Jess nodded, grateful yet strangely reluctant to end the evening. "Thank you." She hesitated, then added, "Did you know? About her and Scott?”
Right then, she almost didn’t want to send Nadine home to her cheating husband. Instead, Jess wanted to wring Scott Pike’s neck.
Logan's expression grew thoughtful as he glanced at Nadine, now slumped against the taxi's window with her eyes half-closed. "Not exactly," he said finally. "But I've noticed changes in her since I came back. She's been throwing herself into island projects with ... intensity - even for Nadine. The historical preservation committee, summer bonfire planning, your wedding …” He shrugged, the movement accentuated by the streetlight above. "People fill voids with different things. Nadine fills hers with perfect outcomes she can control."
The observation was astute, revealing a depth of perception that Jess had almost forgotten he possessed. He’d always beenso astute - noticing subtle shifts in weather before they appeared on any forecast, reading emotional currents that others missed.
"She seemed so happy," Jess said quietly, partly to herself. "All these years, I thought she had exactly what she wanted."
"Maybe she did, once," Logan replied, his voice softening. "That's the thing about happily ever after’ - it sounds like an ending, but it's really just the beginning of something more complicated." He glanced toward the harbor, where a few boat lights bobbed gently in the darkness. "I think it lets people down, that whole fairytale thing. Makes them think if they find the right person, happiness just falls into place for good. When really, it’s a choice you keep making, day after day."
From inside the taxi, Nadine's voice emerged, slurred but insistent. "Are we going home now? Or do I have to listen to you two mooning over each other while the meter keeps running?”
Despite herself, Jess barked a laugh. ”Call me when you get her settled OK? Just so I know she's okay.” She quickly rattled off her number which Logan inputted into his own device.
"Of course," he promised. He hesitated a little, then added, "For what it's worth, I think she'll be fine. Nadine's always been far stronger than she gives herself credit for. Like someone else I know.”
With that, Logan slid into the taxi beside their friend, pulling the door closed with a solid thunk that echoed against the quiet buildings.
Through the window, Jess watched him buckle Nadine's seatbelt with patient care. The taxi pulled away from the curb, its taillights receding down the harbor road until they disappeared around a bend. She remained standing on the boardwalk, suddenly alone with thoughts that refused to be neatly categorized or dismissed. His words echoed in her mind:"It's a choice you keep making, day after day."Not a fairytaleending but a continuing story, requiring constant attention and renewal.
She thought of Julian - his careful curation of their life together, (much like Nadine now that she thought about it) his thoughtful selection of her engagement ring, his dedication to building a partnership that accommodated both their ambitions.
All the right boxes checked, all the practical considerations addressed.
Yet standing alone on this familiar boardwalk, the distant sound of waves providing rhythm to her thoughts, Jess found herself questioning, not Julian's suitability, but her own capacity for the kind of ongoing choice Logan had described.
Had she chosen Julian because he was right for her, or because he fit so perfectly into the idea of happiness she herself, had imagined beyond Nantucket?
34
The next daya little before 2pm, Jess made her way toward Sea Glass Bridal, the familiar cobblestone path both comfort and challenge beneath her feet.
Last night's revelry had thankfully left her surprisingly clear-headed - a gift from the gods. Though sadly the same couldn’t be said for Nadine, she thought wincing in sympathy for her friend, whose raging hangover precluded her from coming along for today’s final fitting as per her simple text this morning:I feel like hell.
Sea Glass Bridal appeared ahead, its weathered shingle exterior and blue-painted door as familiar to Jess as her childhood home. Window boxes freshly planted with purple and white pansies framed the display window where a vintage gown caught the morning light, its beaded bodice throwing tiny rainbows across the glass. Jess paused, her reflection superimposed over the dress - her casual jeans and sweater a stark contrast to the formal elegance within.
"There she is …” Right upon entering, Ellen’s voice came from the back of the shop, where the older woman emerged from behind a rack of dresses.
Jess's smile froze momentarily as she took in Ellen's appearance. Her cardigan hung loose on shoulders that seemed to have diminished even since Monday, and the skin of her face was drawn tight across more prominent cheekbones. The seamstress moved with deliberate care, each step measured as if walking on glass. Only her eyes remained unchanged - bright with the same attentive warmth that had welcomed so many generations of brides.
“It’s great to see you,” Jess crossed the shop quickly, leaning in to kiss the older woman's papery cheek, as her niece appeared from the back room, carrying what must be Jess’s wedding dress in its protective garment bag.
Something in Caroline’s demeanor had also changed - the corporate sharpness gently rounded at the edges, like sea glass tumbled by waves.
"Welcome," she greeted Jess, hanging the dress on the fitting room door. “All's prepped and ready.”
The fitting room was barely large enough for two people, its walls covered in faded floral wallpaper that had witnessed decades of transformations.
While Ellen waited, Caroline unzipped the protective bag and the dress emerged - ivory satin with delicate lace overlay and sleeves, and a fitted beaded bodice that flowed into a gentle A-line skirt.
Jess took the gown from her, feeling its weight settle around her. "She doesn't look well," she whispered quietly.
"She's not," Caroline confirmed with a murmur, as Jess stepped behind the fitting room curtain to change into it. "But she's determined to finish this.”
A little later, Jess moved to stand in the center of the room, where afternoon light from the high windows created a natural spotlight. She felt the familiar sensation of becoming someoneslightly different, slightly more ethereal, in her wedding gown - as if the dress itself carried some transformative power.
"Turn, please," Ellen directed, rising with careful movements to circle her, measuring tape in hand. "Yes, I thought so. Just the tiniest adjustment at the waist. And the hem needs to come up a quarter inch on the left side."
