“Sam,” I whispered, my eyes filling.
“No, it was the right thing to do,” he said. “Millie, don’t cry.”
“You love that house,” I said. “It was your parents’….”
Sam smiled, then pulled me back against him and kissed the top of my head. “Of course I love it. But it was Trish’s house, too. In a way, it was hers more than it was mine. And she deserved half of it, no matter what the divorce papers said. So now she has plenty of money, hopefully enough to last a good long time, and she can find something that makes her happy. And I can put some more in Danny’s college fund, too.”
“You’re too good,” I whispered, wiping my eyes.
“Millie, this thing with us…” He turned to look at me and cupped my face with his hands. “We started out fast, but I think we should maybe slow down. It’s not your average relationship, being with your ex-sister-in-law. But I love you, Millie, and I want to be with you. Be patient with me, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, my heart so full of love and happiness that it didn’t seem there was enough room in my chest to hold it. “Oh, Sam, I love you.”
He kissed me, a slow, sweet kiss that was new and home at the same time. When I opened my eyes, Sam was smiling at Curtis and Mitch, who were peeking around the kitchen door.
“We get to be bridesmaids, right?” Curtis asked.
Sam laughed. “Come on, Millie,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
EPILOGUE
A YEAR AND A HALF LATER, I was once again being harbored at the Pink Peacock, hiding from the man I loved. But this time was very different. Today, in roughly forty-five minutes, I would be marrying Sam Nickerson.
There had been some bumps in the road. Things hadn’t been perfect. Danny had had a bit of a hard time with the thought of his dad and me together. Neither Sam nor I had wanted to cause him any unnecessary discomfort, so we’d been very discreet, dating as if it were the 1950s, with him picking me up at my house and bringing me back with a kiss good-night on the front porch.
But with each passing week, the rightness of Sam and me grew stronger. The strangeness of dating my sister’s ex-husband faded, both for us and for other people. My father was the only one who had no adjustment problem whatsoever, and in that way, he paved the road for us. In the spring, he took Danny away for a weekend of fishing, and when they came back, Dan took Sam aside and told him it was okay if he wanted to marry Aunt Mil. My father never told me what he’d said, only that some things in life were just right, even if they were a little weird.
Then came the sale of Sam’s house, and despite his brave words, Sam’s heart had been a little broken. Three weeks after Danny went to Notre Dame, Sam left his home and moved to a little house near the salt pond. He’d wanted a place of his own, at least for Danny’s freshman year.
It was a smart move. It was good for him to live alone, as it had been good for me. We saw each other at least a few times a week and talked every day. Then one night a few months ago, after we’d eaten dinner at my house, we took a walk up to the lighthouse, and there, while the beacon swept across the ocean and the wind gusted and Digger frolicked, Sam slipped an engagement ring on my finger.
So here I was, sitting at a dressing table, looking at myself in the mirror, daydreaming. Curtis poked his head in. “Princess, are you ready?” Katie had temporarily abdicated her responsibilities as my maid of honor, saying that Curtis would do a much better job with hair and makeup. He looked at my not-quite-finished state and clucked. “The guests are here, everyone is downstairs, and look at you! I leave you alone for two minutes…” He came over and knelt next to me. “Are you nervous?”
“No.” I smiled at my buddy. “Have I thanked you and Mitch for my wedding?”
“Honey, if it were up to you two, you would probably have eloped, and we couldn’t have that. Here, don’t forget this.”
I let Curtis fasten a bracelet on my wrist. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s spy.” Snickering, we tiptoed into the hall and took a peek downstairs.
Garlands of roses twined around the railings of the staircase, and candles glowed warmly in the elegant salon. Everyone was there. Mitch, dashing in an Armani tuxedo stood with Katie, who was stunning in her simple, rose-colored sheath dress. They laughed and talked with Jill Doyle and her husband. My mom was elegant and beautiful, bustling about like any good mother of the bride. My dad had Dr. Whitaker cornered, no doubt fascinating the good man with tales from the septic world. Corey and Mikey scurried around, adorable in their tiny suits. Ethel, Sam’s partner, looked quite different out of uniform, actually female, though she seemed a bit on the murderous side, probably because the Pink Peacock was nonsmoking.
A few of Sam’s pals on the police department clustered around the bar. Janette, now pregnant, stood chatting with Zach. Several patients I’d become close with were also here. Not too many people, but everyone we cared about. I couldn’t see Sam, but I heard him laughing. There was my beloved nephew, giving my aunt a kiss and laughing at something she said. Today, in a tuxedo, Danny looked like an American prince. He was Sam’s best man.
There was one more guest, the only one who happened to turn and catch me peering over the banister. Joe Carpenter. He smiled and raised his beer bottle in a silent, affectionate toast. I waved at him fondly.
When Katie had asked me if she could bring him, I must admit I’d been a little stunned.
“As your date?” I’d asked.
“No,” she’d said dismissively, but her cheeks had turned the slightest bit pink. “Not really. Well, we’re just friends right now, okay? Can he come?”
Joe had changed in the past year or so. He’d become head carpenter for Habitat for Humanity on the Cape and had started teaching a woodworking class for the adult education program. Once in a while, our paths would cross at the senior center, where Tripod visited as a therapy dog. When I saw him at the Barnacle, Katie always seemed to be busting his chops in a casual, almost affectionate way. Then one day I’d stopped by and Joe was fixing something at her house, patiently showing Corey how to find a stud in the living-room wall. Who knew? Maybe someday soon, Katie would let a man into her life. If so, it seemed as if Joe would be waiting, because it was clear that he was smitten. They’d certainly have beautiful children.
I took another long look around, trying to press the beauty of this evening into my memory forever. With brimming eyes, I turned to Curtis.
“The Peacock looks beautiful.”
“Thanks. And speaking of beautiful, let’s hope this mascara is waterproof. We don’t want raccoon eyes on your wedding day, do we?”
“How did Sam look?” I asked, standing up and returning to the dressing table in my room. A final glancing at myself in the mirror assured me that the mascara was holding up.
“Nauseous and terrified. What do you think? He’s probably checking his watch every five seconds. Are you ready, honey? The photographer is here.”
Curtis turned me around and took a long look.
“Oh, Millie,” he sighed, his own eyes filling with tears. “You’re…”
“Don’t start,” I said, my throat instantly clamping shut with tears. We laughed shakily.
“I’ll go get Katie and your dad,” Curtis said, wiping his eyes on a monogrammed hankie. He left, and a second later, Katie came in.
“Hi!” I chirped. “I’m almost ready.”
“Yeah, great. Uh, listen, Millie…” Katie looked worried, not a reassuring expression to see on one’s maid of honor. “There’s someone here to see you,” Katie whispered, tucking a wisp of my hair behind my ear. “Scream if you need me.” She gave me a quick hug and hurried out, her dress swishing softly. Before I could wonder who my visitor was, there was a quiet knock, and the door opened again.
Trish.
I hadn’t seen her since she’d ordered me to drop Sam.
A month after landing in France, she’d enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu, where she’d been ever since, studying to become a chef. At Christmas, my parents and Danny had gone to Paris for the holidays. Trish and Sam had been to Notre Dame twice together, to see Danny off and for Parents Weekend, but Trish had not been on the Cape for a year and a half. I’d spoken to her on the phone a few times, and we’d been very cautious and cordial with each other. Of course, she’d been invited to the wedding…she was my sister, after all, but she’d been vague about coming.
She looked, as always, stunningly beautiful. Her hair was quite short, very French, and she wore a navy-blue dress, very Coco Chanel, very Juliette Binoche. She looked closer to twenty-five than forty.
“Hi,” I ventured, unsure of her purpose here. I gave her a stiff hug, which she returned with equal uncertainty.
“Hi. Sorry I didn’t let you know for sure…” Her voice trailed off. “Listen, have you got a minute?”
“Well, actually, we’re about to…sure,” I answered, my palms growing clammy. Please, please don’t let her ruin this day, I prayed.
“I’ll make it short,” Trish said. She came over to the edge of the bed and sat down, crossing her legs and making me feel, as she always did, a bit like a frump, even on my wedding day. I fluffed my dress out so it wouldn’t wrinkle and looked at my sister expectantly.
“Um, Millie,” she began, suddenly looking at her perfect manicure. “I’m sorry that I didn’t let you know I was coming. It was kind of a last-minute decision. In fact, I kind of sneaked in the back door. Nobody else knows I’m here, just Katie.”
“Oh,” I said.
She twisted a silver ring. “Anyway, I just…well, it’s not every day your ex-husband marries your sister. I wasn’t sure if you really wanted me here.”
“We invited you for just that reason, Trish,” I fibbed.
“Well, I guess you’d have to invite your sister,” she said. I didn’t say anything, just watched her fidget. It was so unlike her.
“All right, listen, Millie. I’ll say my piece, then I’ll fly, because you do have other things to do, right? I wanted to see you today. You’re my only sister, it’s your wedding day, and I just wanted to see you and wish you the best. I hope you and Sam are very happy together. Okay?”
I stared at my sister. She had always been so beautiful, so supremely confident, and yet here she was, babbling and nervous, and I suddenly felt a wave of…something. She stood up as if to leave.
“Is there something else you wanted?” I asked gently.
Trish turned around, quickly, took a breath as if to say something, then sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry I was such a crappy sister.”
“You weren’t—” I began automatically, then stopped myself as the shock of her words hit me.
“I was. I have been.” She sat back down. “Millie,” she said, taking a big breath, “I’ve done a lot of thinking lately. Since I left the Cape, I mean. I’ve thought about the two of us a lot. Not just because you were with Sam, but…well, we’ve never really been close. And since I was older, I guess it was my fault.”
“Trish—”
“No, it was. I mean, when we were kids, that was one thing, sisters fight all the time, right? But when we were older…I should have been nicer to you, Millie, but to be honest, I was just so jealous.”
An incredulous snort burst out of me.
“I was,” Trish protested. “You were always the smart one. Mom and Dad were always so proud of your grades and your advanced placement courses, and your college and on and on. And I was just the pretty one.” She stopped, her face flushing pink. “Whoops.”
“Well, it’s true. You’re still the pretty one, Trish.”