8

Brooke

On Fridays I had my dinner with Nan at the therapy facility. She told me what was going on with the other “inmates” as she referred to them, and I ate cafeteria food served on a tray complete with a boxed juice and a chocolate pudding for dessert. I didn’t mind; it was just food. You put it in your body when you’re hungry.

“Hi, Brooke,” Lilah called from the nurses’ station, “there will be three of you for dinner tonight. She looks so pretty. I’ll bring it to the room in a few minutes.”

Three of us? I wondered who was visiting Nan at dinnertime. “She always looks pretty, Lilah, and thank you for looking after her so well.”

“It won’t be long until she’s out of here, she’s improving every day.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” I said. The truth was I had very mixed feelings about Nan returning to the cottage and being on her own during the day. What if she fell again? It was an old house with uneven floorboards and steps that could be a death trap if it happened a second time. I still needed to talk to Herman about the value of the cottage and get his opinion on an equity loan so she could hire someone to help her during the day when I was on the mainland. I knew he cared about her. When I’d asked Nan casually about him earlier in the week, the story she’d told me had made my heart tingly for days.

Nan and Herman had a romantic past I’d known nothing about.

It had been a long time ago. More than thirty years had passed since the time when Nan was a young widow with a small child, and Herman Blackstone had come courting. His parents didn’t approve, so Herman broke ties with them and left the island for a long time. He ended up marrying someone else and started a family, but the marriage didn’t last. And so he returned to Blackstone Island and stayed for good. Nan and Herman were still friends—

Whoa. Make that very good friends.

As I rounded the corner to her room, I saw something I’d never seen before. My nan kissing a man. Well, he was actually kissing her—I think. Herman was holding her face with his two hands so sweetly, as if she were the most precious treasure on earth. She had her hands at his waist as if she’d been practicing her walking and he’d been steadying her when they decided to go for a good snogging. The scene was straight out of The Notebook minus the rain.

I must have made a noise because they stopped and turned toward me in unison, their expressions mirroring the same peaceful happiness that only comes when the feeling is mutual.

We all blushed simultaneously I think.

Nan reached out a hand to me. “Brooke, my lovely girl, I have—that is—we have something to share with you.”

I walked forward to take her hand in mine. “I already know what it is, Nan, because anyone can see the two of you are hopelessly in love with each other.”

“SO, you won’t be returning to the cottage when you come out of here, will you?” I asked.

“That won’t be possible, Brooke, because she’ll be living with me in my house,” Herman said quietly before pulling Nan’s hand up to his lips for a kiss. Mr. Romance was making the moves on my nan, and it was so damn sweet to witness.

Okaaaay. That would stir up the island gossips fairly quickly. I glanced at Nan to see what she thought of Herman’s suggestion. “The gossips will have a field day with that news,” I said cautiously.

She glowed with a love that shone so brightly I had to blink. “As husband and wife, Brooke darling. Herman has asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted.”

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “Oh. My. God. Nan! I’m so happy for you both. It’s really the most lovely news I could ever hear. Congratulations, you two.”

I hugged them both in turn, first Nan and then Herman, feeling the tears rise up violently in a surge I couldn’t tamp down. This loss of control happened to me in emotional situations, so it wasn’t a surprise to me at all. And it was totally unwelcome at a happy time such as the announcement of a marriage. Mortifying.

I was in good hands, though. Herman and Nan both seemed to understand my weakness when each of them opened an arm to me.

I fell in between them and wept until the overwhelming urge passed almost as quickly as it had come.

I’d never had this problem before my fatal mistake. I hadn’t cried at the drop of a hat or in situations where happiness ruled before the accident that changed my life. Changed it for the better . . . and also for the worse. Duality. A situation where the line between good and bad could not exist because it was both.

And I had to live with it for the rest of my life.

I pulled myself together and gave them a huge smile that I truly felt all the way down to the depths of my heart, and said, “I suppose this means there is a wedding to plan.”

“Can you pull one together in a few weeks?” Herman had quite the twinkle in his deep-blue eyes. He appeared to be one eager bridegroom, and I had to suppress a giggle at the thought. Nope. Not going there. Thoughts of my grandmother and her fiancé together could just go right on out of my head. Oh, my God. My nan had a fiancé!

“I’ll need some help, but I know just the person to make it happen,” I told him.

“Eduardo?” Nan asked.

I nodded. “He would be so honored and will make it magical for you, Nan, I know it.”

“Sounds wonderful, my darling. Now, please, let’s talk about you.” She reached for my hand and rubbed her thumb over the top slowly. “How does this all sit with you? I know you came back to help me when I needed it, but I want you to be honest with me now when I ask you if you’re comfortable living alone at the cottage?”

“Yes, Nan, of course. I’ve been alone in the cottage for the last five mon—”

“Let me finish, please, my lovely girl.” She gave me that stern look of scolding I’d known for years. “I’ve discussed it with Herman and he would love to welcome you to live with us in his home if you want to.”

She was worried about me living alone in the cottage, afraid I wasn’t ready to handle the isolation. Yet. But she didn’t need to be. I craved it actually. It was exactly what I needed.

“You two are so adorable, and I thank you for the kind and generous offer, though I wouldn’t dream of intruding on newlyweds who’ve waited a lifetime to be together. I will be perfect in the cottage by myself. It is perfect for me.”

“Then it is yours, darling. Herman will see to it the deed of trust is transferred into your name.”

“Already in the works, my dear.” Herman winked. “You own a piece of the island now, Brooke.”

“I do?” I felt tears welling again.

“Free and clear,” he said. “The property value has increased quite a bit from when your grandfather bought it forty years ago, obviously. The house is small, but the view is what counts and you have a beauty up there on the hill above the Fairchild Light.”

“I love the view so much,” I whispered, suddenly at a loss, and completely overwhelmed.

“It appraised at just over two million, but with some renovations that would increase nicely, depending what you want to do with it, of course.” Herman nodded his head, happy to be the bringer of good news.

“Two—two million dollars?”

Herman laughed and patted my hand. “Two point two five to be precise.”

“You’ve both shocked the hell out of me—in a good way mind you—but I had no idea about any of this. I’ve been so worried about the money I was going to ask you, Herman, about taking out a loan on the equity to pay medical bills.” I was light-headed with relief.

“That’s not your worry anymore, my dear. Everything is paid in full, and my Ellen is going to marry me,” he said, before giving Nan another kiss to her hand, and making her blush beautifully. “It’s only about thirty-five years too late but I will take it gratefully.”

What a wise man Herman Blackstone was. Take your happiness when it comes. It was good advice I mustn’t forget. When . . . If happiness graced my life again. Possibly not of the romance variety for quite some time, but that was okay. Time on my own was exactly what my heart needed. Joy instead of sadness.

I’d been so worried about Nan being alone. But I didn’t need to worry about her anymore. I could focus on getting my life back. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from me, and I barely knew what to do with such a light heart.

“Dinner is served,” Lilah announced as she rolled a cart into the room, breaking the spell of disbelief that had me wondering if I would wake up from this dream any moment and be thrust back into the cold harshness of reality.

Apparently not, because Lilah told us what we were having for dinner, and it struck me as absolutely hilarious. Spaghetti and . . . meatballs.

Of course I immediately thought of Caleb and the flowers he’d sent to me. But more so my very rude rant when he’d called me to flirt. He had been flirting with me. I knew it, and I shut him down anyway. I’d been rather a bitch to him, and Caleb had been nothing but nice to me.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and took some pictures of Nan and Herman first, because they were adorable and so happy together it was a must. Then I arranged my plate of spaghetti and meatballs for a photo op and snapped some foodie pics.

“What on earth are you doing, Brooke?” Nan asked me.

“I’m taking pictures of your engagement dinner, Nan. Every woman should be so lucky to have spaghetti and meatballs when she gets engaged.”

I left Nan and Herman after dinner and took myself home to the cottage. Home to my cottage. Now, that little idea was going to take some getting used to, but I felt confident I could manage it. How did I go from paranoia about money to owning a two-million-dollar cottage on Blackstone Island in the space of an evening? How was that even possible? My nan was marrying her long-lost love, Herman, who just happened to be the mayor. They were getting married in exactly one month and I was planning it with Eduardo, who didn’t even know he’d been commandeered into service.

God.

I wanted to do a bit of research tonight, and make some notes on ideas for the wedding, so I could be ready to begin full speed ahead with the actual plans in the morning. Only a month’s time to prepare. I knew it would be a challenge, but I’d make sure it was special for Nan and Herman if it killed me.

The first thing I did whenever I got home was change out of my work clothes. By the end of the day, I was beyond ready to ditch leather leggings and boots after nearly twelve hours of wearing them. The bra, too. Nothing felt better than to exchange the pretty stuff for cozy flannel pajamas and warm socks that maybe weren’t quite so pretty.

I made some tea and drafted a long email to Eduardo with the details and invited him to come over to the island tomorrow—if he was free—so we could search venues. I assumed they would want it at Stone Church, the old stone chapel perched against the rocky shoreline. Very stark, but reminiscent of the chapel on Cumberland Island where JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette married. It was going to be gorgeous.

It was just past ten when I picked up my phone to look at the pictures I’d taken of Herman and Nan. I saw the spaghetti and meatballs pictures, too. I don’t know why I decided to message Caleb. It was stupid really, but I wanted to reach out to him and apologize again. I felt badly with how our conversation had gone about west-side vs. south-end. Ouch. So bitchy on my part. My comments had been cringeworthy, despite the fact I couldn’t remember them exactly. Thank. God.

I did remember, however, that Caleb had said for me to think of him whenever I saw a meatball.

It was the least I could do to be accommodating, I told myself as I tapped out my text.

Thought of you tonight at dinner. –Brooke

I attached a picture of my plate of meatballs and pressed Send.