Riches & Rags: Things are seldom as they seem.

  Liam sighs and takes my hand. “I wasn’t crazy about you…getting all that money.”

  “Why?” I ask, frowning. I mean, I know Liam is a minimalist and he thought it would bring bad energy to go after Micky, or whatever he meant. Still, to hear him say this is unexpected.

  “I thought it would change you. Money changes people. I’ve seen it all my life. I didn’t want you to become like that—shallow and…preoccupied.”

  I gaze at Liam’s honest face and consider what he’s said.

  “I haven’t changed. I was that shallow person before, before we lost the money. And I know what money can do to people too. But now, my eyes are open; and all that material stuff—it doesn’t have the same meaning it once did.” I shrug. “It’s one day at a time. I can’t say I’ll ever adopt your lifestyle, I mean with kids it’s hard. But I have my priorities straight, now.”

  Liam’s face blossoms into a broad smile, and he nods. “I know you do, love. And when I saw you, I knew you hadn’t changed.” Liam pulls me forward into his arms, and I raise my head to smile. Instead, soft lips descend on mine.

  Liam’s kissing me!

  His mouth is tender and passionate, and after waiting so long, I melt into him—until someone clears their throat. We ignore it, but when we’re interrupted a second time, we reluctantly pull away. It’s the minister. He gives us a jolly smile.

  “Is there another set of wedding vows you would like me to read this afternoon?”

  I meet Liam’s eyes in surprise, and we break into giggles. Hand in hand, we leave the minister chuckling to himself and burst out of the church doors together and into the glorious sunshine.

  “What a lovely wedding,” Juliet says, her face aglow from candles flickering on the table.

  George nods in agreement and surveys the barn, which has been converted into an ideal setting for a country wedding. Exposed, rustic beams span the room overhead and tulle adorns the pillars. The tables are decorated with white linens, flickering candles, and beautiful floral arrangements courtesy of Lane’s cousin. What a fine affair. And Lane’s Dad—though a bit of an oddball with that talking dummy and all—is having the time of his life, grinning at his new bride and looking like the happiest man on this planet.

  George continues to survey the room, then turns to his companion sitting at his side. “Juliet, are you happy living in my home and caring for me? Because, if you’d like to rethink this elder-care scenario—”

  “Of course I am,” she says, turning to him with wide eyes. “And especially now that you’ve been so kind as to let me open a senior’s yoga studio in your ballroom—well I can’t imagine any other place I’d rather work. Or live,” she adds with a radiant smile.

  What a nice girl.

  Half a year ago, George was secluded and somewhat of a bitter old man, forgotten and alone, living a mundane life, and reliving his happy days only in his mind. And now he has a life with meaning. Funny how one thing leads to another, how deciding to do something as ordinary as mowing the lawn can result in a chance encounter that can blossom and grow into what his life is now. It’s all thanks to that unsinkable Lane Carson and her amusing and often infuriating ways.

  He sits back with a satisfied sigh and basks in this moment. No more dwelling on the past or wishing his days away. He’s going to cling to this new life with all his might, and never let go.

  “Welcome everyone, and thank you so very much for sharing this wonderful day with Louisa and me. We couldn’t be more grateful for your love and support. Without further ado, I’d like to propose a toast to my dear Louisa.” Dad raises his glass to his new wife. Louisa is seated at the head table, her joyful face beaming back at him.

  “Since meeting you at the age of seventeen, you have always been here for me and for my family. Initially, as the shy twin of my dear late wife, Leia, and then you became a good friend as the years passed. Our children were raised together and our paths intertwined.” Dad pauses, and a shadow passes across his face. He looks momentarily lost, and I catch his eye and nod for him to continue. I know what’s coming next. He nods back and takes a quivering breath.

  “When our lives shattered into pieces the day we lost the dearest person to us, somehow you were able to summon the strength to care for me as you cared for yourself. And over the years, our friendship and our bond blossomed into a very true and deep love.”

  Dad’s voice cracks and he pulls a ball of tissues from of his pocket and blows his nose with a loud honk, which is amplified by the microphone. Billy catches my eye and stifles a giggle. Dad honks again and continues.

  “I no longer feel lost. I no longer am the shadow of my former self, as I have been for years. I am joyful and present and alive. And I have you to thank. Louisa, I promise to love you dearly, to be there for you no matter what the road ahead shall be. I promise to be faithful, and to encourage you and cherish you for as long as I am alive.”

  Louisa beams at him through her tears. She’s hard to take seriously with Riley on her lap, but still, there’s not a dry eye in the room.

  “To Louisa.”

  “To Louisa,” we all echo, raising our glasses. Dad returns to our table, kisses his bride, and lifts Riley into his arms. I drain my glass and glance over to Liam, who is seated at another table and engaged in a conversation with George. Both men break into chuckles, and I find myself smiling.

  I still cannot believe Liam is back in my life. Moreover, I was able to gain closure with Micky, and the girls are okay, and we may have a new home soon. And I booked another audition—this time for a TV pilot. I am so incredibly blessed. This feels like a dream. The fairy lights twinkle with the flickering candles, and outside the vast windows, the setting sun illuminates the country sky in a brilliant burst of violet and fuchsia. Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” begins to play, and Dad and Louisa join together for the first dance. We all gaze starry-eyed at the happy couple who have fought so hard to overcome their grief. Now, we celebrate with them. When the song ends, Liam appears and takes my hand, leading me onto the dance floor, where Shania Twain belts out “From This Moment On.” We glide across the dance floor like characters in a fairy tale.

  Liam glances over my shoulder and grins, and I spin around to see Elsa holding Margo and Rory’s hands, dancing in a circle with them. Margo and Rory are staring up into Elsa’s face with a pure joy only children possess—though Elsa’s seems to be on the same wavelength. Who would have ever thought CruElsa could turn out to be an ally?

  Most of the guests have now found their way onto the dance floor. I’m somewhat embarrassed, but not surprised, to see Dad spinning around with Riley in his arms.

  “Hey! Elaine,” Riley’s voice screeches, like a dying cat in my ear, “ya wanna slow dance with me?”

  I roll my eyes at him and mutter, “Not a chance.”

  Then, I turn back to Liam and rest my head on his chest. And when I do, I feel like I’ve come home.

  35

  “Hey toots, who decides to go sailing in freakin’ February? I’m freezing my ass off.”

  “You don’t have an ass, and watch your mouth in front of my kids,” I snap.

  “Pops, weren’t you going to send Riley away?” Margo asks, as I clip the final buckle on her life jacket.

  “Okay, you girls are set,” I say.

  “That’s a good question, Margo,” Dad says, and he passes Riley to Margo, who gingerly accepts, her eyes wide in wonder. “You see, Riley really missed New York. And I want him to be happy. But when it came to sending him away on the plane, well…”

  “You just couldn’t do it,” I say. We make our way down the dock at the Granville Island Marina. Okay, dock F, and we’re looking for stall 67.

  “He couldn’t do it,” Louisa says, giving me a private smile.

  Oh, Dad. At least he tried.

  “Well, maybe next time,” I say, hopefully. Though, okay, I must be completely honest and say that Riley has kind of grown on me; or, at least I’ve gotten used to
him. It. Wait, what did I just admit?

  “I don’t think there will be a next time,” Dad says. “See, Riley felt the same way. He didn’t want to leave either; though we are planning a family trip to New York this summer.”

  “I can send you,” I say. “But then, you’ll need a passport for Riley,” I add. And to my amusement, Dad looks thoughtful. So Riley is here to stay, after all.

  “Too chicken to fly alone there, Riley?” I ask.

  Margo lifts Riley’s body so he’s not dragging on the ground. “Yes, toots,” she says for him in a freakish voice, and Rory squeals with laughter.

  “Here she is,” I say, enchanted. The gleaming forty-foot Beneteau sailboat floats in her berth. “This will definitely do.”

  “That’s a small boat,” Margo says, eyeing it with a look of uncertainty.

  “You only think it’s small because you were used to Victory, but being aboard Victory was like going on a cruise ship. It was more like a floating hotel. This will be a completely different experience.”

  “How wonderful,” Louisa says, running her hand along the hull.

  I kneel down beside Rory. “Do you like the boat?” I ask.

  Rory nods and claps her hands.

  “Uncle Billy and John are here,” Margo squeals. Sure enough, Billy and John are making their way down the dock toward us.

  “Nice ride!” Billy cries. “Impeccable taste as always, Laney.”

  “Thanks. But I didn’t buy it. I’m just chartering it for the afternoon. I always wanted to sail and, well, now we can.”

  We load the boat with all the goodies for an afternoon feast, as well as everyone’s bags and coats. Billy passes Rory to me, and then helps Margo aboard, and I seat the girls side by side in the cockpit.

  “You little ladies are going to love this.”

  “Who else is coming, Lane?” Louisa asks, as Billy helps her aboard.

  “Liam is coming with George and Juliet.”

  “Oh, lovely,” she says, looking pleased.

  “You must be excited about that audition, Lane,” John says, his eyes sparkling.

  “I am. The thought that—though the chances are small—the pilot could actually get picked up is really exciting.”

  “Yes…but first you have to get the part,” John says, raining on my parade.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Where’s Liam? I reach for my phone as I peer down the dock, but then I see three figures headed our way, the one in the middle moving gingerly.

  “They’re here,” I say. I watch George as they approach. He looks well. He’s still slow of course, being in his eighties. His coloring is good though, and he actually looks…happy!

  Grumpy old George is happy.

  I wave as Liam finally spots us and points to our boat for George to see. I can see George’s eyes light up and he picks up his pace.

  “Hi guys,” I call over.

  “What a beauty.” George runs his gnarled hands along the fiberglass body and whistles. It is a stunning boat, painted onyx with white accents.

  “Glad you like it, Captain,” I say, as Liam locks a solid arm through George’s and escorts him aboard.

  “What do you mean, Captain? I was an admiral.”

  “Yes, but today you’re Captain,” I say, tossing him the keys. Sure enough George’s reflexes are still sharp as hell, and his arm springs out to catch them.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Come on, let’s get going.” I motion to the helm where a massive steering wheel sits, gleaming and capable.

  “I haven’t sailed a boat for years—”

  “It’ll be like riding a bike,” I say with a wave. “Ah, there she is,” I add. “Now we can go.”

  “Hey, that’s Denise,” Margo cries, pointing. I grin at her and wave.

  “Yes, it is Denise.” Denise, our wonderful maid who cared for me and stayed to pack when she didn’t have to. “She’s going to work with our family again.”

  As it turns out, Denise had been working for a maid service and wasn’t enjoying it at all. And this time around, she’ll be with the children part time and do domestic activities the rest of the time. I’m so grateful for the extra hand, now that I’ll be busy with the business at least twenty hours a week.

  “Hello, Ms. Carson,” she says, as John extends her a hand.

  “Hi, Denise, glad you could come.”

  “Ready, Lane?” George asks, the key poised at the ignition.

  “Ay, ay,” I confirm, and the boat purrs to life.

  “Can we eat?” Margo asks.

  “Sure, I’ll go make something,” I say and descend into the cabin.

  “I can help,” both Denise and Juliet offer.

  “No, you guys relax,” I say.

  I listen to the bustling of activity as George, assuming the role of captain, shouts out orders and Liam unties the boat and pushes it off. George expertly maneuvers her, like I knew he would, and we glide effortlessly through False Creek.

  I slice fresh bagels from Siegel’s and cream cheese them, adding lox and dollops of caviar. Yum. I prepare half a dozen bagels, just as a snack for now, and pass them around the cockpit. Beer and wine are poured, and we all relish in the moment as the boat glides across the harbor and under the Granville Street Bridge.

  We sail past Kitsilano on the port side and the West End beaches on the starboard as we head out into English bay. Margo and Rory are eating their bagels, cream cheese adorning their little noses. They seem delighted by the adventure and are adorable in their puffy life jackets, fine hair blowing.

  Dad is seated beside them, with Louisa on his other side and Riley sprawled on their laps. And of course, Riley is wearing a life jacket too. Louisa takes Dad’s hand as she gazes out at the ocean, a content look on her face.

  On the other side of the cockpit, Billy and John are having an animated exchange. John says something and Billy howls, throwing his head back in laughter. I smile too, not knowing what the hell was said, but not having to. It’s great to see Billy happy, and to see him with someone so compatible.

  When Denise starts chatting with Margo, Rory toddles over to her with her cream cheese fingers—but Denise is ready with napkin in hand.

  George stands at the helm, eyes skimming the waters. “It’s a plate of piss,” I hear him say. I smirk in amusement, thinking that must be a navel expression. George is right at home, the captain of the ship, and I can’t help feeling pleased for him. Juliet, at his side, occasionally points to various landmarks, checks the depth sounder, and keeps George company.

  And Liam sits at the stern of the boat, behind George, staring off into the distance, a peaceful expression adorning his beautiful features. I gingerly make my way around everyone and over to Liam.

  “Hi, love,” he says, slipping an arm around my waist. “What a fantastic idea to sail today.”

  “Who would have thought the weather would turn out so balmy?” I say.

  “Well, the cherry blossoms are starting, so in a way spring is here,” Liam says with a grin, brushing a quick kiss on my lips.

  Yes, spring is here, all right. And it feels glorious.

  “Oh, would you two lovebirds bloody quit your romping,” George barks at us. “Liam, you’re on duty!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Keep your pants on, George, it’s all good.” I give Liam a squeeze of affection and a playful smile, and meander along the deck to the bow of the boat.

  The sun’s rays dance upon the water, and the ocean glistens magically. I sit on the deck, pull off my shoes and roll up my jeans. I dangle my legs, and the spray from the water tickles my feet, though it’s ice cold.

  I hear footsteps approaching, and turn in surprise. “Oh, hi Dad!” I say, grinning and patting the deck.

  Dad beams as he takes a seat beside me and leans over the bow of the boat to peer at the water. “This is fun, Laney. I could do this every day.”

  “Me too.” I close my eyes in contentment.

>   “Laney. I’m just so happy for you—the way you were able to leave that jerk Micky behind and find a nice boy. I really like Liam.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say, giving him an appreciative smile. “It wasn’t effortless.”

  “No. No, I suppose not.”

  “And I’m really happy for you and Louisa. It was such a beautiful wedding. It feels good to say it and mean it.”

  “Well, honey, your support means everything. Don’t think for a second that I thought this would be easy for you.”

  We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, admiring the view of the majestic mountains, the glistening ocean, and our breathtaking skyline.

  “So what next?” Dad asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you want from life, Lane?”

  I consider this for a moment. “I want the girls and I to live an extraordinary life,” I say, simply. “I want to travel and learn and grow, and just live with an open heart.”

  “Well,” Dad says, giving me a thoughtful look. “I know one thing’s for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your Mom would be very proud of you, my dear Laney. You have the heart of a lion.”

  “Really?” I gaze in astonishment, basking in the glory of what might be just about the most amazing compliment I’ve ever received; and coming from my father, it carries a lot of significance. My eyes well up, and I don’t bother fighting it. I just stare at my dad’s loving face with awe and gratitude.

  “It’s true,” Dad continues. “Whatever life throws your way, whatever challenge or adversity, you’ll rise above it, I know. You’ll not merely survive, Lane Carson, you’ll soar.”

  Dad’s eyes shine with such love and tenderness. I lean in and rest my head on his familiar shoulder, feeling comforted; and a glow of pride warms my face.

  For, I know it’s true. There’s nothing in this world I can’t do, nothing I can’t achieve.

  I want to do it all.

  And I will.

  Acknowledgments

  With heartfelt gratitude, I’d like to thank Mary Ellen Reid, copy editor extraordinaire, for your enthusiasm, expertise, and insight. Thanks to Laura Bradbury, author of The Grape Series, for your generosity and guidance. Special thanks to Danielle Leier, Christie Norman, and Sarah Munn for your candid feedback on the early draft. Much appreciation to Rob Smilsky for giving me the inside scoop on paramedic procedures.