Page 20 of Wisteria Winds (Wisteria Island #2)
B ennett found Danielle on their deck late in the evening, staring at the ocean with a troubled expression on her face. The rehearsal dinner was tomorrow night, and the wedding was just a couple of days away, but he sensed there was worry in her shoulders.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She leaned against him, welcoming his arm around her waist. “I’m worried about my mom.”
“Wedding jitters? Second thoughts on the orchid arrangements?” he said, attempting to joke, but she didn’t smile.
“Her blood pressure is still up,” she said. “I’ve been monitoring it every day, and the medication just isn’t bringing it down as much as I’d hoped. She’s still having the headaches, and this afternoon, I swear I saw her hands trembling a little bit.”
He frowned. “Well, that does sound concerning. Has she seen anybody besides you?”
“You know my mom. She will insist on waiting until after the wedding for any ‘unnecessary medical drama,’ as she puts it. I tried calling her regular doctor in New York, but she wouldn’t authorize a release of the records to me.”
“What’s your medical opinion? Not as her daughter, but as her nurse.”
She hesitated. “Well, without a full workup, I just can’t be certain. But I’m worried about the exhaustion compounded by the high blood pressure. She’s been pushing herself way too hard with the wedding planning, barely sleeping, probably not taking her medication consistently.”
“Is this dangerous?”
“Well, it could be if it was left untreated. I mean, she needs rest, proper medication, and monitoring. I’m worried she might just collapse if she keeps up this pace.”
“What can we do? I mean, if she’s refusing further treatment until after the wedding.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” She turned to face him.
“Part of me wants to scale everything back, you know, make the wedding so simple she can’t do anything to oversee another detail.
But another part knows that she would never forgive me if I changed all these plans because of her health.
She’s just determined to make everything perfect. ”
“Well, what if we enlisted help? Dorothy and Morty could take over more of the coordination. We could tell them your mother needs to delegate for medical reasons.”
“Maybe,” Danielle said. “Perhaps I could adjust her medication dosage, perhaps add something mild to help her sleep.”
“I could also speak with her,” Bennett offered. “I mean, not about her health, but about how much we appreciate what she’s done and how any remaining details are well in hand. Just give her permission to step back without feeling like she’s failing us.”
Danielle smiled. “That might work. I mean, she respects you. She’s less likely to dismiss your concerns as overprotectiveness the way she does with me.”
“Well, consider it done,” he promised. “We’ll find a way to get her to slow down without making her feel like she’s being sidelined. And after the wedding, she will get proper medical care.”
“Thank you.” Danielle leaned in and kissed him softly. “I know it’s a lot to handle right before our wedding.”
“Hey, this is what a partnership looks like. Remember, your concerns are my concerns, especially when it comes to our family.”
They stood together watching moonlight on the water, and Bennett made a silent vow to always make Danielle’s concerns his concerns, no matter what they were.
* * *
T hree empty coffee cups sat on the deck railing of Morty’s cottage. It was early, but the mission was important. Dorothy adjusted her wide-brimmed hat against the morning sun, and Clara reviewed her checklist for the third time.
“Remind me again why we had to meet at six o’clock in the morning,” Dorothy said, stifling a yawn behind her recently manicured hand.
“Well, because the rehearsal dinner is tonight,” Morty said with exaggerated patience. “That means today’s our last chance to make sure everything’s perfectly in place for tomorrow’s ceremony. We have to complete our inspection before Danielle and Bennett notice what we’re doing.”
“Oh yes, heaven forbid the bride and groom should know that we’re ensuring their wedding goes smoothly,” Dorothy drawled. “That’s such a terrible surprise.”
“It’s not about surprising them,” Clara said. “It’s about allowing them to focus on each other rather than all the details of the wedding. Today and tomorrow should be about their relationship, not whether the chair ribbons are evenly distributed.”
Dorothy tilted her head. “Very well, what’s first on this military operations list of yours, General Morty?”
Morty looked at his clipboard, which he’d been clutching since dawn.
“Clara will verify that the musical instruments have been properly positioned and tuned at the community center before the reception. Then she’ll meet with the string quartet when they arrive at 11.
Dorothy, I need you to supervise the final placement of the orchids at the gazebo.
They were delivered last night, and they’re being kept cool in the kitchen refrigerators. ”
“And you?” Dorothy asked.
“I’m confirming all transportation arrangements for our off-island guests. The last thing we need is Danielle’s former hospital colleagues stranded on the mainland because they missed the special ferry.”
Clara smiled at how serious Morty was. His dedication to ensuring the perfect day for Danielle and Bennett was touching—if occasionally overwhelming in its intensity.
Over the past few weeks, she’d come to the understanding that his over-the-top enthusiasm was his way of showing love.
The more color schemes and sequins, the deeper his affection was.
Morty nodded. “Now we need to split up. Remember, stealth and efficiency.” He tapped his watch dramatically. “Meet back here at noon for a progress update.”
As they went on their way for their respective missions, Clara couldn’t help but smile at this unlikely friendship she had developed with a flamboyant, fashionable man, a glamorous former movie star, and herself, a widowed conductor.
Wisteria Island just had a way of bringing people together who might never have connected elsewhere.
Clara’s assignment took her to the community center, which had been transformed for tomorrow’s reception.
The large open space had tables dotted all around it, each set with crisp white linens and simple but beautiful centerpieces using orchids and sea glass.
Tiny little lights had been strung overhead, creating the effect of a starlit sky.
Clara couldn’t believe how beautiful the community center looked.
The grand piano, rented from Savannah and delivered at a considerable expense, stood on a small raised platform in the corner.
She ran her fingers over the keys, playing a quick scale to check the tuning.
Perfect. Although she would play the keyboard at the wedding site near the gazebo, she would play this beautiful piano during the reception.
Bennett had spared no expense to make sure the music would be exceptional.
She worked through her checklist, making sure that everything was as it should be, and felt a familiar presence—not a ghostly one, but the comforting sense that her husband would have approved of her involvement in all of this and of her return to music.
He would also approve of her new friendships, and for the first time since his death, she could think of him with more joy than pain, remembering instead his passion for bringing people together through music, rather than focusing on the absence of him.
Tomorrow, she would play for a wedding, a celebration of love and commitment that might have been unbearably painful to witness at one point, just a few weeks ago. Now, even though she still felt nostalgic for her husband, it felt perfectly right to contribute to Danielle and Bennett’s special day.
Her music would be her gift to them, and in a way, their love was a gift to her—a reminder that life continues on, that joy returns eventually, and that new chapters begin even when beloved stories end.
* * *
T he morning of the rehearsal dinner dawned beautiful and clear, with a slight breeze that carried the scent of sea and flowers across the whole island.
Everything was ready. The gazebo was decorated, the community center was transformed, and the last details were perfectly in place for the ceremony tomorrow.
Danielle had just finished her morning rounds at the clinic when Dorothy suddenly burst through the door, very flustered, which was quite uncharacteristic for her.
“Your mother,” she said. “She’s having some sort of episode at the gazebo. She asked me to find you.”
Danielle’s heart pounded. “What kind of episode?”
“She became very dizzy while we were finalizing the flower arrangements. Had to sit down rather suddenly. She’s saying it’s nothing, of course, but her color is off and she’s not making her usual commentary about my decorative choices.”
Danielle grabbed her medical bag. “I’ll go right now. Could you find Bennett and ask him to meet me there?”
By the time Danielle reached the gazebo, her mom was seated on one of the benches, looking pale. Morty was hovering nearby, offering glasses of water, but Cecilia waved him away impatiently.
“This is entirely unnecessary,” she said as Danielle approached. “I just stood up too fast after adjusting the orchid arrangement.”
“Okay, well humor me,” Danielle said, already taking out her blood pressure cuff. “Let’s just check your numbers.”
Cecilia submitted, extending her arm while Morty gave her a pointed look.
“Don’t you have a ribbon arrangement to oversee?” she said to him.
“Ribbons can wait,” he replied firmly. “Some things are more important than decoration.”
Danielle wrapped the cuff around her mother’s arm and took the reading.
“175 over 100.” Higher than yesterday, despite her medication. Her concern grew.