by Grace Palmer
“There we go,” Joey said triumphantly. His grin matched Sara’s now. “Love has been celebrated. Now it’s time to drink.”
Sara laughed, rolled her eyes, and grabbed Joey’s hand. Together, they walked into the party.
It was a gorgeous scene. The fairy lights that had been strung amongst the tree branches cast a warm glow over all the partiers, like a ceiling of light. An open bar in one corner of the yard glistened with bottles of wine, beer, and liquor. Along the left-hand side, long linen-covered tables groaned under the weight of silver plates and cutlery, eagerly awaiting dinner. Waiters were circulating with hors oeuvres—pimento cheese and prosciutto biscuits, red potatoes with tomato-avocado salsa, little red lentil terrines and bruschetta. Sara couldn’t help but burst out laughing when she glanced over at her boyfriend and saw that his mouth was already stuffed full. Joey didn’t hesitate to sample each of the snacks on offer.
They went and found the family to say their hellos. Mom was chatting away with Debra and her new man. He was outrageously tall, over six and a half feet, but he had a nice muscular build to go with it and a handsome head of thick salt-and-pepper hair. He and Debra looked smitten with each other, if their flitting glances back and forth and mysterious smiles were anything to go by.
Eliza was constantly occupied, of course, talking to everyone at once, so Sara just snuck in and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek and a promise to connect later in the evening.
Holly was busy trying to convince Grady to try a prawn. Sara wisely chose to steer clear of that.
The first part of the evening rolled by in a blur. Sara held Joey’s hand tightly as the attendees cleared the center of the yard for Eliza and Oliver to share their first dance. Oohs and ahhs filtered out of the crowd as the lovebirds held each other close and spun in a slow, easy circle to the sounds of a beautiful country song Sara didn’t recognize. She thought Oliver had a funny expression on his face at the very end of the dance after Eliza said something in his ear, but maybe she was just imagining things. It was a cute moment either way.
Once the song faded away, the DJ invited the rest of the crowd to join the couple on the dance floor. That was Sara’s cue to go turn away and find some snacks of her own.
But to her surprise, Joey didn’t let go of her hand. He pulled her back into him. “You aren’t trying to duck me, are you?”
Sara saw what he was getting at and immediately shook her head firmly. “If you think you’re getting me on that dance floor, you must’ve sustained a head injury or something.”
“I thought we were here to celebrate love?”
“Exactly, and I love food, so I’m gonna go celebrate with that crab dip, if I can find the right server.”
“You aren’t getting away that easily, Chef Sara.”
She laughed and tried to pull away, but he still wasn’t letting go. “Joey Burton,” she warned.
His grin split his face in two. “I do love when you say my name like that …”
“I’m serious,” she said again, eyebrows raised as threateningly as she could make them. “Unhand me at once.”
“Is this your serious boss voice?” he teased. “I kinda like it.”
Slowly but surely, he was tugging her towards the dance floor, which had begun to fill up with other couples twirling each other about. This was Sara’s nightmare, her Kryptonite. For all her bravado, she had never, ever been a dancer. And she didn’t plan on starting tonight.
But her boyfriend—her infuriatingly cute, relentless boyfriend—had other ideas.
“Just one song,” he said.
“Nope.”
“Half a song.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“A chorus. One measly chorus.”
“Joey …”
The song shifted into the next and his eyes lit up. “Oh yes, this one is perfect. C’mon.”
“You really aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”
He softened, his face falling into a hangdog expression. “Okay, fine. I guess you’re just embarrassed that I’ll out-dance you.”
Sara snorted. “I’m already mentally prepared to have bruises on the top of my feet.”
“You’re just scared. I get it. I understand.”
She wrinkled her brow skeptically. “I see what you’re doing, you know.”
He spread his arms wide. “Who, me? I’m just making sure my girlfriend doesn’t get all terrified, you know? It’s a big, scary place, the dance floor at a wedding, and if you’re not careful …”
Sara was rolling her eyes as hard as she possibly could, but she sighed, growled, and tugged Joey onto the dance floor all at once. He cackled like a loon as he pulled her close to him and they began to dance. “That was easy.”
“You’ll pay for this, Burton.”
He closed his eyes and smacked his lips like he was savoring something delicious. “The boss voice strikes again. Make me pay, chef.”
She didn’t even have the heart to shush him again. He was like a puppy dog—brimming with boundless, irresistibly contagious energy. It was impossible for her to look at him and not smile. Especially tonight, with how handsome he looked in his formal attire. The lines of his shoulders were broad and strong, and as they swayed and spun together to the music, she was surprised by how capably he was leading her. For a change, she let herself be led. It was nice. She spent all her days and nights being the boss at Little Bull. It was in her nature to want to be in charge. But here, tonight, it was an unexpected relief to close her eyes and let the music and her boyfriend guide her. Nothing to worry about, nothing to dictate, nothing to choose. She felt light on her feet, practically weightless. The night was beautiful, her sister was married, and she was being swept away in the arms of a man who understood implicitly how her brain and heart operated.
It was okay to let go here.
She fell silent and laid her head against his chest. Joey’s heart beat almost in time to the music as it slowed into a quiet fade-out.
She wasn’t sure how long they remained there before she heard another man clear his throat to her left. Glancing up in surprise, she saw Russell Bridges standing there with a smile on his face. He looked to Joey. “Mind if I cut in for a moment?” he asked.
Joey glanced down at Sara. “If it’s all right with the lady.”
Sara looked back and forth between the men, then broke out into a soft smile of her own. “It’s okay, J,” she said. She stood up on her tiptoes—Joey was far taller than her, even when she was wearing high heels—and kissed him on the lips. “Go find us some good snacks. I’ll be over in a minute.”
He nodded, then left her and Russell facing each other on the dance floor. Bodies flowed around them before he offered his hand to her. She took it delicately and the two of them joined the current as the next song picked up tempo.
“Wasn’t sure if you were going to come,” Sara commented, eyeing Russell.
“And miss this? You’re crazy. It’s open bar, you know.”
Sara laughed and punched him in the chest. He was as solid as ever. Might’ve even been working out, if the thickness of his muscle was anything to go by. “Where’s Clarissa?”
“Off flirting with other men, no doubt.”
“Oh?”
He grinned. “I’m just kidding. She’s snacking at our table. I told her I just wanted to steal a quick dance from my favorite Benson lady.”
“Now I’m your favorite Benson?”
“No, but you’re the only one I could find.” He grinned again as she punched him for the second time.
“You haven’t changed a bit, you know,” she told him.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“No,” she decided. “I don’t think it is.”
“Let’s hope so. I’m more than halfway through my thirties. The window for change is closing quickly.”
“Don’t put it like that; you’re depressing me.”
“You and me both.”
They moved and spun slowly, like the second ha
nd of a clock sweeping around its face. “How’re you guys?” Sara asked, meaning Russell and Clarissa.
“We’re great,” he said at once. His eyes sort of clouded over in that lovey-dovey way that she’d seen in Joey from time to time when he didn’t think she was looking at him. She loved that expression in her man. It was actually cute to see it in Russell, too. “I’m thinking …” He looked around suspiciously, as if to make sure no one was looking. “I’m thinking of popping the question next year.”
Sara yelped, then bit her lip to catch it before Clarissa noticed, wherever she was. She couldn’t help but smile, though. “No way! Russ, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you guys.”
“So you better save the date.” He winked. “And schedule your dance with me right now, because I’ll be a hot, hot commodity that night.”
“You’re always a hot commodity, Bridges.”
“You know me too well, Miss Benson.”
He looked handsome in the fairy lights, and practically oozing with happiness. It was heartwarming to see him this way. Once upon a time, it would have made her heart eat itself in anger. Anger that it wasn’t her he was loving, anger that someone could move on and leave her behind. Now, though, she could honestly look at him and feel nothing but joy on his behalf.
Eliza was right. She was growing up.
Their dance brought them around to one of the high-top tables and Sara saw Clarissa standing there. She waved her over. The little blonde thing came bouncing up, all smiles, and Sara stepped back. “Your man won’t shut up about you,” she said to her with a wry grin.
Clarissa laughed. “One of his best and worst qualities. You learn to live with it, ya know?”
“Believe me, I know. You two go canoodle. I’m gonna go hunt down my dinner.”
She waved and left Clarissa and Russell to the crush of the dance floor while she went to find Joey. She didn’t see him on her first half-circle of the party, but she realized she was near her spot at the table where she’d left her purse hanging on the back of her chair, so she stopped to get some ChapStick out.
As she dug in the contents of her bag, she felt the rustle of paper on her fingertips. She paused. She could feel her heartbeat thudding in her throat all of a sudden. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Slowly, she withdrew it and opened it up. It was well-worn, creased, thumbed over a thousand times.
The Martin Hogan review.
The title leapt off the page at her, just like it always did. Arrogance Meets Incompetence in New Nantucket Wannabe … But for some reason, it didn’t have the same sting tonight as it had every other night since the day it was published. Normally, she could count on feeling her stomach churn and her heart drop as soon as she opened the sheet up.
Not now. Now tonight.
She felt Joey walk up behind her before she saw him. His chin, sandpaper-rough from shaving for the event, nestled against her neck and his hands encircled her waist. “Whatcha got there?” he asked. But as soon as he saw it, she could feel him darken. “We talked about that, Sara.”
She turned to face him. “I know.” She saw the concern written on his face. He was an empathetic creature. She knew that his heart hurt on her behalf each and every time she tortured herself with the words of this petty, vicious man and the petty, vicious man who’d compelled him to write them. Gavin, Martin—they were goblins. Nothing more.
So she decided—suddenly and irrevocably—that she didn’t have room in her life for them anymore.
She needed that room for other things. For love, for Joey, for her restaurant, for her family, for her friends. For looking up at the beautiful star-studded Nantucket night sky, where it glimmered beyond the reach of the fairy lights, and for realizing that she was blessed beyond all measure to live here.
“Come with me.” She grabbed his hand. He hesitated for a moment, unsure what she wanted. “Come on! I want you with me for this.”
Sara led Joey to the walkway that led to the beach. Together, they went down the planks, leaving the hubbub and lights of the reception behind them. There was a small bonfire and some chairs out here for people to duck away from the party to catch a breath of fresh air. The sound of the waves surrounded them and wrapped them up like a quilt.
The sand was soft under Sara’s feet as she slipped off her high heels and hitched up her dress with one hand so it didn’t drag amongst the dunes. She and Joey approached the fire. It emanated heat in crackling waves.
By the light of the fire, she glanced at the review one last time. These words were poison, and she’d been willingly drinking it night after night for months now. So why keep doing it? Why not do the one thing she’d been unwilling to do for her whole entire life?
Why not just … let go?
One by one, her fingers loosened, until the crinkled sheet, worn smooth by her touch, was held between just her thumb and forefinger.
Then she let that go, too.
It caught the wind, flipped once, and landed in the middle of the fire. The flames licked away at the edges. It didn’t take long before the whole thing was engulfed in fire and turning to black. She saw Martin Hogan’s name last of all.
Then it was gone.
All of it. Her spite, her jealousies, her self-doubt. Old Sara burned up in the flames.
New Sara turned to Joey, who hadn’t let go of her hand. She kissed him, soft at first, then hard, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to her. His smell filled her nose and his hands found her hips and the fire and the ocean swelled around them and it was a moment too full of all things beautiful to leave room for anything as ugly and twisted as the things she once insisted on keeping with her.
She kissed her boyfriend until her calves ached from standing on her tiptoes. But no sooner had she separated and returned to earth than Joey’s belly rumbled.
He grinned sheepishly, for fear he had ruined an important moment. But Sara laughed. This, too, was perfect.
“Told you I’m always hungry.”
“That you did,” she said. “Let’s go get some food.”
29
Brent
Brent was on a mission.
It had been a long time since he’d felt this way. Since when? Before Dad, maybe. His vision had narrowed down to a tunnel. Nothing else could distract him. It was a strange way to be feeling on the night of his sister’s wedding, yeah, but he wasn’t going to be stopped.
He needed to find Rose’s daughter.
She’d done a fabulous job as flower girl at the ceremony that afternoon. The crowd loved her on sight as she skipped down the aisle casting rose petals left and right. With braided blonde buns and a frilly little dress, she was a poster child for what a flower girl was supposed to look like. Brent had worn a massive, cheesy smile the whole time.
That was only one of the many little moments he’d had all day long of falling further in love with his life. He felt—so strongly, so powerfully, so tangibly—his blessings surrounding him. Family. Friends. Love, love, love. Surely there was no one else in the world this lucky. How could there be? He had it all.
There she was. He saw a flash of blonde hair streak past a dozen yards ahead of him. She was headed towards the quiet area with the fire out on the beach. He tried calling after her, but she must not have heard him, because she just kept running. Grimacing, he set off the way she’d gone.
It was a clear night, though he could still see the hurricane boiling at the very edge of the horizon, a spot a little darker than the rest of the night sky. He felt the warm twin buzz of happiness and champagne in his bloodstream.
But he needed to focus. He had a mission to accomplish.
“Susanna!” he called again. He saw her little shape turn around by the fire as he walked up into the circle of light. “There you are.”
She grinned and waved at him. “That’s a big fire!” she said, pointing at the flames.
“Yes, it sure is,” he agreed.
“Can we make s’mores?”
“Maybe after. Hey, Suz, can I ask you
something?” He knelt to her level.
She put her hands behind her back in that shy little girl way as soon as he got down to her level. It made him laugh every time she did that. No matter how close they grew, he would always be Mr. B to her. Well, maybe not always. Not if this mission was a success.
“Can I?”
“Yeah,” she replied in a tiny voice.
“Do you promise to keep it a secret for just a little while?”
“Okay.”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “I got your mommy a gift,” he whispered. Cracking the box open, he showed Susanna the engagement ring that sat on a plush cushion within. “Do you think it’s pretty?”
Her eyes widened. She nodded, looking back and forth between his face and the ring. “Yeah!”
“Good. I think so, too. I’m glad you agree.”
“Are you going to give that to Mommy?”
Brent shifted his weight and retrieved something else from his pocket, though he hid that in his palm for a moment longer. “Well, maybe. But I had to find you so I could ask you something first.”
“What do you have to ask me?” she mumbled, curious.
“You see, if I give your mom this ring, that means I’m asking her to marry me.”
“Like Aunt ’Liza got married today?”
“Exactly. Do you know what that means?”
She nodded.
“Can you tell me?”
“It means being in love forever and ever and ever and ever.”
Brent laughed. “Bingo. So if I give your mom this ring, it means I want to be in love with her forever and ever and ever and ever.”
“Okay,” she said again.
He continued, “But before I can do that, I have to ask you first.” He cracked open the second box and showed the inside to her. It was a smaller version of the first ring (sans-diamond, of course), sized for a child’s finger. “I want to love your mom forever. But I want to love you forever, too. So I got you a ring. And I want to get your permission before I give your mommy’s ring to her. If you say yes, then we can be a happy family. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, though.”