They left with three warm boxes, the car filling with the smell of sugar. Maggie leaned back and sighed. “Already the best trip I’ve ever taken.”
“You haven’t seen the house yet,” Izzy said. “It’s stunning. No surprise, given it’s Aunt Jade’s.”
“It’s beautiful,” Kiera confirmed, reaching across the console to take Izzy’s hand.
Maggie was happy for them. She really was.
The lake houselooked like something out of a faded postcard — cedar siding, white trim, sagging porch, Walloon Lake glittering behind it like a sheet of glass.
Inside was chaos: Danica’s mom darting around with a tea towel, barking instructions while chopping herbs, her stepdad silently perfecting a charcuterie board like it was a NASA experiment. Cousins hauling in wine, people stringing lights, laughter and voices overlapping everywhere.
Danica herself appeared, flushed from errands withGladys, her rescued pit bull, at her side. “You made it.” She hugged Maggie tight as Gladys leaned against Maggie’s legs, then lowered her voice. “I put you in the bunk room with Izzy and Kiera. Instant summer camp.”
“The what?”
“The bunk room,” Izzy said gleefully.
Kiera added, “I’m the counselor, Izzy’s the delinquent, and you’re the homesick kid writing letters.”
“Rude,” Maggie teased. “I definitely feel like I bring the best camp counselor energy.” She reached down to scratch Gladys’ ears.
“I’d hire you for my summer camp,” Pete said from somewhere behind her, picking her up in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Maggie looked around at all of her friends, people she’d known and loved for nearly half her life. “I’m so glad to be here, too.”
“No crying,” Danica shouted, seeing Maggie’s eyes start to tear up.
Dinner was a blur: charcuterie, grilled fish, pies in the center of the table like trophies. Too many conversations at once, glasses clinking, laughter rolling out across the deck.
Later, with bellies full and cheeks warm from wine, the five of them gathered at the fire pit in Adirondack chairs. They dragged blankets out from the house, settled in with another bottle of wine. The air had that sharp fall edge to it, smoke curling up into the stars.
Izzy sat sideways in Kiera’s lap, her head tucked against Kiera’s shoulder, their laughter low and easy. Pete and Danica leaned close, hands linked between their chairs, the flames catching in their faces. According to Pete, Gladys had put herself to bed hours ago.
Maggie curled deeper into her blanket, letting herself pretend. Pretend it was just another trip, Gwen back homewith the kids, everything intact. Not this hollow ache, not the lonely bed, not the worddivorceechoing in her chest.
Danica’s gaze flicked to her across the fire. “How are you, really?” she asked softly. “I mean — with everything.”
Maggie bristled, taking a drink directly from the wine bottle. “Oh no. Nope. We are not talking about that.”
“Mags—”
“Dan.” Maggie leveled her with a look, then softened. “This is your wedding weekend. We’re two days out. We are not making it about me.” She reached for her glass, swallowed hard. “You’re getting married. Let’s all be happy. What happened to your no-crying rule?”
Danica hesitated, then let it go, leaning back into Pete’s shoulder.
The fire cracked, sparks popping into the night. Somewhere down by the lake, a long, mournful honk carried over the water.
Everyone froze.
“What was that?” Maggie asked.
Pete shuddered visibly. “It’s the fucking swan from hell.”
Izzy snorted. “Maybe she just wants pie.”
“Don’t joke,” Pete muttered, pulling her blanket tighter. She pitched her voice lower. “It’s watching.”
Maggie laughed, then realized she was the only one laughing. She cleared her throat. “Okay, so I did have an idea about the tablescape…” she began.
