71

She was the uninvited guest at the party that should have been her wedding.

Celeste had never felt so uncomfortable walking into the Barroses’ house, not even on that summer day twenty-five years ago when Jack brought her—his “wash’ashore” girlfriend—to meet the family. They’d welcomed her with open arms. If Jack loved her, Lidia and Manny loved her. And Tito. And the kids, Marco and Jaci.

Today, all she got from Lidia was a tight smile.

Celeste set a few packages down on the kitchen table. Birthday gifts for Jack. She decided to leave them in the house; nothing more awkward than presenting birthday gifts while simultaneously begging for forgiveness. Jack wasn’t big on extravagant presents. He usually asked her for something experiential, like, Spend the day on the boat with me. Or, this year’s whopper, Let’s get married.

“I know you’re both hurting,” Lidia said, standing against the sink while Celeste stood a few feet inside the doorway. “But I gotta say I’m Team Jack on this one.”

Of course she was. That’s why, first thing that morning, just six hours after leaving the beach, Celeste knocked on Elodie’s bedroom door to fortify herself with one more conversation. Her sister, half asleep, patted the spot next to her on the bed and Celeste moved next to her. She felt like they were girls again.

“When I left for the city last week, Tito told me that he’d never visit Manhattan,” Elodie said. “My first thought was, well, that’s the end of that. And I think he knew it, and we both thought there’s no way to compromise. But then, I was in Manhattan, and it didn’t mean anything without him. And maybe, while I was gone, he realized the same thing because he asked me to move in with him. It was a gesture, something to show me he’s all in. I don’t know if we’ll work or how, but it means a lot to me that he made the gesture. You need to show Jack.”

“How?” she’d said. But of course her sister couldn’t give her that answer. No one could.

Lidia busied herself slicing tomatoes on a cutting board.

Celeste sat in one of the chairs around the table. “Lidia, I would never ask you to be in the middle. That’s why I haven’t come over to talk to you before now. Before I wasn’t ready to tell Jack that I was wrong. I’m really sorry, Lidia. I know deep down Jack is traditional, and that he tried to forget that to accommodate me. But I’m ready to be his wife now. If he’ll accept me back.”

Lidia put down the knife, her eyes softer now. “Celeste, I love you like the sister I never had. And I want nothing more than to see you and Jack together in the way that Manny and I are. But you can’t get married to make someone else happy.”

“I know. That’s what I’ve struggled with. But truly, it’s what I want, too. It just took me some time to get here.”

“Well, then don’t waste any more time yapping here with me. Jack’s out back helping Manny set up the bar.”

Celeste nodded, feeling buoyed by the conversation. One down, one to go. She stood to leave.

“Just one more thing,” Lidia said. “I hope everything goes great. I hope we’re all laughing about all this over drinks tonight. But just in case it doesn’t . . . I think it’s best if you leave. It’s Jack’s birthday and I don’t want anything to spoil the day.”

“Of course,” Celeste said, swallowing hard.


Outside the house, neither Manny nor Jack noticed her approach. They weren’t, as Lidia had suggested, attending to the bar. Instead, they were at the edge of the dock with Jack tying a rope on the back of a skiff.

Jack loved everything about the water, down to knowing the ins and outs of how the vehicles that transported him worked. It was just a testament to his love for her that he had spent most of the past two decades helping to build her dream of an antiques shop. Now he wanted to get back on the water. And if buying into Marco’s oyster farm was the way to do it, didn’t she owe him that same support?

She took a moment to gaze at him, the late summer, deep brown tan of his arms, the way his silver hair tufted around his ears because he’d been too busy to get a haircut. The gray T-shirt from Outermost Automotive stretched taut against his chest.

She didn’t just love him, she was in love with him. The worst part of their whole predicament was that she’d led him to believe otherwise.

“Hey—sorry to interrupt,” she called out, giving a nervous little wave.

Jack looked over, surprised. He seemed happy to see her for a second, but his expression became guarded. He said something to Manny, but the breeze and the squawk of a gull carried it away. She felt her heart race as he walked over to her.

When they were face-to-face, it took all of her will not to just throw herself into his arms.

“Happy birthday,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said stiffly.

“Jack, I love you. I’m sorry. I was letting fear hold me back, but I’m past it now. Please—I’m so sorry for hurting your feelings, for letting you doubt for a minute my commitment to you. Let’s get married. I’m totally on board with the oyster farm. I want a life with you—that’s all that matters. I want to be your wife.”

Jack sighed. His expression changed from wariness to almost . . . pity.

“That all sounds great, Celeste. But how can I believe that when the time comes, you’re not going to back out again? I can’t set myself up to be let down.”

She shook her head. “I won’t let you down.”

He seemed about to reach out to her, to take her hand or touch her arm—something. She stepped forward. But then, he moved away. “I love you, too. And maybe you even believe what you’re saying. But I’m sorry—I don’t.”

He turned and walked back toward Manny.

So that was it? No. She wouldn’t accept it. He was being stubborn, as he was inclined to be. And she could be stubborn, too. But if they both gave in to their worst instincts at the same time, the relationship was finished. What could she do to get through to him?

Her sister’s words from earlier that morning repeated in her head. It was as if an airplane flew a kite overhead with the words emblazoned on it: It was a gesture, something to show me he’s all in . . . You need to show Jack.

Of course. It was so obvious!

She rushed back toward Commercial as partygoers began arriving in bunches. She didn’t have time to say hi, so she kept her eyes ahead and moved quickly. But when she reached the alley she ran into Clifford and his husband, Santiago. There was no escaping a greeting from Clifford.

“Celeste!” he said, passing the large, extravagantly wrapped gift box he was holding to Santiago. “I’m so happy to see you here. Did you two patch things up?” His face was shiny from the heat, but he was dressed impeccably as always, in an eggshell-colored linen suit and lavender button-down with a matching pocket square.

“Um, no. We didn’t patch things up,” she said.

“Don’t tell us you’re leaving already,” said Santiago.

“I’ll be right back. I just forgot something.”

And she had: her wedding dress.