I’d done some reading on the place in the last week, of course, and the pictures online were great. I was really looking forward to exploring some more tomorrow and Sunday, before I had to leave.
The hissy fit my boss threw when I told her I wanted a long weekend off? Toddler-level temper tantrum. To be honest, I didn’t go to grad school to sell clothing in a second-rate mall store, and I think she knows I don’t have any love for the job. So when I told her Iwouldbe attending my bestie’s wedding and helping her settle in,my boss finally backed down and let me have Saturday and Sunday.
Which is why I didn’t show up on Eastshore until this evening. Just in time to nurse my wheezing sedan off the ferry, praying it would last a few more months, help Kesha with her hair, have a late dinner off the main street of town—we were staying in The Rose Inn, a cute little bed and breakfast in the historic district—and hustle down here to the beach. From what I’d seen of Eastshore, everyone was friendly and open and welcoming, and it made me really happy to be here.
I’ll admit that the history nerd in me was already looking forward to poking around the rest of the historic district tomorrow.AndI read online how there’s a cool lighthouse from the mid-1800s on the north side of the island. I did my archaeological thesis on how Cape Cod lighthouses were moved to save them from erosion, and so I had a soft spot for lighthouses.
And bysoft spot, I mean I had a box at home filled entirely with little ceramic models of the lighthouses I’d visited over the years.
But the Eastshore Lighthouse was for tomorrow; tonight was all about Kesha.
“Are you ready?” I whispered to her as we waited behind the dunes for Milo’s friend to give us the go-ahead. I gently smacked her hand away from where she was plucking at the straps of her dress. “You look fine, don’t mess yourself up. Are there going to be photos?”
“Jay is taking some on his dad’s phone, I think,” Kesha murmured distractedly. “Maybe one of Korrad’s friendsis taking some? Oh, I don’t know. Milo, honey, get down from there.”
I twisted to see the ten-year-old climbing the dunes. “Milo,” I hissed, knowing he’d listen to me. Sure enough, when I saw his big eyes turn to me in the moonlight, I calmed my tone. “See all those grasses? Those are sea oats. Beach towns plant them to protect the dunes. Know why?” When he mutely shook his head, I held out my hand, beckoning him down. “Because dunes are just piles of sand, and they’re really fragile. The roots from the grass anchors them, but every time an animal climbs on the sand, more of the dune wears away.”
He understood, because he scrambled down and slid his hand into mine. “Sorry, Aunt Jossy.”
I squeezed his hand. “No worries, now you know. You’re bigger than an animal, so just hang out with us, okay?”
At that moment, out on the beach, the music started, and I felt Kesha tense up.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, then blew out a breath. “Okay, okay, we’re doing this. Ready, Milo? You remember the plan?”
The little boy dutifully moved to her side as he parroted the instructions. “I hold your hand and walk slowly. I aim for the arch Jay set up with the flowers. I let go of you and go stand by Jay. Aunt Jossy will stand next to you. I stand as still as possible and don’t pick my nose, and I try to listen to the words you and Mr. Korrad are saying. If I can stay still and not make distracting noises, I can have two cupcakes afterward.”
Kesha stared down at her son for a few beats longer than I expected, and when I saw the tears in her eyes, I knew why.
“I’m so proud of you, Milo,” she whispered hoarsely, bending down to kiss his forehead. “Remember that. I’m proud of you, and I love you so, so much.”
After all, she was marrying a virtual stranger for his sake.
When she straightened, I reached out and squeezed her other hand. “Love you, Kesha. You can do this.”
Her smile was a little watery, but her nod was firm.
Then Mendelson’s “Wedding March” began, and I tugged them both down the little pathway between the dunes to the beach. Once we were arranged, I handed Kesha the hydrangea she was supposed to carry, then turned to the distant wedding set up.
And froze.
Orcs. There were orcs in the audience, I couldn’t mistake their broad shoulders and the gleam of their tusks in the moonlight.
Not only that, but the three shapes under the arch were orcish. “You’re marrying anorc,” I whispered weakly to Kesha.
“Korrad. He’s on the left.” I heard her take a deep breath, but couldn’t drag my startled gaze away from the males I saw. “The mayor is an orc, and he’s going to be marrying us. Korrad’s twin brother is the best man, but I don’t think orcs call him that. Actually, I don’t think orcs have marriage ceremonies at all, andoh my God, what am?—”
“It’s fine,” I hissed, cutting her off before Milo realized she was freaking out. I forced myself to look away from the ceremony set up and pinned my best friend with a stern look. “If you want to back out, I will drive you to the B&B myself. But you’ve spent the last two weeks telling me how awesome this Korrad is, and him being an orc doesn’t make him any less wonderful.”
I suppose, if I’d thought about it, I shouldn’t be surprised that my bestie had a thing for orcs too. I mean, she was the one to get me into watching the OHL. But what were the odds that Milo would become close with an orcish kid and lead to all this?
When Kesha nodded and took a deep shuddering breath, I knew she was going to be okay. “You’re right,” she whispered. “Korradisawesome, and hewillprotect us.”
Protect? That’s not what I said, was it?
But then she brushed past me. “Come on, Milo. Let’s go meet your—” Her voice caught a little, and she swallowed. “Your new father.”
My brows rose, and I watched her march past, gripping her son’s hand. Kesha’s bravery was impressive, and I did the only thing I could: I lifted my chin and followed behind her, ready to back her up however I could.
