Fiona turned the knob, thrust forward, and immediately found herself wedged into the opening.
Marisol jumped and turned toward the sound with a gasp.
Fiona heaved her body forward again. She was squeezed as narrow as the Flat Stanley character she remembered from picture books when her boys were small. With a wail of latex, she freed both herself and dozens of balloons. It must have looked to Marisol and Wendell like the boat was vomiting festivities.
“Congratulations!” Fiona exclaimed, keeping a death grip on the velvet ribbon cinching her bunch of balloons. The wind yanked at them, bumping them together furiously and tangling all of their ties.
“Thank you!” The couple hugged Fiona as Remy wrestled free from below deck. They greeted Remy, too, with hugs.
Remy and Fiona's manic balloons were becoming a hazard, making it difficult to see, hear, or think.
“We can let these two bunches of balloons go,” Fiona announced loudly on a wave of inspiration, “to commemorate the love you have for each other lifting to the heavens.”
“Oh, how perfect,” Marisol said.
“I’ll count up to five,” Remy told them. “One, two, three”—they all joined in—“four, five!”
They released the balloons and Fiona had never been so glad to see two expensive bundles of decorations fly away to become somebody else's problem. She knew that was terrible of her. Too selfish toward the environment and animals. When she got home, she'd write a check to World Wildlife.
Fiona located her purse and passed out hair ties to the females. She never ordinarily lowered herself to a ponytail, but desperate times and all that.
Fiona and Remy were unpacking the picnic basket as Burke made his way down the gangplank. Fiona smiled with relief at the sight of him. His low-key vibe made every situation better.
Burke congratulated the newly engaged couple, easily drawing them into conversation, always knowing the right things to say.
The stars hadn't been aligned for her and Burke to become gold-level friends back when they'd first met. At that time, they'd both been married with young kids. In this season, however, the starshadaligned in their favor. There was just something so comforting about a gold-level friend whom you earnestly liked and fully trusted.
Fiona finished preparing plates of chicken salad sandwiches, fruit, nuts, pretzels, and pickles. She waved them all into seats at the table.
Remy held aloft her champagne flute. “Here’s to true love.”
“To true love,” they all echoed. Their glasses clinked.
Happy chatter flowed around Fiona. She soaked in the details of dusky blue sky, deep blue water, and brave spring fighting to make itself known on the branches of the trees hugging the bay. She drew salty air into her lungs, held it for a few beats, and gradually released it. Her shoulders relaxed. They'd pulled off Wendell's memorable engagement. He and Marisol were as thrilled as any two people could be. Jeremiah had his memories back and he was doing incredibly well because Remy had breathed life back into his heart. Jude was killing it with his career. She hadn’t seen Felix for a blessed three straight weeks. Her accountant had informed her yesterday that her business was on track to reach its highest quarterly earnings in history.
This moment would have felt artificially ideal without the wind. But the wind was here. And the one imperfect aspect of this day made all the other aspects sweeter.
“Want to come by my place?” Burke asked when they'd finished the meal and were cleaning up.
“Yes, please. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
* * *
Fiona had many favorite spots. The living room inside her storybook house. The dining table of the home where she'd grown up when it was packed with family. Bistro Pierre, the impeccable French restaurant in downtown Groomsport where she'd shared hundreds of dinners with her sons. Lying on a table at her spa, receiving a facial. A lounge chair overlooking the teal-blue Caribbean at her favorite resort.
One of her new favorite spots? The leather sofa inside Burke's comfortable, masculine house. He always lit a fire in the fireplace for her because he knew she liked it. She always took off her heels. And he always had wine stocked for her.
The atmosphere here was beguilingly cozy. Mostly because ofhim.
After she'd returned from her conversation with Isobel in New York, she and Burke had discussed at length how to proceed. Isobel had asked Fiona to respect her boundaries. At this point it wouldn't be kind or productive for Fiona to force another meeting.
“I've decided to send Isobel a piece of mail.” She rustled inside her purse and brought out the envelope she'd not yet sealed. “I haven't tried to disguise my handwriting or my return address this time.” She passed it over. “Isobel will know who it's from and be free to open it or return it unopened.”
She watched as he gently took out the contents and looked through them. A twinge of vulnerability assailed her. She hoped he approved.
“Since most everything has been articulated between us,” she went on, “I've only included photographs and an article. The photos are of the two of us on the trip to South America when we were girls and saw the eclipse together.”
He smiled fondly at the pictures. “Remind me how old you were here?”
