"He's excited about the wedding obviously," Jess said, feeling oddly defensive. "Just has a different relationship with time than the rest of us mere mortals. But he’ll be ready.”
The morning had grown warmer, the spring sun burning through the last wisps of sea mist that had clung to the water at dawn. A pair of gulls squabbled over something on the dock, their harsh cries carrying across the water.
It felt so surreal to be back here, planning her wedding with her childhood best friend as if no time had passed, as if they were still the same girls who had once sworn blood oaths of eternal friendship on this very harbor.
Yet so much had changed - Nadine with her perfectly organized life and almost-teenage children, Jess with her Manhattan apartment and corporate career, both of them wearing the polished veneer of adulthood over the wilder girls they had once been.
"And are you - ready?" Nadine asked, her voice gentle but direct. "Not just for the wedding but... marriage?"
The question hung in the air between them, heavier than the scent of wisteria that drifted down from the vines overhead.A breeze from the harbor ruffled the pages of Nadine's meticulously organized planner.
Jess felt a familiar tightness in her chest - the same sensation she experienced whenever Julian's mother asked about grandchildren, or when Marianne hinted about them maybe moving back to Nantucket ‘eventually.’
Or that very morning when Ellen pointed out that Jess’s wedding dress would be ready when she was.
She reached for her empty cup, buying time. "Marriage," she repeated with an exaggerated sigh, a twinkle in her eye. "Is anyone ever really ready to trade in their Netflix password for a shared calendar app?"
Nadine looked dubious.
"What? I'm taking the whole 'til death do us part' thing very seriously. That's why I've asked to take a rain check on forever." Jess grinned, spinning her empty cup between her fingers. "I told Julian I'd commit to the next fiscal quarter and then we'd reassess market conditions."
Nadine shook her head. "Always with the jokes."
“Hey, he's the only man I know who could make me consider domestication," Jess continued, her tone deliberately light. Her fingers tapped an irregular rhythm against the rim of her mug, a nervous habit from childhood that surfaced whenever she felt cornered. "It's not like there's a final exam for marriage readiness," she added when her friend remained silent. "If there was, I'm pretty sure the divorce rate wouldn't hover around fifty percent."
Nadine reached across the table and gently stilled Jess's tapping fingers. "Hey. It's just me asking. Not your mother, not Julian's family. Just your oldest friend who wants to see you happy."
Jess exhaled, forcing her shoulders to relax. "I know. I'm sorry." She withdrew her hand and tucked a strand of hairbehind her ear. “I guess the whole 'wife' identity thing still feels like wearing someone else's clothes that don't quite fit, you know?"
“Oh I remember the feeling," Nadine said archly.
“That night you called me from your honeymoon,” Jess chuckled. “You were so shocked that the hotel staff called you 'Mrs. Pike' that you almost corrected them."
"I was young and foolish. But I grew into it," Nadine said, her voice carrying another note Jess couldn't quite interpret. "That's what happens. You grow into the roles you choose. Or the ones that choose you."
“Speaking of ill-fitting clothes,” Jess said, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, "I met Ellen's niece at Sea Glass Bridal earlier."
"Oh?" Nadine asked, allowing the pivot. “What’s she like?
Jess wrinkled her nose. "She's some financial restructuring specialist from Chicago who kept talking about ‘wasted inventory' and 'future viability.'" She mimicked Caroline's clipped, efficient tone. “Carried on like Ellen was running a charity instead of a business. It was like watching someone audit the Sistine Chapel.”
"Well, in a way, Ellen is," Nadine said thoughtfully. “She’s always been more of a... I don't know, a keeper of dreams, than a typical shopkeeper. Remember when Lisa Peterson's father died two weeks before her big day? Ellen stayed up three nights straight sewing a patch from his favorite shirt into the lining of her dress."
"I can't imagine Chicago Caroline understanding that kind of thing." Jess shook her head. "I'm kinda worried about my dress though. Ellen promised to do the final alterations herself on Thursday, but she looks so frail."
"Ellen wouldn't let anything go awry with your dress," Nadine assured her. "She's as stubborn as she is talented."
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the distant clatter of dishes from inside the café, but Jess noticed Nadine twist her wedding band again, a simple platinum circle that caught the morning light. There was something in the gesture that made her wonder if her friend's perfectly organized life was truly as satisfying as it appeared?
Before she could probe further, a gust of wind scattered cherry blossom petals across their table, pale pink against the blue-and-white china. The breeze carried the distinctive scent of salt roses that grew wild along the island's eastern shore, mixed with the mineral tang of wet stone from the morning's high tide.
"We should probably head down to the ferry," Jess said, checking her watch. "Megan's boat will dock soon."
"Of course." Nadine immediately shifted back into efficient mode, closing her planner with a decisive snap and gathering the receipts she'd carefully placed under a sugar bowl. "I've already arranged for her luggage to be delivered to your parents' house, so she doesn’t have to lug it around town when we show her around or grab lunch.”
Jess smiled, grateful for her friend's truly impressive organizational skills. "Always thinking three steps ahead."
9
