by Lori Wilde
“Is that why you’re rough on me sometimes?” Madison asked. “When you see my mother’s unattractive traits in me?”
“I can get pretty territorial when it comes to protecting Helen,” Darynda said. “I apologize if I’ve ever made you feel harshly criticized, Maddie. I was coming from a place of insecurity.”
“I appreciate you saying that, Darynda. It gives me courage.” Madison turned and took Shelley’s hand.
Shelley startled, eyes widening, then she said in a voice with a let’s-not-get-too-serious tone, “What?”
“I’ve been just as rough on you, Shelley. If not more so.”
“Pah.” Shelley slipped out of Madison’s grip. “Water. Bridge. I’m over it. Don’t get mushy.”
Grammy smiled a small wavy smile, her lips barely able to hold it up.
That sweet brief smile was both happy and heartbreaking.
Sadness moved through Gia, and she clenched her hands to keep from weeping at the pain they’d all suffered. Her body hurt over the past misunderstandings, the miscommunications, the missteps, the mistakes. They all loved one another and yet they’d caused each other so much heartache, and now they were losing Grammy, bit by bit.
But here was the beautiful thing. They’d finally come together.
Just in the nick of time.
In unison, without a word spoken, the three sisters moved closer, encircling the bed. Madison reached out and took Darynda’s left hand with her right, and Shelley’s right hand with her left. Shelley took Gia’s hand and on one side, Gia slipped her fingers through Grammy’s, while Darynda did the same on the other side.
They all looked from one to the other in their first moment of solidarity in five long years. Then Shelley, the cutup, who couldn’t bear much seriousness, started singing “Who Let the Dogs Out.”
Laughing, they sang and danced madly about the room until the stern head nurse burst in and threw them all out of the room.
Chapter Nineteen
Gia
PAPER FOUNDATION: A thin piece of paper with a drawn, printed, or stitched pattern that becomes the base for a quilt block when fabric is sewn directly onto it.
FROM THAT DAY in Grammy’s hospital room forward, the Moonglow sisters were once again inseparable, working in harmony for one unifying goal—to set up the pop-up store for the Fourth of July weekend and earn enough money to get the Moonglow Inn out of debt.
Grammy’s condition improved dramatically—even Dr. Hollingway was impressed and surprised—and they moved her to the local rehab hospital. The sisters visited whenever they could and devoted Darynda stayed by Grammy’s side, even bringing her own cot into the room so she could sleep there.
Mike took care of Darynda’s dogs, bringing them to his house to stay until Grammy was released from the rehab hospital. The Moonglow sisters would have readily taken on her dignified German shepherds, but the dogs were terrified of Pyewacket. Mike and the volunteers from the Chamber of Commerce finished the renovations and Madison updated the website just in time to book their first guests for the Fourth of July weekend, a middle-aged couple from Cleveland on their twentieth anniversary, returning to the beach where they’d first met.
The weeks leading up to the Fourth were frantic with activity and Gia had little time to hang out with Mike, but running the inn with her sisters felt like old times.
During the renovations, they’d all moved back into the single bedroom they’d shared as teenagers. They left it untouched to save money. Later, once the inn was on its feet again, they’d redo this room too.
Each night was like a slumber party as they dished about their lives while they’d been apart. Shelley regaled them with stories of cult life in Costa Rica with that irreverent hilarious way of hers. Madison glammed it up with tales from a TV reality-show host. Gia kept it exotic with her kitemaking adventure in Japan.
The healing had begun in earnest.
On the holiday weekend of the pop-up store opening, everything ran like a well-oiled machine, thanks to Madison’s organizational chart. Shelley’s assignment was to cater to their guests and give morning yoga classes on the beach. Mike and Madison, with help from the Chamber of Commerce and the Quilting Divas, ran the pop-up store. Gia gave kite lessons and flying demonstrations, while Darynda manned the kitchen, feeding the volunteers.
When the long weekend was over, their guests departed raving about the Moonglow Inn and promised a five-star Yelp review. Shelley had been offered a job teaching yoga at the local studio. Gia had sold every single kite she had in her inventory, leaving only Mike’s blue fish and her pink dragon of the kites she’d spent a year amassing in Japan. It was gratifying to see her artwork flying the skies of Moonglow Cove.
Most important of all, they’d earned enough to not only pay off all Grammy’s debt, but to also repay Madison for her investment in the back payments to keep the inn out of foreclosure.
They celebrated with champagne on the back porch at sunset on Sunday night. To top off the victorious event, the head nurse at the rehab hospital called to say that Grammy could come home in a week.
That glorious news spurred an impromptu party with Shelley cranking up the sound system and creating a playlist. She spun Madison around on the porch to “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves” by the Eurythmics and Aretha Franklin.
Mike held out his hand to Gia and they joined the dancing as the music shifted into “Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish.
He pulled her close to the slow song and whispered, “I love falling into your ocean eyes.”
Gia’s pulse quickened. Her body was exhausted from the pace of the past four days, but her spirit, oh, it soared to the sky as surely as one of her kites.
He rested his forehead on hers and she went cross-eyed staring into him. His blue eyes transfixed her hazel ones. They’d stopped moving and were just standing there peering deeply at each other, Mike clasping her hands in his, his mouth so close, his breath warm and fruity with the smell of champagne.
“Hey, you two,” Shelley hollered from where she’d collapsed into one of the rocking chairs. “Get a room.”
Gia stepped back, heart pounding. This was it. The time she should tell her sisters they weren’t really engaged. Things had been going so well. Everyone was working so hard on forgiving and letting go of the past. They’d forgive her. Of that she felt certain.
But there was still the wedding quilt to finish.
And then Mike cocked his head, smiled softly, and whispered, “Do you want to come home with me?”
Gia slipped her hand into the palm Mike extended toward her.
“We won’t wait up,” Madison said.
“Be here on the porch at nine tomorrow morning to finish Grammy’s quilt,” Gia called over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around to look at them as Mike led her down the steps and across the lawn toward his house. The hem of her dress swayed softly against her bare legs. “Both of you.”
“Have fun!” Shelley called.
Gia grinned in the dark, her blood pumping hot and sticky through her veins. Maybe the champagne had gone straight to her head, but she was all in. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, only that she was mad excited about it.
Sweet, sweet, yes.
The moon was rising, a full and magnificent beach ball above the dark waters of the ocean. Pay attention, it seemed to say. See . . . truly see . . . the ephemeral beauty of this glorious moment. Listen to the waves. Hear the seagulls call. Please yourself, Gia. Do what feels right.
They climbed over the small stone wall, hand in hand. Mike led her to the cozy little bungalow cottage wreathed in vines and greenery. The house had a gabled roof straight out of a fairy tale. It was whimsical and inviting. A hand-carved bench sat on the front porch and the scent of hedge honeysuckles filled the air.
She hesitated at the steps.
Mike stopped. Said nothing, just waited for her. Patiently. As if he’d happily wait a lifetime for her if necessary.
The momen
t hung suspended, quivering like the moon glinting off the water.
Likewise, Gia quivered, dangled, caught in the moonglow.
It was a sudden utopia, unexpected and transient. A gingerbread house. A storybook idyll. Mythic and legendary, as if some gentle forest creature lived here. Holding, if just for an instant, the snapshot of utter peace and tranquility.
Her first time with Mike.
She didn’t know where their relationship was headed. If there would be more times or this was one special moment. Right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he drew her to him, kissed her softly, opened the door and welcomed her inside.
A few minutes later, after they fed Darynda’s German shepherds and let them outside into the fenced backyard, she curled up on his couch while Mike drifted into the kitchen to fetch them two beers.
She glanced around as if seeing his house for the first time, through a lover’s eyes. Inside, it was just as cute as the outside. Tidy, organized, rustic but with a touch of whimsy, just like Mike. The color scheme was black, white, and gunmetal gray with pops of vibrant red accents. Leather furniture, industrial light fixtures, nubby rug over hand-scraped dark wood flooring. Framed artwork of seascapes. A saltwater fish tank filled with colorful fish. On the bottom of the tank was an open treasure chest with a skeleton pirate popping out, grinning, and waving.
Gia smiled when she saw that.
Beside the fish tank sat a hand-carved sailing ship on a stand. The work was intricate, delicate, and she knew before she asked that Mike had done it even though it was nothing like the comfortable design of his furniture pieces. She reached for it, stroked her fingers over the bow, admired the artistry.
“You carved this?” she asked as he walked back into the living room and handed her a cold beer.
He looked sheepish, like he’d been indulging in a guilty pleasure. “It’s something I’ve been working on in my spare time. It’s not finished.”
“I didn’t know you did this kind of woodworking. It takes a fine hand.”
“Coming from a kite artisan like yourself, I consider that high praise.” He settled onto the couch beside her, his body heat seeping warmth into her. “I’ve missed you, G,” he murmured, setting his beer on the coffee table and giving her his full attention. “We’ve been so busy saving the inn we haven’t had much time together.”
She put the wooden ship back where she’d found it and took a sip of her beer, more out of nervousness than because she really wanted it.
She set down her beer and took his hand, traced the hard calluses on his palm. “Tell me about the first thing you ever made.”
“I’ve never told you this story?”
Gia shook her head.
“See this?” He held up his thumb to reveal a faint silvered scar at the base. “My first cut on my first project. My granddad gave me a pocketknife for my sixth birthday and showed me how to make my own slingshot.”
“I think your knife skills were pretty rudimentary.”
“Yep. I still have the slingshot, though. The nurse in the emergency room cleaned the blood off for me. My first woodworking mishap and my first stitches.”
“Oh, poor baby.” She brought his thumb to her mouth and kissed it.
Mike shivered. “You do dangerous things to me, woman.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t play coy, Gia Jasmine Clark.” He rested his arms across the back of the couch and his right ankle over his left knee. Spreading out.
“You remembered my middle name?”
“I heard Madison call it out enough when she was ticked off at you.”
“You know everything about me,” she said. “Where’s the mystery?”
“Not everything.” He lowered his voice and his eyelids and leaned in to kiss her. “There’s the whole Japan thing. I have no idea what went on there.”
“I ate a lot of fish and seaweed.”
“And wasabi, too, apparently.”
“I’ve gotten a little spicier as I’ve gotten older.”
“Hmm.” He kissed her again. “Wasabi at twenty-three? What’s left for your thirties? Habanero?”
“You’ll have to stick around and find out.”
“I’m a Moonglow Cove man. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Plan on spending your life beachcombing and making furniture?”
“I do.”
She peered into his eyes. “Sounds like heaven to me.”
“You’re easy to please.”
“You say that now.” She grinned. “Just wait.”
“Now you’ve got my hopes up.” His hot lips branded her with a long, deep, dizzying kiss.
“What are you hoping for?”
“To please you.”
“Hey, wait, aren’t you the one who’s always preaching please yourself?”
“That advice is exclusively for you. Most people please themselves too much without regard for others. You, on the other hand, take other people’s opinions too much to heart.”
“I’m working on it.”
“I can tell. That’s why my aim is to please you. To help you learn exactly what it is that you like.” His voice turned deep and throaty.
“Oh my.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So, you’re going to make me happy?” She gave him a sly grin.
“I’m gonna give it my best shot, Short Stack.”
“Where do we start?”
“Where all good woodworking starts. By taking inventory.”
“Oh, so we’re working wood now?”
He angled her a sultry stare. “Did you ever doubt it?”
“What do you mean by ‘taking inventory’?”
“What kind of wood do you have? What kind of tools?” He ran the tip of his finger along her collarbone.
“That’s similar to kitemaking.” She canted her head, enjoying the way her body was heating up at his touch. “Especially when you’re a poor student and can’t afford the fancy kite cloth.”
“What’s the first thing you remember that made you truly happy?” Mike toyed with her hair.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re gonna think I’m just buttering you up. But it was that moment on the beach when you helped me get my first kite in the sky. I was four or five, but what I remember most is wriggling with joy at the sight of it taking off. I laughed at that bright red kite in the sky and you were so encouraging. Clapping and laughing right along with me. You made me feel like I could do anything.”
“You can. You do.” His smile widened, and he stroked her cheek with his knuckle. “You were cute as a shiny penny.”
“What about you?” she said. “What’s the first thing that made you truly happy?”
“Puppy,” he said. “Lassie. A collie. Yes, I wasn’t very creative with names at three.”
“I do remember Lassie. You’d taught her a bunch of tricks. Aww, that’s so sweet. How come you don’t have a dog now?”
“I’ve got two in the backyard.”
“Darynda’s dogs.”
“She’s given them to me,” he said.
“What? Why?” Gia curled her legs up underneath her on the couch. “Those dogs are like her children.”
“Don’t say anything to your sisters, it’s their business to tell, but she and your grandmother want to live together. Helen plans to move into Darynda’s place and leave the Moonglow Inn to you girls.”
“And they told you this, but not us?”
“Are you feeling hurt?” he asked.
“A little.”
“C’mon, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a friend or a neighbor than family. And it just came out because I was looking after the dogs.”
Gia didn’t know how she felt about that. She’d resolved in her mind how she’d be the one to nurse her grandmother through everything.
“Don’t look so stricken.” He cupped her cheek. “It’s what they want. They’re pleasing t
hemselves. Finally. You should do the same.”
“It’s not easy.” She played with the button on his shirt. “Letting go of a lifetime habit.”
“That’s where I come in.” One corner of his mouth quirked up and his eyes softened.
“How is that?”
“Helping you find out just what you want.”
God, he was saying all the right things. It felt so good being here with him. It felt inevitable. As if they’d been building toward this moment for years.
“In bed?” she asked.
“That’s a start.”
“What if we’re not good together like that?”
He reached out and rubbed her forehead with the pad of his thumb. “You worry too much.”
“Mike,” she said. “This is important. If things don’t work out in the bedroom, what will it do to our friendship?”
“Gia.” His thumb continued the rhythmic rubbing. “Stop worrying and just let yourself feel. Pay attention to what your body is telling you.”
Easy to say, really hard to do when her mind was spinning with all the ways this could go so wrong.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured.
Slowly, she let her eyelids flutter shut.
“Check your body. What are you feeling?”
“My heart is racing,” she admitted.
“Keep your eyes closed.” He took her hand and kissed her wrist, his mouth soft and damp against the throb of her pulse. “How about now?”
“My blood feels like liquid fire.”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“Yes, but in the best way possible.”
“Can you sit with that feeling without analyzing it? Just feel it and accept it for what it is?”
Lust? Yeah, she could accept that, embrace it even.
“So now,” he said, tugging her into his arms again. “Talk kitemaking to me.”
She partially opened one eye and peeked at him.
He was smiling at her.
“Why?”
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you talk about kites?”