by Tif Marcelo
Pearl had just sat down with Kayla and Trenton for their meal.
Kayla scrunched her eyebrows downward. “Is your sister having a party downstairs?”
“Not that I know of.” They all fell silent as Pearl focused her hearing, picking up a man’s and a woman’s voice. No, two women’s voices, elevated and shrill. “It sounds more like a fight than a party.”
“It doesn’t sound good,” Kayla said.
“I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response from Trenton or Kayla, she flew down the flight of stairs. A chaotic chorus of voices assaulted her senses, followed by the pounding of footsteps behind her and someone knocking on the front door. But Pearl took a deep breath to hold her nerves at bay, blocked out the noise, and followed the pool of light from Mari’s doorway.
Upon crossing the threshold, déjà vu knocked Pearl back ten years, to Mari’s smoke-filled college apartment. Her heart boomed in her ears as a scene unfolded in front of her, of a man hovering over Mari and Hazel. Mari shielding Hazel. The fear in her sister’s eyes became a catalyst, spurring Pearl to action. She would not cower this time. This time, she would be the one to make this better. She reached for the first thing she saw from the umbrella stand next to the front door: Pio’s Wiffle bat.
Shit. It would have to do. She held it up high and gave a warning. “Get off my sister!”
The man didn’t turn, so focused on wrenching Hazel from Mari.
Pearl reeled back and swung the stupid Wiffle bat with all her might.
twenty-nine
Mood: “All of Me” by John Legend
This year was the first Mari let Pio—or anyone, for that matter—take charge of the de la Rosa family summer solstice tradition: making handmade soft pretzels. The kid had handled the measuring, the kneading, the rolling, and soon, the baking. Admittedly, when Pio had thrown flour on the ground like a magician, Mari almost took control of the process, but she held tight to her resolution to loosen the apron strings. She was so proud of this little boy. When the time came for him to leave home, Pio was going to be able to cook for himself.
Pio dropped the twisted pretzel dough into the boiling water mixed with baking soda. When the plump dough floated to the top, he announced, “It’s ready!”
“Here you go.” Mari handed him the tongs, then grabbed the parchment-lined cookie sheet, with five already-dunked pretzels on it, from the kitchen island. Pio wrangled the sixth pretzel and plopped it onto the sheet.
“Okay, ready to stick it in the oven?” She turned off the burner. Using oven mitts, she pulled out the top rack.
He nodded and, with Mari’s help, settled the pan into the rack. After he shut the oven door and set the timer, he skipped to his aunt and mother outside in the backyard where they were container gardening, and threw himself into their midst.
Mari’s kitchen was a mess. The island was covered in flour. From the KitchenAid mixer hung leftover pieces of dough, and dishes from their early dinner filled the sink.
Still, as she wiped down the island and spied the most important people in her life, Mari was overcome with gratitude. She almost didn’t have this. She’d expected to have had only one sister in the business. After Brad’s assault a little over a month ago, she’d anticipated that drama would linger.
It hadn’t.
The shock had been enough for Hazel to file a restraining order and relocate to Florida with her mother. It had been enough for Pearl to decide to give all she had to Trenton. And it had been enough for Mari to then truly forgive herself.
Mari put a check mark next to pretzel-making on her calendar’s daily checklist, open in front of her on her vanity. She stared at the next item, her belly a ball of nerves:
Date with Reid.
Jane stood behind Mari and curled her hair, eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you didn’t write a checklist for tonight.”
“No, because I have no idea what should happen, or what I want to happen. I don’t even know what we’re going to talk about.” Mari bit her lip—good thing she’d waited to apply her lipstick. “Should I start with ‘Hey, so were you impressed with how my sister whacked your almost brother-in-law on the back?’ ”
Jane giggled. “Yeah. That is slightly awkward.” She lowered her voice. “ ‘Hey, uh, do you have a friend who needs a wedding planner? We do full-service, complete with private security utilizing only the very best military-grade Fisher-Price gear.’ ”
She laughed. “Dear God.”
“Right? But like any one of your lists: you’re going to take this date one step at a time.”
“One step at a time.”
After that chaotic night, Reid came by at first to update Mari on Hazel, and then to discuss the town house when he’d found a buyer. Their texts blossomed from one liners to sentences, to full on conversations about their daily schedule. They video-chatted twice when he was in Atlanta.
Mari knew he’d wanted more; the hope was in his eyes, in his voice. He was patient, and when she had been ready to take the next step, she’d sent him a rose this time. His date invitation came quickly afterward.
“I see a car!” Pearl yelled from the kitchen.
Mari’s legs jiggled with nervousness. She stood from the chair and accepted the lipstick from Jane. Applied it with precision despite her shaking fingers. She fixed her shirt against the mirror and tucked strands of her hair behind her ears.
“What if he tries to hold my hand?” she asked, then felt utterly foolish. She smiled weakly. “Is this stupid, going out with him?”
“Absolutely not.” Jane gently ushered her out of her bedroom.
Mari expected Reid to be in the living room, but only Pearl and Pio were in her apartment. “Where is he?”
Pearl spoke up. “In the foyer.”
“You didn’t let him in?”
“Um. No. This is your first date.” Pearl crossed her arms.
Mari rushed to the front door and opened it to Reid, who had a sheepish smile on his face. “Hi,” he said.
“Sorry about that. Ready to go?”
Pearl yelled from behind, “Get her home on time, Mr. Quaid.”
“Really?” Mari whined, then shut the door behind her.
“We’re staying up until you get home!” Pearl’s voice echoed from the other side.
“Pearl!”
“It’s okay,” Reid said. “I’m up for whatever you de la Rosas dish out.” He held out his elbow. “Speaking of dish, are you ready to eat your heart out at your first DC Metro Food Tour, Ms. de la Rosa?”
One step at a time. Mari linked her arm with his.
“I’m ready.”
thirty
Mood: “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé
Hey, slugger.” Kayla entered Rings & Roses with a to-go cup of coffee in each hand. “Break time for you.”
Pearl rolled her eyes at her friend’s nickname for her and met her in the foyer. “If you weren’t handing me a red eye right now, I would totally be disrespectful.”
“As long as there isn’t a bat around, I’m not worried about it.”
The shop’s newest interns snickered, each loaded with boxes of decorations and favors. Though only seven in the morning, it was full speed ahead for the Bling wedding this afternoon. The entire shop was dedicated to today’s event, closed to retail customers. Her sisters had their marching orders on what needed to be accomplished before they descended on the Thatched Roof Winery. Her parents, who’d decided to visit through September this year, also had jumped into the chaos, volunteering to help in any way.
“Hey, mind your own business,” Pearl cackled to the staff, jovially. It had been more than a year since she’d walloped Brad, but she was never going to live it down.
Admittedly, she didn’t mind the teasing. That night had been a defining moment for her. The growth she’d experienced since then had been a whirlwind, from her official promotion to full-time wedding planner and chief of marketing, to today, the Bling wedding, which had been dubbed the “b
iggest wedding of this year” among DC’s elite. Most important, that night, she’d learned to be part of a team with her sisters, with her best friend, and with her boyfriend. Together, they could take on anything.
“You know? I can totally tell when you’re thinking about my brother.” Kayla led the way outside. She had night shifts at the hospital, which meant she was free during the day. She’d known that Pearl was nervous about this wedding; it had been the only thing she’d gabbed about the last two months. Since their fight, they’d made more time for best friend dates, even for coffee.
“Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“Do you have time for a quick breakfast? I know you’ll be hungry by ten a.m.”
She glanced at her watch and surveyed the commotion in the shop. “I guess I could go for something quick.”
“There’s a food truck near the square. Wanna try it? It’s a transplant truck from San Francisco called Lucianna. Ruby’s sister-in-law’s cousin-in-law owns it.”
“Sister-in-law’s cousin-in-law?”
She waved a hand. “I know. I don’t get it either. The skinny is that her husband is an Army officer who works at the Pentagon, and she drove that truck clear across the country. She’s serving breakfast paninis.”
Pearl raised her eyebrows, stomach growling at the thought. “Breakfast paninis? Take me to it.”
They walked the four blocks toward the square, though it only took two blocks to see the behemoth of a parked truck. There was a line, a good sign. As they neared, Pearl noticed a trail of red.
“Where did all these . . . rose petals on the ground come from?” Pearl asked, distracted by them.
“Hmm, let’s follow them.”
Pearl glanced at her best friend, suspicious at the faraway tone to her voice. “Kayla?”
“Go with it.” She linked an arm around Pearl’s elbow.
“Okay.” Pearl dragged a half step behind her, following the trail of rose petals to the front walkway of the Carlyle House of Old Town, where Trenton was standing. Behind him were her sisters and Pio and her parents. Reid. Marco. Gabe. Calvin. Ruby and Levi. And Mr. and Mrs. Young, who she hadn’t seen in months.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, hesitant to take a step.
Kayla nudged her friend. “Go on. It’s time.”
In the past, Pearl had been dubious at the idea that people hadn’t a clue that they were going to be proposed to.
Yet here she was. Pearl hadn’t known, not even when Trenton handed her a piece of paper with her picture on it.
“Trenton?” Her voice shook, eyes darting to the crowd around them. “What’s going on? What’s this?”
“It’s my email from Love Unlimited,” he said. “I had the printed email with me that night when we all made up. You were my match, too.”
“That was over a year ago.”
“It feels like yesterday.” He dropped to one knee and retrieved a black velvet box from his pocket.
Pearl’s lungs ceased to function.
“One night over a year ago, I walked you home. It was the first time we’d been alone together in years, and you asked me if there was anything wrong with wanting to be seen. That night, I told you that I saw you, and I was telling the truth. But what I didn’t say was that I felt it in my core that you saw me, too.”
He opened the box, revealing a vintage princess-cut diamond banked by square baguettes.
“I knew that night, Pearl. And now I humbly ask: In love and in friendship, will you be my one and only?” His eyes glistened, lips turned up into a smile.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Pearl gasped, doubling over in joy and in tears. She dropped to both knees, lips meeting his for a long kiss. “Past, present, and future.”
After the fanfare of the Bling wedding was no longer underfoot, Pearl’s sisters brought her champagne. They sat on dainty white chairs under a castle-like white tent, looking out into darkness dotted by stars and a high full moon. Scratch that—her sisters were looking out at the view. Pearl couldn’t stop staring at her ring. It was Trenton’s grandmother’s, an heirloom. Priceless.
Jane raised her glass. “Congratulations, Pearl. For an immaculately executed wedding, and for the next chapter: us planning yours.”
Their glasses met in the middle, Pearl’s face warm from adrenaline and pride. She sipped her champagne and reveled in what the next year would bring. New clients, a wedding of her own. Maybe a home of her own.
“I have something for you guys.” Mari pulled two small boxes from a bag next to her and passed them out.
“I didn’t know we were doing gifts,” Jane said.
“Not a gift. More like an office necessity, part of our standard operating procedures.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? Is this really the time to talk about procedures? I swear, Ate.”
Pearl groaned, though part of her was unsurprised.
“Just open it,” Mari said, deadpan.
Pearl opened the box and gasped. Inside was a skeleton key—the cherished key. She looked up; Jane had taken hers out, too.
“It took a while to find a craftsman to cast the key that Mommy gave me when they left,” Mari said.
Pearl teared up, understanding this significance. Of Mari truly letting go. Of sharing the baton. She reached across to Mari’s hand and gripped it.
Her ate squeezed back. “Rings and Roses belongs to each one of us. Without you all, there wouldn’t be any of this . . . this happily ever after for our clients. It’s only right for each of you to have a key, too. It’s only right, because our family is my key.”
Jane put her hand over both of theirs. “And so is mine.”
“Mine, too,” Pearl said, as sure of them as of the ring on her finger.
They were women who bloomed with different strengths, who had varying shades of personalities and unique souls, who had thorns of imperfections. But they would always be sisters.
Sisters who had finally found the keys to their happily ever afters.
acknowledgments
The de la Rosa girls were born from my love for my soul sisters: women who I’ve met and bonded with over the years, women who I’ve grown to rely on and hope I’ve been there for. Thank you for raising me, for opening your homes and lives to me, for coming into mine without judgment. I thought of you lovingly as I wrote Marisol, Janelyn, Pearl, Amelia, Regina, Kayla, Hazel, Ruby, and Daphne. You know who you are. In case I haven’t said it in words: I love you.
Deepest thanks to my publisher, Jennifer Bergstrom, and editor, Kate Dresser, for the opportunity to tell this story. Kate, you know exactly how to push, how much to give, how much to ask. Thank you for taking this step with me. Rachel Brooks, cheerleader and agent: you are absolutely *the best*. The entire Gallery team, especially Molly Gregory, Christine Masters, the art department, and the marketing and publicity teams, thank you for bringing Key to the world! I appreciate each and every one of you! Publicist Kristin Dwyer of LEO PR: you are a gem! I’m lucky to have met you on this journey.
My girls: Stephanie Winkelhake, April Hunt, Annie Rains, Rachel Lacey, and Sidney Halston. Writer’s coach Nina Crespo. Ladies of the #Thermostat crew. My early-morning writer’s group #5amwritersclub. #TeamBrooks. Tall Poppy Writers. How lucky I have been to connect with all of you—you have my heart.
Amie Otto of Amie Otto Photography and Lauren Hidalgo: thank you for answering my SOS! To Sara Bauleke of Bella Notte for being a critical resource in the writing of this book. All mistakes are purely mine.
To the readers and bloggers who have recommended my books, who have reached out and given me encouragement: you fuel my fire!
To my fabulous four: yes, you may read this book before you’re of legal age. Thank you for inspiring me with your sibling love and conflict. Also for not minding eating pizza and cereal for dinner. Finally, to Greg, always steadfast, a reed against the waves: twenty years together went by in a minute despite our own anxiety-filled wedding. Thank you for holding the key to my happily ever
after.
More from the Author
West Coast Love
East in Paradise
North to You
about the author
FRANCHESCA COLE
TIF MARCELO believes in and writes about heart-eyes romance, the strength of families, and the endurance of friendship. A craft enthusiast and food-lover, Tif is a veteran Army Nurse and holds a Bachelor of Science in Nursing and a Master of Public Administration, and is inspired daily by her own military hero and four children.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Tif-Marcelo
SimonandSchuster.com
Facebook.com/GalleryBooks
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.