Chapter Seventeen
The Gables was quiet when Lydia woke, the soft Sunday light filtering through the curtains in a pale wash. For a moment she lay still, listening to the hush of the house — a peaceful, lived-in hush she hadn’t known in years. Last night’s laughter still seemed to cling to the walls.
She slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in her dressing gown, and padded downstairs. The kitchen bore the faint evidence of the housewarming: a few glasses by the sink, a stray napkin on the counter, the lingering scent of vanilla candles and warm bread. Lydia smiled as she filled the kettle.
Tea in hand, she sat at the small table by the window and opened her notebook to the page marked Brookleigh Bay Carnival — Planning.
Today she would meet with Mark and the early volunteers after the service.
She had lists ready, colour-coded and neatly tabbed.
Mark teased her for it, but she’d seen the fondness in his eyes.
She glanced at the clock. Time to get ready.
Upstairs, she chose a soft navy dress and pinned her hair back. As she fastened her necklace, she caught her reflection in the mirror — a woman who looked… settled. Hopeful. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but it had.
She walked toward Brookleigh Bay Community Church, the sea breeze cool against her cheeks.
The familiar stone building stood warm and welcoming at the end of the lane, its doors open, the sound of easy chatter drifting out.
Through the entrance, she could hear families finding seats.
At the front of the church, the projector displayed the morning notice:
All-Age Family Service — children remain in the main hall.
Mark was at the front, adjusting the microphone and straightening the lectern — fussing, as always. Lorna sat toward the middle, smiling at him with patient amusement.
Lydia slipped into the seat beside her.
“You look tired,” Lorna whispered.
“Happy tired,” Lydia murmured.
The service began. Hymns rose, prayers followed, and Lydia felt herself relax into the familiar rhythm of worship.
She spotted the Parker children a few rows ahead with Sam and Jean — Ollie swinging his legs, Jake leaning sleepily against Jean’s arm, Mia and Sophie sitting neatly side by side.
Ethan looked alert, attentive, almost proud to be there.
William, she knew, was at home resting before his night shift.
After the final hymn, Mark stepped forward. “If anyone would like to help with preparations for the Brookleigh Bay Carnival,” he said, “I’ll be in the side room after the service. No pressure at all — just come and chat if you’re interested.”
A measured, unobtrusive invitation. Exactly as Lydia expected.
The blessing was given, and the congregation began to rise, chairs scraping softly as people moved into the aisle.
Lydia stayed with Lorna, waiting for Mark to finish speaking to a few parishioners.
As she watched, she noticed Ethan approach him, hands tucked into his pockets.
Sam and Jean followed at a slower pace, exchanging a look that was half amused, half resigned.
Lydia couldn’t hear the conversation, but she saw Mark smile, nod, and jot something down on his clipboard. Interesting. When the crowd thinned, Mark joined Lydia and Lorna.
“Good service,” Lydia said.
“Good congregation,” Mark replied, tapping his clipboard. “And good volunteers.”
Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”
Mark’s mouth twitched. “A few. The Parkers.”
Lydia blinked. “Really?”
“Ethan came over after the service,” Mark said. “He said he, Sam and Jean would be happy to help with decorations and children’s games. They think the rest of the family will join them, but they’re going to check with William first.”
Lorna nodded.
“Sam and Jean didn’t look surprised,” she said. “So I imagine it’s all been talked about.”
A flutter rose in Lydia’s chest — surprise, delight, and something softer she didn’t want to name.
“That’s lovely,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I didn’t expect them to get involved so soon.”
Still, she hoped the girls wouldn’t feel obliged to join in.
“Come on,” Mark said, gesturing toward the hall. “Let’s get the planning meeting started.”
Lorna rose, accepting his offered arm with an amused smile. Lydia fell into step beside them as they walked toward the hall. Beyond the windows, the morning sun shone brightly, and for the first time in a long while, she felt the quiet, steady warmth of belonging.