The screen door creaked, and Marigold glanced up to see Bill, looking tired but incredibly handsome in his tux. “There you are!” He swept her into a hug, then stepped back to survey her. “What’s wrong? Do I need to beat anyone up?”
“I’m fine. Just… figuring out some last-minute details.”
Bill hesitated. He was rarely able to accept that there might be a problem he couldn’t solve, especially when Marigold was visibly upset. But then he caught Lulu’s eye and nodded.
“I’ll head over to the yacht club and let everyone know that you’re here,” he said. “Take all the time you need. Just call when you’re ready, and I’ll send someone over with a cart.” He kissed Marigold on the head, then got into their own golf cart and drove off a bit more slowly than usual, as if waiting to see if they needed anything else. Or perhaps because he was in no hurry to face the man he presumed was the source of Marigold’s distress.
“If you hadn’t seen Jonathan kissing Natalie, how do you think you’d be feeling right now?” Lulu asked as Bill rounded the turn into the woods.
Marigold closed her eyes and tried to shut out all the other noise. She thought about how desperate she’d been to make it back to the island in time, how terrified she’d been of Jonathan discovering the truth, of causing him so much pain. “I really don’t know. But I guess it’s time to go find out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONEOlivia
After watching Zack disappear around the bend, taking the trail that cut across the island to the yacht club, Olivia had continued her search for Marigold, picking Natalie up along the way. Olivia wasn’t quite ready to forgive her sister’s duplicitous maid of honor, but they’d deal with that later, after they found the missing bride.
But without the ability to go off-roading, there’d been no way to follow Marigold into the woods. After a fruitless search of the shoreline, they’d decided that Olivia would drive Natalie (and Marigold’s wedding dress) to the yacht club just in case… well, just in case someone pulled off a miracle. And then Olivia would drive to the cottage to continue the search for Marigold herself.
“Are you sure you have enough battery to get home?” Natalie asked, surveying the golf cart’s power meter warily as she slid out of the passenger seat, clutching the dress.
“Yes, it’ll be fine. There’s always a buffer,” Olivia said. “Now go look for Marigold inside and report back.”
Olivia clutched her phone for the entire fifteen-minute drive back to the cottage, sighing when Natalie texted,still no sign of her.I have to talk to her, Olivia thought, glancing up at the sky as if looking for something to pray to. She had to apologize for what she’d said about Lulu, for stamping on Marigold’s already-bruised heart on what was turning out to be the worst day of her sister’s life.
As Olivia approached the cottage’s gravel driveway, the cart sputtered to a stop in the middle of the road. “Goddammit.” Olivia hit the steering wheel, then climbed out and began to jog up the driveway. She’d deal with it later. Right now, all that mattered was finding her sister. But as she scoured the cottage, calling Marigold’s name, she was met only by silence. Marigold wasn’t there, nor were Lulu or Bill. She trudged back out onto the front porch and leaned against the doorframe. She was out of options. With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and called her mother.
“Hey… I’m looking for Marigold.”
“She’s with us,” Lulu said in a tone Olivia couldn’t fully read. She sounded tired but not particularly tense. Had Marigold confronted her about stopping treatment? Was Lulu angry that Olivia had broken her promise not to say anything? And what had Marigold told her about her fight with Jonathan? “We’re on our way to the yacht club.”
“Okay…” Olivia said slowly. “Should I… meet you there?” It was the closest she could come to asking,Is the wedding still on?
Lulu paused. “Yes, but there’s no need to rush. Marigold has a few things she needs to take care of.”
“Is she okay?”
Another pause. “Yes, I think so.”
“Areyouokay?”
Lulu’s voice softened. “Of course. It’s just a party, Livvy. Everything’s fine. We’ll see you in a bit.”
“Okay. I’ll start walking. The cart is out of charge, and I—” The sound of crunching gravel caught her attention, and she looked up to see a man in tuxedo pants and a white dress shirt pushing a golf cart up the driveway, the back of his shirt drenched in sweat. It was Zack, looking more ridiculous and undignified than should even be possible in a (rented) Armani suit, but weirdly also sexy as hell. She couldn’t imagine Andrew pushing a golf cart like that in the midsummer sun, let alone in his wedding finery. And suddenly, she realized she didn’t want to imagine Andrew doing anything anymore. This was what Paula was talking about when she said, “That’s the kind of love you want, sweetheart. That’s all that really matters.”
This was the type of person she was talking about. A man who sent his friend’s future mother-in-law care packages in the hospital. Who acted with dignity and kindness even after being rejected by the woman he’d been crushing on.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you in a bit.” Olivia hung up, descended the front steps, and began to cross the lawn. “What are you doing?” she called.
“It was just sitting in the middle of the road. What if someone needed to get by?” Zack said, panting slightly as he pushed the cart up the final rise before letting it come to a stop by the charger next to the cottage.
“Ninety percent of the island is at the yacht club, waiting to see if this wedding actually happens. Trust me, no one’s walkingaway from the scandal of the century.” Olivia watched him produce a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead, then continued, “Have the guests figured out anything’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. But Carol is freaking out. Jonathan called me and asked me to swing by the cottage for some of Lulu’s Xanax. I passed the golf cart on my way over and figured I shouldn’t just leave it.”
“That was very thoughtful of you. Though probably not worth ruining your shirt for.”
Zack shrugged. “Any item of clothing that can’t withstand a little sweat isn’t worth holding on to.”
“What’s that? A quote from Chairman Mao?”
