“We’re not supposed to see each other,” she objected even as a rush of relief washed over her at the sight of him.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close while gazing into her eyes. “I knew you might be feeling a little upset about the weather, so I wanted to give you a hug and tell you it’s all going to be okay. Better than okay — it’s going to be great. I’ve sorted it all out. The guests will be arriving here on time, the entire place is decorated, the minister is already seated in the living room eating snacks and telling dad jokes. And I can’t wait to marry you.”
“How did you do it all so quickly?”
“We’ve been working on it for hours, but I couldn’t reach you to let you know.”
“I can’t find my phone,” she said, with a sigh.
He laughed. “Well, you have a dozen messages on it.”
His hair was combed perfectly, chestnut waves with streaks of grey that made him look distinguished. He wore a pair of jeans and a soft blue T-shirt. There were drips of rainwater on his shoulders. He smelled like cologne and minty gum.
“Thank you,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Go upstairs. There’s a room all set up for you ladies to get dressed in. There’s a bottle of champagne and some fruit and other snacks for you. If you need anything else, just yell. Aidan’s locked Nelly in the laundry room, so if you hear scratching, ignore it. She’s fine and surrounded with chew toys and snacks.”
By the time the ceremony began, Penny’s anxiety had abated and all she felt was pure joy. Rowan and his groomsmen had brought all the decorations to the house. They’d contacted the equipment rental company, who’d come and set up the chairs in Aidan’s living room. The flowers were placed along a makeshift aisle. The minister stood before floor-to-ceiling picture windows that held a silent vigil over the ocean even as the rain subsided.
Penny walked down the staircase behind her bridesmaids with one hand resting on her stepfather’s arm. Henry patted her hand, then steadied himself with the handrail as they made their descent. The small group of guests turned to watch her as a string quartet played Pachelbel’s Canon.
Rowan wore a black suit without a tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His green eyes glistened as he watched her descend the staircase, his lips pulled into a wide smile. She breathed deeply, savouring the moment. There had been a time in her twenties when she was desperate to find someone, to settle down and get married. She’d dated a man for five years, hoping he’d pop the question someday, but looking back, she knew they weren’t a good match. And he must’ve known it as well because he never asked and then ended their relationship. She’d been devastated at the time, wondering how she could’ve wasted so much time on someone who clearly didn’t love her the way she longed to be loved.
But now, she saw the truth. He wasn’t the one for her. All these years, Rowan had been there in the back of her mind, returning to the island during his holidays, teasing her, irritating her, visiting Rob and making excuses to stay longer to spend time with her. She hadn’t recognised her true feelings for such a long time, but now she’d finally given in to them, and she felt more joy and peace over their future together than she ever had.
She paced slowly down the shallow aisle. Henry, kissed her cheek and Rowan took her hand. Rowan’s eyes were shimmering with tears, but her own were clear. She didn’t feel like crying now. She felt like laughing instead. Laughing with joy.
“Do you take this man?” the minister asked.
She let out a burst of giggles, then shouted, “Yes!”
Everyone in the audience laughed along with her. Then when she threw her arms around Rowan’s neck to kiss him after they were pronounced husband and wife, the entire group cheered.
Seventeen
TWO DAYS LATER,Charmaine rode her new bike around the island after a full day of work in the florist shop. She’d been so busy with weddings every weekend, she hadn’t had the chance to do much exploring. Since she’d worked on Saturday for Penny’s wedding, delivering the flowers and planning the event, Betsy had let her finish work early today. She’d collected Watson, sat him in the basket on the front of her bike and set off to pedal as far as she could manage.
The sun was shining. All the world was glistening after the rain. Grass blades bent double beneath droplets of water, the roads were pockmarked with muddy puddles, and birds swooped and sang, glad to be flying free once again.
She felt much the same way. It was good to be outside, on her own and able to go wherever she wished. She enjoyed her work, but needed a break. And what better way to spend her free time than on her shiny new bike with Watson in the basket?
The cat had sheltered out the storm in the seat of her armchair, curled into a ball with eyes firmly shut. He’d blinked sleepily in her direction when she’d come inside after the wedding, shaking the droplets of water from her umbrella. Then with a yawn, he went back to sleep. She didn’t mind. It was nice to have someone to come home to.
The road dipped before climbing a low hill. Then she stopped at the small cove where she’d met up with Beatrice and Aidan swimming. She carried Watson down to the water’s edge and walked through the lapping waves, letting the water splash as high as her thighs. Watson wasn’t keen on that, so she retreated back up the beach before he covered her arms with scratches. He soon settled down, and she watched as a small flock of seagulls circled overhead and landed close by, hoping she might have something for them to eat.
The tension of the past few years had worn her down. It’d been so long since she’d felt this relaxed, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with herself. It was as though for the first time in a long time, she could simplyberather than doing anything in particular. She wasn’t looking over her shoulder, wasn’t thinking about what she might’ve done differently, wasn’t regretting her actions. If she let herself think too deeply, she’d go there again. Instead she watched the waves lapping against the golden sand, closed her eyes to enjoy the warmth of the sun on her face.
Her thoughts kept returning to the original reason she’d moved to Coral Island.
Her aunt.
Even if Charmaine could locate her, would she want to know her? The extended family had given up on her mother a long time ago. It was unlikely they’d want anything to do with Charmaine.
She carried Watson back to the bike. The cat was eager to get into the basket. She didn’t want him leaping out in the middle of nowhere, so she hurried to get the bike going again, pedalling in the direction of Kellyville.
The truth was, there was a quiet hoping deep down inside that perhaps on her daily jaunts she might see her aunt and recognise her immediately — she could look like her own mother, or have her voice, or her laugh. But in the weeks that she’d lived on the island, she hadn’t encountered anyone who fit that description.
If her mother hadn’t severed the connection, maybe Charmaine would’ve been raised in a large, extended family who spent their days fishing, snorkelling and sunbathing. Nothing like the city life she’d grown up with—the smog, traffic, hordes of people pushing their way onto the train to get to school or work. How different her life might’ve been.
