“Come back inside,” he called, his voice warm with affection and too much champagne. "Your father wants to make a toast."
"Coming," she replied, straightening her shoulders and summoning another tight smile.
She moved toward Julian, conscious of Logan's quiet presence behind her and slipped her hand into his, the familiar warmth and strength of her fiancé’s grip grounding her momentarily.
This was her choice, her path forward, she reminded herself. Julian, with his thoughtful intelligence and unwavering support of her ambitions. Julian, who had apparently dated her friend before her but failed to mention it.
As he led her back into the dining room, Jess glanced over her shoulder. Logan had moved to the balustrade too, his back to them as he looked out over the harbor, a solitary figure against the vast darkness of sky and sea.
Then the door closed behind them, and Jess was enveloped once more in the golden light and gentle buzz of her wedding rehearsal dinner, where strawberry shortcake waited on fine china plates and her father stood to toast her happiness.
She smiled and laughed in all the right places, the perfect bride-to-be celebrating the perfect prelude to her perfect Nantucket wedding.
39
The shop belljangled with unusual force when, Finn burst through the front door of Sea Glass Bridal.
In the back room, Caroline heard his heavy footsteps crossing the shop floor, followed by his voice, slightly breathless. “Ellen?”
"Back here," she called out, her hand still resting on her aunt’s forehead.
Finn moved with the brisk efficiency of someone accustomed to emergencies, and knelt beside Ellen, checking her pulse and breathing.”How long has she been unconscious?"
“Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.” Caroline's usual precision with numbers had abandoned her. "She was talking about showing me something, then just... collapsed."
Without further discussion, they established a silent coordination. Finn carefully lifted Ellen's upper body while Caroline supported her legs to the small Victorian settee where brides usually sat during consultations.
He lowered Ellen to it with surprising gentleness, arranging her limbs with the care one might give a sleeping child. Carolinewatched his large hands adjust a pillow beneath her aunt’s head with unexpected tenderness.
"Her medication is upstairs," she said, already moving toward the staircase. "And there's a glass of water by her bed."
Finn didn't look up from Ellen's pale face. "Bring all of her prescriptions. And a blanket - she feels cold."
Caroline climbed the stairs two at a time, her mind cataloging the requisite items with the focus that had defined her professional life. Medication bottles from the bathroom cabinet. The half-full glass of water on Ellen's nightstand. A soft throw blanket folded at the foot of her bed, which still held the impression of Ellen’s brief nap after that afternoon’s dress fitting.
When she returned, Finn had opened the windows, allowing air to circulate through the space. He had loosened Ellen's cardigan and elevated her feet slightly with a cushion.
"Her color's a little better," he said, accepting the medications Caroline handed him. He studied each label before selecting two pills from different bottles. "These are what she takes when episodes like this happen."
"Episodes?" she repeated, the word catching in her throat. "This has happened before?"
Finn gave her a quick, assessing look. "Three times in the past month or so. Though never this severe." He gently lifted Ellen's head, coaxing her to swallow the pills with small sips of water. Some spilled down her chin, which he blotted with his sleeve without comment.
The older woman stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering. Finn murmured something too low for Caroline to catch, his hand steady on Ellen's shoulder. The intimacy of the gesture - deeply personal - again made her feel like an intruder despite her blood relation.
"I think she's stabilizing," he said, checking Ellen's pulse again. "Her heart rate's steadier. Where the hell is the ambulance?"
As if summoned by his question, a distant siren wailed from the street. Caroline moved to the door, unlocking the deadbolt Finn had previously secured to allow emergency access.
"They'll be here soon,” she said, returning to the settee where Ellen now lay with slightly more color in her cheeks, though her eyes remained closed. "Should I - is there anything else I can do?"
Finn stood up and straightened, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that revealed his own stress despite his outward calm. "You've done - " He stopped, his gaze catching on something behind her. "What happened in there?"
Caroline turned, following his line of sight to where the shelves had been partially reorganized, their contents arranged in neat, logical groups rather than Ellen's intuitive system. Boxes labeled with Caroline's precise handwriting sat stacked on the floor, ready to replace the more haphazard storage that had existed before.
"I was trying to improve the workflow …” she said, chin lifting slightly in automatic defensiveness. "Creating a more efficient system ..." Finn's expression hardened. "I was trying to help," she insisted, though the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
Behind him, Ellen lay still on the settee, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths that carried a slight wheeze. "I never claimed to understand all of - " Caroline gestured around the shop with its generations of wedding gowns and handwritten ledgers, " - this. But I understand numbers. Systems. How to make things work better."
