Page 17 of Wisteria Winds (Wisteria Island #2)

C lara sat at her piano and allowed her fingers to dance over the keys as she played through the processional music she had arranged for Danielle and Bennett’s wedding.

Of course, she wouldn’t be playing on her own piano because they couldn’t cart that out to the gazebo.

She’d be using the community center keyboard, which wouldn’t sound nearly the same, but would do in a pinch.

The piece she had created combined elements of classical tradition with more contemporary harmonies, creating something both timeless and fresh, just like the couple themselves.

She could hear it in her mind. The string quartet from Savannah that Bennett had hired would begin with a gentle introduction, and then Clara would join on the digital piano as Danielle began her walk down the aisle.

The key change at precisely the moment she would reach Bennett would bring goosebumps to everyone present.

A knock at the door interrupted her playing. She set aside her music sheets and rose to answer it, finding Danielle on her porch with a large garment bag.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Danielle said. “I heard you playing. It sounded beautiful.”

“Just practicing for your big day,” Clara said, stepping aside and letting her in. “Is everything okay?”

Danielle set the garment bag down carefully across a chair. “More than okay. The gazebo is finished. Bennett says the landscaping will be done tonight, and Morty’s orchid crisis has apparently been averted by Dorothy. But I do need your help with something else important.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

Danielle unzipped the garment bag to reveal a simple but elegant white gown. “I need an honest opinion from someone with good taste who isn’t emotionally invested in the wedding planning. I just want to know - is this the right dress?”

Clara studied the gown. It was beautiful, clean, and timeless - a sleeveless A-line with a sweetheart neckline and minimal embellishment.

“It’s perfect. Elegant, flattering, entirely you. Isn’t it a little late in the game to ask if it’s okay?”

Danielle chuckled. “I suppose so, but I could still make it over to the mainland and get to a wedding shop if I had to. It seems most of the dresses fit someone my size. My mother helped me pick this one out, but I never know if something’s too over the top when Cecilia Wright is involved.”

“Well, it’s perfect.”

Danielle’s relief was palpable. “Thank you. My mother wanted something a little more elaborate - some lace overlays, beading, a dramatic long train that half the island could ride on as I walked down the aisle. This was our compromise.”

“And it was a successful one,” Clara assured her. “You’ll look stunning. The simplicity is going to be so striking in the gazebo setting.”

Danielle smiled and re-zipped the garment bag. “That’s what I hoped. Bennett always says I’m most beautiful when I’m most myself.”

“He’s a very wise man,” Clara said.

“He is. So, how are you doing, really?”

Clara considered the question. “Better. Each day is a little easier than the last. Playing music again has helped me the most.”

“I’ve noticed a change in you,” Danielle said. “There’s a lightness that wasn’t there when you first arrived here.”

“Well, you know… the grief doesn’t go away. It’s a life sentence,” Clara said. “I still miss my husband every day. But I’m learning that remembering him doesn’t have to only be remembering pain. I can honor him through music, and really think about our memories together with a smile.”

“That’s a beautiful way to think about it.”

“You know, he would have liked your Bennett. Robert always appreciated people who built things to last—whether it was music or communities.”

“Well, I wish we could have met him.”

“He’ll be here in a way,” Clara said, “in the music I’ve arranged and the pieces I’ll play. A small part of him lives on in everything I create.”

Danielle nodded. “You know, that’s why I asked the pastor who will officiate the wedding for us to do a remembrance moment in the ceremony.

For Bennett’s grandmother, my father, and all of the people who have lost someone who live here on Wisteria Island.

People who should be there but can only be with us in spirit. ”

“That’s very meaningful,” Clara said.

They sat together at the piano, and Clara showed Danielle the processional score, explaining how the music would flow throughout the ceremony. Two months ago, she couldn’t have imagined sitting here planning wedding music without being overwhelmed by memories of her own marriage.

While the memories would always remain, they brought more comfort than pain now. She refused to remember her marriage as a sad thing and something she’d lost.

“Will you play something for me?” Danielle asked when they finished discussing the ceremony music. “Something of Robert’s?”

Clara nodded and placed her hands on the keys. She chose one of Robert’s later compositions, a piece he’d written after they celebrated their thirtieth anniversary.

As the final notes faded, Danielle wiped away a tear. “That was beautiful, Clara. Thanks for sharing it.”

“Thank you for asking,” Clara said. “For a long time, I couldn’t bear to play his music. I wouldn’t even pull out the pieces of paper and look at them. But now it feels like the most natural way to keep him with me. It’s like he’s right here beside me.”

When Danielle left, promising to return later in the week for the final music rehearsal, Clara remained at the piano.

She pulled out a blank sheet of staff paper and began to write, capturing a melody that had been forming in her mind for days.

It would be a wedding gift for Danielle and Bennett—a brand-new composition, the first she had attempted since her husband’s death.

Not a replacement for his music, but something that grew alongside it.

Inspired by the new connections she had already formed on Wisteria Island, she felt her husband’s presence not as a ghost, but as an inspiration, encouraging her, as he always had, to create beauty in the world—even in the face of grief.

* * *

D anielle tried to keep her eyes closed as Bennett led her up a slight incline. His hands were warm on her shoulders, guiding her forward.

“We’re almost there,” he said. “Just a few more steps. But you better not peek.”

“I’m not,” she said for the umpteenth time, though the temptation was very strong.

Of course, she’d seen the gazebo during the construction, but Bennett had insisted on doing a final reveal as a surprise.

They stopped, and his hands left her shoulders. She heard him move to stand beside her.

“All right,” he said. “Open your eyes.”

Danielle did, and her breath caught in her throat.

The gazebo stood before her, gleaming white against the deepening twilight sky.

Landscape lighting illuminated its beautiful columns and dome from below, and in the interior, it glowed with the soft radiance of hidden fixtures.

Around its base, carefully arranged plants created a beautiful flowing transition from the surrounding landscape.

Two curved benches flanked the wide entrance steps, and a path of crushed shell led to where they stood at the gazebo’s opening.

But what made it truly magical was what was beyond it. It was positioned perfectly on the bluff, with the gazebo framing the ocean horizon. Tonight it was being painted in shades of purple and gold as the sun dipped behind the water.

“Oh my gosh, Bennett,” she said. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Better than any big cathedral or fancy wedding venue could have ever been.”

He took her hand and led her up the shell path toward the structure. “Come see inside.”

They climbed the three wide steps and entered the octagonal space. The cedar flooring gleamed beneath their feet, and the interior of the dome had been finished with a pale blue.

“It’s like standing inside of a seashell,” she said, turning around to take in the 360-degree view. “I just can’t believe how beautiful this is.”

“And this is where we’ll stand,” Bennett said, guiding her to the center of the space, positioning them to face the ocean view. “Right here. This is where we’ll say our vows.”

She could picture it clearly— all of their friends gathered around, Clara’s music playing, the sunset sky creating the perfect backdrop as they committed the rest of their lives to each other.

“One more week,” she said softly. “Just one more week.”

Bennett wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on top of her head. “The longest week of my life,” he said.

Danielle laughed. “Are you impatient, Mr. Alexander?”

“To make you my wife? Absolutely.”

They stood together as the last light faded from the sky, and the stars emerged one by one above them. Danielle could hear the gentle sound of waves breaking against the shore below.

“I have something to tell you, too,” she said after a while, turning in his arms to face him. “I picked up my wedding dress today.”

His eyes lit up with interest. “And?”

“Oh, and you don’t get to see it until next Saturday,” she said, teasing. “But I will tell you that Clara approves, and I think she has pretty excellent taste.”

“Well, if you’re wearing it, I know it’s already perfect,” Bennett said, brushing a strand from her face. “You could wear one of Morty’s flamingo shirts and still be the most beautiful bride in history.”

Danielle laughed. “Don’t you give him any ideas. He’s already lobbying to add, ‘just a touch of sequins’ to these gazebo columns.”

“Over my dead body,” Bennett said, making her laugh harder.

As their laughter faded, they naturally moved into a slow dance, swaying together in the middle of the gazebo with no music, just the sound of the ocean breeze and distant waves. She rested her cheek against Bennett’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

This was home, she realized. Not just Wisteria Island. Not just her cottage or this beautiful gazebo. But here, in Bennett’s arms, where she belonged.