She peered out the window at the white structure by the water, decorated with fresh flowers in shades of cream and pale blue. A small arbor overlooked the gentle waves of the gulf, the early evening sun painting everything in a golden glow.
“I still can’t believe this moment is finally here,” she said softly, more to herself than to Darlene. “After all these years.”
“You look just lovely,” Darlene said, adjusting the collar of Eleanor’s suit.
She smiled, grateful for her old friend’s presence. She and Darlene had shared so many of life’s moments together—both joyful and painful. She was pleased they could share this one too.
“I’m glad we kept the actual ceremony small,” she said, watching as a few guests made their way to the white chairs arranged on the gazebo. “Though I’m half afraid the whole town will be at the reception afterward at my house.”
“Of course they will,” Darlene laughed. “You’re Eleanor Whitmore Griffin. Soon to be Eleanor Whitmore Burton. People respect you.”
She caught Darlene’s eyes in the reflection of the small mirror on the wall. “They rather fear me, you mean.” She gave her friend a small smile.
“Perhaps a bit of both,” Darlene conceded. “But they love you too. You’ve spent your whole life caring for this town, even if you did it with a stern look.”
She turned away from the window, surveying the simple room where she’d chosen to prepare herself. No elaborate bridal suite or fuss—just a quiet moment to collect her thoughts before stepping into this new chapter.
“I spent too many years worried about what other people would think,” she admitted. “Too many years letting that dictate my choices.”
“It’s never too late to change, is it?”
She nodded, thinking of Vera and the secret life she’d lived with her prince. Her great-aunt had chosen love over duty, happiness over expectations. Eleanor was finally doing the same.
A knock sounded at the door, and her heart quickened. The door opened, and there stood Cliff, handsome in his dark suit, a small boutonniere in his lapel.
“Mother, you look beautiful.”
“Why, thank you, Cliff.”
“Are you ready?”
She felt a rush of emotion seeing her son standing there. Their relationship had transformed in recent months. The hurricane had done more than damage buildings—it had swept away years of misunderstanding between them, revealing the foundation of love that had always existed beneath.
“I’ve been ready for this day for what seems my whole life.” Her voice sounded steady despite the flutter in her chest.
She crossed the room and took Cliff’s offered arm, feeling the solid strength of him beside her. As they stepped outside, the early evening breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean, mingling with the fragrance of the flowers adorning the wedding site.
The small gathering of their closest friends turned to watch as she and Cliff began their walk toward the gazebo where Jonah waited.
She focused on Jonah standing beneath the arbor, his face lighting up as he saw her. The years melted away, and suddenly, she was a young woman again, watching the handsome boy she’d first met, too shy to speak to him directly, too proper to acknowledge her feelings.
How different things might have been if she’d been braver then. If she hadn’t let her parents’ expectations and her own fear guide her choices. But there was no use dwelling on what might have been. Today was about what could be—what would be.
As they approached the gazebo, she squeezed Cliff’s arm. “Thank you,” she whispered, the words carrying more than just gratitude for escorting her down the aisle.
“I’m proud of you, Mother,” her son replied softly. “For following your heart.”
The simple words nearly brought tears to her eyes. For her son to speak of pride—the son she’d been so quick to criticize, so slow to understand—meant everything.
They reached the steps of the gazebo, and her gaze locked with Jonah’s. His eyes, as blue as the gulf waters behind him, crinkled at the corners with his smile. He extended his hand to her as Cliff guided her up the steps.
“You look beautiful, Ellie,” he said as she took her place beside him.
Her heart beat steadily as she faced Jonah, his warm hands holding hers. The gulf breeze ruffled her carefully styled hair, but she no longer cared about perfection. The small gathering of their closest friends and family faded into the background as she focused on Jonah’s face—the face she’d known for so many years, yet was seeing anew.
The minister’s voice washed over them as he spoke of commitment and love in the autumn years of life. When it came time for their vows, she felt no nervousness, only a surprising calm.
“I, Eleanor, take you, Jonah, to be my husband.” The words felt right on her lips, as though she’d been meant to say them all along. “To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”
