“Can I be in the wedding?” Mia asked.
“Obviously,” Vance said. “You’re both in the wedding.”
“Can we have it here? In the house?” Margot asked.
“I think that sounds lovely,” I said.
“Maybe at Christmas?” Margot asked.
“Or spring, when it’s sunny?” Mia suggested.
“We can decide later,” I said, staring at the sparkling diamond on my hand—a hand I’d never imagined would wear a wedding ring again. I’d thought love had passed me by. But it hadn’t. Vance had been there, waiting.
We snuggled on the couch, enjoying the gas fireplace and the jazz playing through the built-in speakers. No turntable tonight, but it sat prominently displayed in the cabinet for when we wanted to use it.
For an hour, we discussed ideas for the wedding—the girls perhaps more excited than Vance or me. We were older and knew it wasn’t the wedding ceremony or reception that mattered. It was all the days after that made a marriage and a family.
“I love you,” Vance said, kissing me lightly. “All of you. So much.”
“I love you too, Papa,” Mia said, flushing. “Is it okay if I call you that?”
“Were we supposed to ask permission?” Margot asked, her forehead creasing.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Vance said smoothly. “I would be honored if you call me Papa, my Mia.”
“And I love to hear you call me Mom,” I said to Margot.
“It’s all settled then,” Vance said.
“Yay for us,” Margot murmured under her breath.
Yay for us indeed.
22
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 Iagreed 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.”
