitable replacement, nothing will sway her from that decision. Not unless the winery burned to the ground.
I have a fleeting vision of myself as an arsonist.
But then I think of how pretty the estate will be in late August. And how I’ve known it my whole life—it’s certainly a more me locale than some fancy pants rooftop in Manhattan.
“It’s fine,” I say slowly. “It’s totally fine.” I’m getting over the initial shock now. Charlotte looks at me doubtfully and I smile at her, delighted to find it feels almost natural. “I’m getting married to an amazing man. And I get to be married in Magnolia Bay! That’s a win in my book. Plus, Everton is gorgeous. It’s a great spot for a wedding.”
My mother beams, though Charlotte doesn’t look convinced.
“I think it’s good too,” Grace declares.
“You do?” I ask, surprised.
She nods. “It’s just a place. You’ve been scared of it, but it’s just a place.”
She’s right. And anyway, it’s not like he is going to be there. He doesn’t live here anymore. Maybe this will be healing. Maybe this is the last step for me to let him go completely.
I breathe in deep through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I need to bake. I always bake when I’m anxious. Or excited. I bake no matter what I’m feeling, to be honest. But I feel the sudden need to make something incredibly complex. Baked Alaska. Canelés de Bordeaux. I go through the recipes in my head until we reach the Thorn. It calms me.
Grace is right. It’s just a place. And I’m stronger than I was.