The Summer Retreat

by Sheila Roberts

  “Our champagne for the wedding toast,” Celeste said sadly. “There’s nothing to toast now.”

  “Sure there is,” Pete said, sinking down on a log. “To the next time.”

  If there ever was a next time.

  “That’s an excellent toast, Pete,” said Aunt Edie, who’d brought along a bag filled with plastic cups.

  “Well said,” Brody agreed. “Fill ’em up.”

  They all toasted to the non-bride’s future and sat around the fire, sharing tales of romantic misadventures.

  “You should’ve seen the old bat I almost married before I came here,” Pete said, shaking his head. “She was a real harridan. Lucky escape.”

  “For which one of you?” Jenna murmured.

  Celeste wasn’t up for giggling but it did make her smile.

  “In the end, things have a way of working out just as they should,” said her mother. “Don’t worry, darling. Your story’s not over yet.”

  Story... Henry. What was Henry doing tonight? Probably typing away, murdering someone.

  And Paul. He’d been so kind and understanding. What was he doing?

  * * *

  Paul sat in his house, staring out the living room window at the night sky. By now he and Celeste would have been on their way to Seattle to spend the night in the pricey hotel he’d reserved. A wedding night in Seattle, followed by a stay in Icicle Falls; they’d both been excited about it. At least he thought they had.

  James, his music director and best man, had canceled the reservations for him and taken away his tux, promising to return it to the formal-wear shop in nearby Quinault first thing in the morning. No wedding night, no honeymoon, no wife, no future, all thanks to Hyacinth Brown.

  Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. He’d preached on that Bible verse before. It sure was easier to preach about than to do. He was still angry with Hyacinth. He was entertaining very un-pastor-like thoughts of bopping her on the head with one of her flower vases. Where did she get off telling people they shouldn’t get married? Since when had she become a marriage counselor? What did she know about him or Celeste?

  More to the point, why did she do it?

  Someone knocked on the door. He didn’t get up to answer it. Go away.

  But he hadn’t locked the door and the person came in. James, his best man. “Thought I’d see how you’re doing,” he said.

  “I feel like I’ve been sucker punched but I’ll live.”

  James took a seat on the couch. “Sucks to have this happen.”

  Thank God he didn’t quote any Bible verses or try to cheer Paul up by reminding him that everything worked together for good. Paul would have had a psychotic break and decked him.

  “Why did she do it?” he asked his friend.

  “Which she are you talking about?”

  Paul gave a grunt. Good question. “I meant Hyacinth.”

  “That’s a no-brainer. She’s crazy about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed the way she looks at you.”

  “Uh, no.” Hyacinth was the woman who helped out around church, decorating, doing flowers, volunteering at the food bank and with food booths during town celebrations. She was nice enough, quiet, not bad-looking, but not the kind of woman you noticed when she walked into a room. Not like Celeste.

  Celeste. The very thought of her made his chest ache.

  “Well, she is,” James said. “Not that she did what she did ’cause she was jealous or anything. I think she really felt like she was saving you from making a mistake.”

  “She saved me, all right,” Paul said bitterly.

  “I’d say something like ‘it could be worse,’ but I’m not sure how. I bet you’re gonna get a great sermon out of this, though.”

  “Oh, well, then, it was all worth it,” Paul said with a sarcastic shrug. Maybe he’d convert to Catholicism and become a priest. No women, no marriages and no being left at the altar.

  * * *

  Celeste was plagued with dreams on her non-wedding night. In one, Paul came after her with a gun in one hand and a copy of Henry’s book in the other. He took a shot at her, but missed, and she dreamed on to find herself walking on the beach in the moonlight. There was Henry in the distance. She called to him and waved. He turned to look at her, then walked away and vanished in the mist. Oh, yeah, happy dreams. At least he hadn’t tried to cut her up with a hunting knife. She still didn’t know where that dream had come from.

  “Come on, get dressed,” Jenna said when Celeste finally staggered down to the kitchen in her bathrobe in search of morning coffee. “Let’s clean some rooms and then take Mom out to lunch before she goes home.”

  “Here?” Go out in public the day after her wedding disaster?

  “We can drive over to Westhaven.”

  “Good idea.”

  Spending the day with her mother and sister and her niece, who all made sure to say nothing whatsoever about the previous night, went a long way toward making her feel like maybe her life would go on.

  “I love you, Aunt Celeste,” Sabrina said, threading her arms through Celeste’s as they walked along the waterfront. “I hope you find the right man.”

  She’d have better luck finding a unicorn eating a four-leaf clover.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Life went on. Celeste bit the bullet and showed up at church the next week.

  Jenna had convinced her that nobody was going to be judging her and that the person being hardest on her was herself. “Come and get it over with,” she’d urged.

  Get it over with. Her sister had made it sound like they were talking about a trip to the dentist or getting a mammogram. Celeste had known she had to face Paul sooner or later but she hadn’t been excited about the prospect of doing it in a church filled with people. Of course, she hadn’t been excited about seeing him anywhere. But she was still in Moonlight Harbor and so was he, and they needed to get past their wedding disaster. So although she would’ve preferred later, she’d sucked it up, thrown on some clothes and let her sister drag her off to church. Resolution was good for the soul. No, wait, that was confession. Well, resolution was good, too.

  She walked in bracing for surreptitious and scornful looks. Instead, she received hugs and words of encouragement.

  Even Susan Frank, the town’s resident pill, offered her consolation. “Better safe than sorry,” she said.

  Safe. Was that what you called it? Safe sure felt crappy.

  She was standing with Jenna and Tyrella when she saw Hyacinth edging toward her. Celeste felt in sudden need of antacid. The woman hadn’t said a word to her yet and Celeste was already embarrassed. And she didn’t know which one of them she was more embarrassed for.

  Hyacinth was dressed for kicking off the holiday season, wearing a red wool coat and a patterned red scarf over her black sweater and slacks. She’d put on a red wool beret and actually looked almost glamorous. Except for the fact that her cheeks were the color of her scarf.

  “Um, Celeste, could I talk to you for a minute?” she asked timidly.

  She had no idea what to say to this woman. Thanks for that little speech last Saturday night. Or Looks like you were right all along. Or You bitch. She clamped her lips shut as they stepped away from the others and waited for Hyacinth to take responsibility for the first words.

  “I’m really sorry,” Hyacinth said, tears rising in her eyes. “I...” She stopped and bit her lip.

  Embarrassed us all? Ruined my life?

  But she hadn’t. Ruined Celeste’s wedding, yes, but no one had forced her to end things and flee back down the aisle. She’d done that all on her own. She was alone now because of the choice she’d made, pure and simple. But it had been the best choice for both of them. She was sure of it. Hyacinth had acted as a catalyst, nothing more. It wasn’t fair to blame her for what had happened.

  She could
have forced Hyacinth to sweat it out, trying to come up with the words she was desperately searching for, could have paid her back for the scene she’d made by making her grovel. But that wouldn’t have been fair, either, especially considering the fact that the woman had actually saved her and Paul from taking a giant misstep.

  “You know what. It’s okay.”

  Hyacinth looked at Celeste as if she’d just grown a halo. “Really?”

  “Really. I meant what I said that night. You were right. I just couldn’t admit it. I thought I was sure, but if I’d been really sure, I’d have gone over and bitch-slapped you and then gone on with the ceremony.”

  Hyacinth looked momentarily shocked, then she smiled. “You really aren’t right for him.”

  Celeste smiled, too. “No, I’m not. He’s all yours.”

  The red invaded Hyacinth’s cheeks again. “That’s not what I meant...”

  Celeste patted her arm. “It’s okay. I hope it eventually works out for you guys.”

  Still blushing furiously, Hyacinth nodded and scuttled away.

  “You handled that well,” Jenna said.

  “You were listening?”

  “Of course. You didn’t notice me scooting closer? Come on, let’s go in.”

  The service started and Celeste found herself suddenly feeling antsy. Maybe she should have stayed home. Maybe it would have been better to run into Paul in the grocery store. Or not at all. Perhaps it would be best, after all, if she left town.

  Except she’d been enjoying substituting at the local grade school and middle school. She liked the kids. And she was happy being with her sister. Moonlight Harbor was feeling more and more like home. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her and Victor King, who really was a nice man.

  Oh, yeah, bring out the checklist and rush into another relationship with a man who’s not The One. And piss off Courtney, while you’re at it.

  She frowned and tried to concentrate on the music.

  It ended all too soon and there stood Paul in front of everyone, looking great in his jeans and dress shirt—untucked, of course, the current style for all hip, young pastors. Celeste’s heart became restless, pacing around in her rib cage. She squirmed in her seat.

  “Hello, everyone. It’s good to see you all here this morning.” He smiled, letting his gaze roam the congregation. Then he saw Celeste and the smile faltered. He cleared his throat. “Now that Advent is here, it’s time to turn our thoughts to the reason we celebrate Christmas. And today I want to talk about those shepherds on the hill, who heard the angels proclaiming, ‘Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.’ That was God’s message to us. He wanted us to experience true peace of mind. Sometimes, that can be hard to achieve. I bet some of you were wondering about my peace of mind last week.”

  This produced some nervous titters and a few glances in Celeste’s direction. She felt like a big old chestnut roasting on an open fire. Oh, yeah. Good idea to come to church.

  She slumped down in her seat, wishing she was invisible, and shot a look to where Hyacinth was sitting. Once more, Hyacinth’s face matched her red scarf.

  Two embarrassed women for the price of one. Not cool, Paul.

  “But I want to tell you all that the message of hope hasn’t changed. It’s still there. It’s always there. God always wants the best for us, and we need to want the best for each other, as well.” Then he looked directly at Celeste and smiled. “I want the best for everyone here.”

  She managed to smile back, even though her face was still burning. She did want the best for him. And maybe she and Hyacinth together had freed him to find it.

  It was hard to remain after the service but she forced herself to, Jenna and Tyrella both standing next to her for moral support. But when Paul finally approached they moved a respectful distance away.

  “I do want the best for you, you know,” Celeste said to him.

  “I know.”

  “And I think Hyacinth does, too.” May as well put in a good word for the other woman. Christmas was just around the corner, after all, and it was never too soon to show that Christmas spirit.

  He nodded and took her hand. “I wish you’d change your mind.”

  “It’s probably a good thing all our wishes don’t come true.” She sighed. “Oh, Paul, you are the most incredible man.”

  He made a face. “Said the woman who left me at the altar.”

  “For your own good. For mine, as well.”

  He nodded again, taking that in. “Was it the other guy?”

  She didn’t pretend not to know who he was talking about. “Probably. Although it’s too late for that.”

  “Part of me hopes that’s true,” he said with a smile. “But that’s not the noble part. I do hope you find what you’re looking for, Celeste.”

  So did she, but she had her doubts.

  * * *

  Okay, he’d survived talking with Celeste. Barely. His gut hurt and he didn’t want to talk to any more of his congregation. He wanted to go home and watch football on TV, stay inside his house for the rest of his week. The rest of the year. The rest of his life.

  You’ll get past this, he reassured himself. His dad had told him as much before he and Mom left town. His parents had been high school sweethearts. Dad wasn’t exactly an expert on rebounding from rejection.

  At the rate he was going, Paul would be. And oh, no. Here came Hyacinth. The smile he was faking refused to stick around.

  “Hyacinth,” he greeted her curtly. Yeah, very pastoral. He reminded himself to remember what he’d just preached.

  “Pastor, I...” She stumbled to a halt.

  So many things he wanted to say to her. What were you thinking? Isn’t there some other church you could go to? Some other man’s life you’d like to ruin? He corralled the words, determined not to let anything he’d regret escape.

  She blinked, cleared her throat and tried again. “I know you’re really mad at me.”

  No. Now, why would I be mad at you?

  “But I...” Suddenly, her eyes flashed, showing him a Hyacinth he’d never seen before. “I’m sorry. If you think I liked standing up and making a fool of myself in front of everyone, you’re crazy.”

  People were beginning to look their way. He frowned, took her arm and led her to a corner of the foyer. “No one made you stand up. No one forced you to say what you did.”

  “No one but me. I had to do it. And not just because...because I care for you but because, well, I care for you and I don’t want you to be miserable.”

  “I was pretty happy before you saved me from being miserable,” he said.

  “Of course you were. Your big crush hadn’t worn off yet. You were stupid in love.” Her eyes popped open wide, registering the same shock he was feeling. “Oh, I’m messing this up. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry, that I didn’t do what I did to make you miserable.”

  Well, you did.

  “Except I’d rather see you miserable now than even more miserable later.”

  “Hyacinth, you had no way of knowing I’d be miserable later.”

  Her chin shot up. “Oh? I think I did.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  “Because she didn’t go through with it. If I was wrong, she wouldn’t have listened to a word I said. She’d have bit—slapped me. She’d have told me I was all wrong and to mind my own business and that there was no other man on the planet she wanted to be with more than you.”

  Ow. That hurt. But there it was in a nutshell. He’d been sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that Celeste was the woman for him. She’d proved him wrong when she rejected him.

  He took a deep breath and let it out. Then he nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Can you forgive me?” Hyacinth asked in a small voice.

  “I’m working on it.” And maybe, after this conversation, he needed to work
a little harder. “Give me time, okay?”

  “I’ll give you all the time you want,” she said softly, then hurried away, ducking out the door without talking to anyone else.

  He watched her go. He had to admit that what she’d done had taken real guts.

  * * *

  Everyone survived the misery and awkwardness of the big breakup. Jenna was as good as her word and helped Celeste return everyone’s shower presents, leaving them free to turn their attention to the upcoming holiday celebrations. Unlike the year before, the Seaside with Santa festival, which was held on the second weekend in December, was blessed with good weather. Some of the Driftwood Inn’s visitors from the previous year returned, including Darrell Wilson and his wife, Kat. She was in scarves again, an obvious sign that the cancer was back.

  “We’re not giving up,” Darrell told Celeste and Jenna, and Celeste hoped their determination would be rewarded.

  Their favorite crazy sisters, Karen and Lisa, were back, too, and everyone gathered in Aunt Edie’s living room for a reunion. Taylor Marsh was there, as well, with her husband and little girl, excited to announce that she’d sold her third house since moving to Moonlight Harbor.

  “Brody’s a great mentor,” she said.

  “I’m great at a lot of things,” said Brody, who’d invited himself to the party. He waggled his eyebrows at Jenna, who simply smiled and shook her head, and Celeste knew that before the evening was over he’d be catching her under the mistletoe Aunt Edie had hung in the entryway. Heaven only knew where Seth would catch her, but it was a sure bet he’d get in a kiss, too, before the New Year began.

  Celeste rode on the Driftwood Inn float in the festival parade, this time in a nice warm coat and mittens. So much easier to wave at the crowd when your arm wasn’t frozen stiff.

  Christmas came, and the family gathered to exchange presents. Celeste told herself she was content to simply be with her family.

  But even surrounded by people she loved, she felt empty. What was that myth about Zeus feeling humans were too powerful and cutting them in half? The two halves then had to spend their lifetimes searching for their other half. She felt that was what she’d been doing her whole adult life. Paul had been a great guy, but he hadn’t been her other half. Was Henry? If so, she’d sure done a good job of losing him forever.