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It wasn’t a difficult thing for Lola to discover the whereabouts of Valerie’s new islander boyfriend, Harry. The journalistic efforts involved a simple question at the local Oak Bluffs bar, which led to a conversation with another local who mentioned, “That guy who fixes the roads. His name is Harry, and he has a Midwestern accent if I’ve ever heard one.”
The Tuesday after her arrival back from Boston, Lola searched online for the street address of Harry Billson, a man who lived on the outskirts of Oak Bluffs. The site allowed for a satellite image, one that brought a digital Lola directly to the street alongside the brick house, where a large fence separated the street and Harry’s property. There was no telling if that fence was Harry’s decision or someone else’s. That said, it certainly kept any prying eyes out.
Lola studied the street address as her heart jumped into her throat. That’s where Valerie lives. No more than a fifteen-minute drive away.
But she doesn’t want anything to do with me.
I have to respect that.
I have to let her live however she wants, just as she’s allowed me.
“What’s up?” Tommy stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Lola groaned. “I figured out where Valerie lives. It’s not far from here.” She splayed her fingers over her eyes.
“And you want to go over there and make everything better?” Tommy sounded matter-of-fact.
“I want to. More than anything in the world. But she wants to build a new life with this guy. If Jenny’s correct, Valerie hasn’t exactly had an easy go of it the past six months or so. If she’s found happiness, I have to respect that.”
Tommy clucked his tongue as he pressed at his flowing wet hair, flashing droplets across the wall. “You sound very unlike any Sheridan woman I’ve met.”
“Very funny.” Lola stuck out her tongue. “Because we’re all so damn nosy?”
“Something like that,” Tommy returned with a mischievous smile as he headed toward the bedroom. “Speaking as a loner myself, I can only say Valerie probably appreciates the time you’re giving her. Sometimes, people need solitude.”
Lola’s stomach twisted as she leaned back in her chair, contemplating this advice. She then grabbed her phone to text the other “former loner” she knew, Christine, for verification.
LOLA: Hey Chris! I have a bit of a complicated situation over here. I just learned the identity and the location of Valerie’s new boyfriend here on the island. I can only assume that Valerie’s living there with him, only fifteen minutes away. All I want in the world is to talk to her.
Lola staggered to a stop, puffing her cheeks out. How could she describe what she needed to know without insulting Christine?
LOLA: Tommy says that I should give her space to think. Naturally, as a Sheridan woman, I don’t want to give her even a second to herself. Tommy suggests that all Sheridan women are just too nosy— but I have to admit, I don’t think that’s part of your game.
LOLA: What’s your advice?
Christine wrote back a few minutes later.
CHRISTINE: OMG, look at this milk spill I got all over the couch.
Lola laughed at the photo Christine sent, which featured a screaming Mia and a bunch of milk across three cushions. The white liquid bubbled and soaked into the couch. It brought Lola all the way back to her early days with baby Audrey, scrambling around with a baby and a stupid dream of being a journalist.
CHRISTINE: Pumping will be the death of me, I swear.
CHRISTINE: But anyway, back to your question.
CHRISTINE: During my very, very lonely times, I was so sure I was a loner. That I didn’t need anyone. Not to put Tommy on the spot, but I’m pretty sure the proof that the “loner” lifestyle isn’t for him lies in the fact that he’s marrying you THIS WEEKEND. Full stop.
CHRISTINE: My point? Sometimes, people don’t know what they need. I certainly didn’t. If you had asked me two years ago, I’d have told you that all I wanted to do was get drunk with my stupid New York City boyfriend, Frank, and make pastries for celebrities. Compared to my milk-stained reality, it sounds so glamourous. (LOL. Not.)
CHRISTINE: If Valerie’s “show” at your bachelorette party told me anything, it’s this: She needs you, probably a whole lot more than she wants to admit.
**
THAT FRIDAY, JUNE 17th, was Lola Sheridan and Tommy Gasbarro’s wedding rehearsal dinner. It was decided that the women would prepare for the night ahead at Susan’s house, a sort of “kickstart” to the weekend that included plenty of bubbling champagne, beautiful bouquets, little snacks, and plenty of music. Susan opened all the doors of the house to allow the breeze to bluster in from the Vineyard Sound, and the smell of lilacs enveloped the home. Lola sat at the edge of one of Susan’s couches, cupping her elbows nervously as Christine went through Lola’s makeup bag, hand-selecting their essentials for the night.
“You look white as a sheet,” Christine noted when she lifted her eyes toward Lola’s.
Lola shivered. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Since Tommy and I got engaged, I’ve been full-speed-ahead.”
“Minus that interruption with the blizzard,” Christine reminded her.
“Yes. Minus that.” Lola bit down on her lower lip and glanced toward the far wall, where a photograph of Susan, Christine, Lola, and Anna hung. The photo of the four original Sheridan women had been taken in 1995, the year that Lola had lost her front teeth. She looked silly and sweet.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Christine murmured, glancing back toward the photograph. “I think it hung heavily on Susan when she married Scott, too.”
“It’s just so strange that we’re all back. We’re all still here. And I still half-expect her to find a way back into our lives,” Lola whispered. “Like that nightmare will reverse itself, and we’ll all just get to live out the rest of our days here.”
Christine jumped onto the couch next to Lola, sliding a hand over Lola’s smooth hair and holding her in a nourishing hug. After they shared a long sigh and a moment of silence, Audrey leaped through the back door, dressed in nothing but a swimsuit and a pair of tennis shoes. A hand lifted, she hollered, “There she is! The bride!” and leaped onto the couch next to Christine and Lola, miscalculating their sorrowful hug as a joyful one.
Lola took this opportunity to brighten her emotions.
“Are you wearing that tonight, Maid of Honor?” Lola teased.
Audrey giggled and glanced down at her bare midriff. “I thought I’d give the people what they want.” She then tugged at a tiny bit of skin, leftover and sagging from her pregnancy. “How do you get rid of this?”
Christine laughed. “Talk to me when you had a baby after forty.” She patted her own stomach, which looked tight under her shirt yet was, apparently, a bit of a mess up close. “Not that it wasn’t worth it.”
“Always worth it,” Audrey returned. “RIP my beautiful bikini body.”
“All bodies are bikini bodies.” Amanda stepped out of the kitchen with a carrot stick raised, heavy with hummus.
“I think we had better get ready to go!” Susan hollered from the top of the staircase before emerging in her off-the-shoulder dark purple dress that shimmered around her knees. Her makeup was sublime, her hair styled in a half-up-do, and she’d donned a beautiful golden bracelet, which caught the light from the hazy afternoon.
Lola’s dress for the evening hung in Susan’s guest bedroom. It was ivory and up to her neck, cutting off at the knees to allow her to wear her signature bohemian boots. Christine followed her in to help with makeup, suggesting that they do something a bit more “out there” and “in your face” that evening to contrast with the more subdued, “bridal” makeup of the following day. As Christine styled her, she closed her eyes and lost herself into the beauty of the music Audrey played on the surround-sound speakers.
The rehearsal at Grange Hall was set to begin at five o’clock in the afternoon. Susan drove Lola, Christine, Audrey, and Amanda in Scott’s truck, as Scott was off the island that evening to take care of some freight line duties. “He’ll be back tomorrow, though, won’t he?” Lola asked, suddenly worried that a puzzle piece of the family wouldn’t be there for their big party.
“You can’t keep Scott away from a party,” Susan affirmed as she escalated the speed, pushing them faster toward Grange Hall. “He’s supposed to be on the island by six in the morning if you can believe it. Kellan’s with him, too. Working odd jobs on the freight liner this summer for extra cash. The poor kid! Waking up at four in the morning with his dad.”
“I wouldn’t be able to manage it,” Audrey offered simply.
“But you have to wake up all the time for Max,” Amanda pointed out.
“True. But we just hang out in the warmth of my bed, relaxing. Not out on the Sound somewhere, freezing our butts off,” Audrey countered.
Together, the Sheridan women bubbled with laughter and conversation all the way to gorgeous Grange Hall, the site of tomorrow’s wedding. Audrey leaped from the truck and lifted a hand to help Lola down to the sidewalk below.
“I don’t need as much help today,” Lola said. “But tomorrow, with that long skirt—”
“I’ll be your guide,” Audrey offered mischievously. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Several members of the Sheridan and Montgomery families had arrived for the rehearsal, including Claire and Charlotte, who Lola had begun calling “the Wedding Sisters,” as Charlotte was a wedding planner and Claire always did the flowers. Tommy had a couple of sailing buddies all lined up, waiting for the rehearsal to begin. Amongst them was not Stan Ellis, the man Anna had had an affair with all those years ago— the man who’d ultimately made the mistake that had caused Anna to lose her life out on that boat.
Good, Lola thought to herself selfishly. I don’t want him here.
Forgiveness was a beautiful thing. Lola could describe the benefits of it to herself time and time again, saying that it opened her mind and her heart and her soul to other possibilities and worlds. But she knew, in another way, she would never truly forgive Stan Ellis for what he’d done.
Her father had already arrived and stood off to the left of the church with Scott, Zach, and Tommy. Lola hugged her father lovingly, dipping her nose into the soft fabric of his button-down.
“There she is,” Wes breathed. “The most beautiful bride of Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Oh goodness. Don’t you compliment her too much. It’ll go to her head,” Zach teased.
“Good to see you too, smartypants,” Lola quipped, sticking out her tongue playfully.
“The bride is such a lady,” Tommy said, dropping forward to kiss her on the cheek.
Just before the pastor arrived to start the rehearsal, a car crept up the driveway to Grange Hall and parked in the back lot. Lola hadn’t recognized the vehicle and stood, poised at the back pew, watching as Jenny and a handsome stranger, presumably her boyfriend, stepped up the staircase and entered. Lola’s heart lifted at the sight of Jenny, her previous family, and a woman she’d thought might slightly detest her, especially after the strange meeting up in Boston.
But Jenny had never been resentful. Lola wrapped her arms around her lovingly and closed her eyes as she whispered, “Thank you for being here today. I only wish that Valerie would make the trip here from, ha, Oak Bluffs.”
Jenny leaned back, her smile crooked and sad. “She’s so close, yet so far.”
Lola shrugged. “All that matters is that you’re here.”
“I don’t know. I think it matters that we’re together again. Especially to celebrate such a big event in your life,” Jenny offered.
Lola’s heart thumped strangely as she stepped back from the hug. The pastor had arrived and was instructing everyone to set up in their set locations: Audrey, Susan, Amanda, and Christine in the back of the church, along with two of Tommy’s dear friends. Grandpa Wes barrelled back into the foyer as well, prepared to take his youngest daughter down the aisle.
“You’re reading the poem I sent you?” Lola asked Jenny distractedly as she headed back to the foyer.
“I have it right here,” Jenny affirmed, tapping her purse.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Lola rushed back to the foyer, where she found her sisters, her niece, her daughter, her father, and Tommy’s dearest friends, all in bubbly conversation about who would win the Round-the-Island Sailing Race that year.
“Tommy’s always a shoo-in,” Amanda said pointedly.
“Yeah, but that Cole Steel ain’t half-bad,” Grandpa Wes returned.
“He did look fantastic last year,” Susan stated. “But I still think Tommy’s got it. Especially this year, hot off the heels of his wedding.” She elbowed Lola and smiled.
“Is everyone ready?” The pastor waved a hand from the front of Grange Hall, his eyes alight. “We’re going to get the music started in five, four, three, two...”