Page 23 of Wisteria Winds (Wisteria Island #2)

Clara sat perfectly still, the note trembling slightly in her hand.

This unexpected tribute to her husband, to both of them, touched her deeply.

That their names would forever be linked to a place that had such beauty and meaning felt like the perfect memorial.

For so long after his death, Clara had focused on what was lost. Coming to Wisteria Island, she had slowly and painfully started to realize what remained.

The music they had shared, the love that continued in his absence, and the ability to form new connections while honoring what had come before.

The Whitman Gazebo, a place of music and memory, of celebration and quiet contemplation. Robert would have loved it.

With renewed purpose, Clara gathered her musical papers and headed out to meet the quartet. Today was a day for joy and new beginnings.

* * *

D anielle stood in her bedroom and watched as Dorothy carefully arranged the delicate flowers in her hair. Her beautiful wedding dress hung perfectly against her skin, its simple elegance exactly what she had envisioned for herself.

“Hold still, darling,” Dorothy instructed, putting in another flower with a pearl-tipped pin. “You know, beauty requires lots of patience.”

“And a steady hand,” Morty added, as he hovered nearby with his emergency sewing kit.

“Thankfully, Dorothy possesses that in abundance. Unlike some people I could mention,” he looked at himself in the reflection of the mirror, where his lavender bow tie sat slightly askew, despite multiple attempts to straighten it.

“Has anybody checked in on my mother this morning?” Danielle asked. The memory of her episode remained vivid in her mind.

“I brought her breakfast myself,” Morty said. “She’s already dressed in her stunning rose ensemble and looks remarkably well-rested. She even asked me to tell you that she’s taking her medication like a model patient.”

“Her color was much improved,” Dorothy added, “and she wasn’t even trying to micromanage the floral arrangements when I stopped by, which I consider a miracle in and of itself.”

Danielle smiled, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. “Thank you both so much. I couldn’t help worrying after yesterday.”

“Well, that’s perfectly understandable,” Dorothy said as she secured the final flower. “But today is for joy, not worry. Your mother’s a strong woman. A little high blood pressure isn’t going to keep her from her only daughter’s wedding.”

Morty walked over with a small velvet box. “Speaking of your mother, she asked me to bring this to you and said you’d know what it was.”

Danielle opened the box to find the gold locket, the one that had belonged to her grandmother, that her own mother had worn on her wedding day. A note tucked inside read simply, For the newest bride in our family. Your father would be so proud. Love, Mom.

“Oh,” Danielle breathed, feeling tears threatening to spill over and ruin her newly applied makeup.

“None of that!” Morty yelled, gently taking the locket and fastening it around her neck. “We’ve spent far too long on your makeup for tears, my dear.”

Dorothy handed her a tissue. “Blot, don’t wipe,” she instructed. “And maybe this is a moment for some traditional wedding day wisdom.”

“From the woman who’s been married four times?” Morty teased.

Dorothy gave him a look. “Which makes me an expert. I’ve learned what works and what doesn’t.”

Danielle laughed. “I’ll take wisdom from wherever it comes today.”

Dorothy took her hands, suddenly serious. “Marriage is a dance, darling. Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow. But you must always remain in step with each other. Bennett is a wonderful man who adores you. But even good men need guidance occasionally.”

“And patience,” Morty added. He turned to Danielle.

“You know, the best advice I can give you, my dear, is to simply remember why you fell in love with Bennett in the first place. In the day-to-day of your marriage, it’ll be easy to forget the magic of all these early moments.

But keep them close to your heart, especially when you have disagreements about which way the toilet paper should hang. ”

“Well, it’s over the top, obviously,” Dorothy said.

“Under is clearly superior for decorative folding purposes,” Morty said.

Danielle laughed. “So this is your sage marriage advice? Toilet paper orientation?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at how many arguments come from such trivial matters,” Dorothy said.

“But you know, the real advice is to build traditions together. Little rituals that are uniquely yours. Well, Gordon and I—he was husband number two, the good one—we had breakfast in bed every Sunday, rain or shine, for 23 years. Even when we were fighting about something else, we always had those Sunday mornings.”

“Bennett and I watch the sunrise together when we can,” Danielle said. “You know, just coffee and quiet to begin our days.”

“Perfect,” Morty said. “You hold on to that. Add new traditions as you go. Maybe a sunset walk when you’re eighty, complaining about your arthritis while holding hands.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Clara peeked in. “It’s almost time,” she said. “Bennett is already at the gazebo and looks terribly handsome and very nervous.” Her eyes widened when she looked at Danielle. “Oh my goodness, you look absolutely beautiful.”

“And the final touch,” Dorothy declared, carefully placing a simple veil that attached at the crown of Danielle’s head, framing the flowers in her hair. “There, perfect.”

Danielle turned to the mirror, barely recognizing the woman gazing back at her.

The simple elegance of the dress, the fresh flowers in her hair, and the gold locket catching the light coming through the window—they had all transformed her into a bride.

But more importantly, into a woman ready to begin this new chapter of her life.

“Thank you all,” she said, turning to hug each of her friends. “For everything. Not just today, but for welcoming me to this island, becoming my family, and helping me find my way to this moment.”

“Oh, stop,” Morty said, waving his hand as his eyes watered. “You have us all in tears, and I’ve only just perfected the powder I put on my face so I wouldn’t shine in the Lowcountry sun.”

“Well, it’s time to find our seats,” Dorothy said. She hugged Danielle one last time before walking to the door.

Morty squeezed her hand. “Now you remember to breathe,” he whispered, “and when you see Bennett waiting for you, you forget everything else. Just walk toward your future.”

“You do remember you’re walking me down the aisle, don’t you?” she asked, laughing.

“Oh, honey, I’d never forget that! I get to be the center of attention for a good thirty seconds, walking next to the most beautiful bride in the world.”

* * *

D anielle stood in her cottage bedroom and stared at herself in the full-length mirror.

Her silk dress flowed gracefully from its simple bodice to the floor and caught the light with every movement.

Her hair was arranged in loose waves and had tiny white flowers instead of a veil.

Around her wrist gleamed her something blue, the sapphire bracelet that had been her father’s gift to her mother.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Cecilia said softly from the doorway. “I’ve never seen a more stunning bride.”

Danielle turned to find her mother watching her with uncharacteristic emotion. Cecilia had chosen a dress in a soft shade of rose rather than her normal neutral colors. The color softened her features and made her look younger, but Danielle was never going to tell her that.

“Thanks, Mom. You look beautiful, too.”

Cecilia entered the room and adjusted the delicate gold locket around Danielle’s neck.

“I’m so glad I got to be here today.”

“How are you feeling?” Danielle asked, worry etched onto her face.

Cecilia smiled. “I’m fine. I promise. Today is your day. Don’t worry about me. So, are you ready? Morty says it’s time to leave for the gazebo.”

Danielle took a deep breath. “I am. I’m just a little bit nervous.”

“Well, that’s perfectly normal,” Cecilia said. “I nearly fainted before walking into that courthouse to marry your father.” She smiled at the memory. “But I knew the moment I saw him waiting for me that everything else was going to be okay.”

Morty popped his head into the room. “The golf carts are ready,” he said, checking his watch. “Right on schedule.”

Though the gazebo was within walking distance, they had arranged for the golf carts to be decorated to match the wedding and transport the wedding party.

It was the most glamour they were going to get since they couldn’t bring a limousine over to the island.

“A bride deserves a proper entrance,” Dorothy had declared, and no one had argued with her.

As they got ready to leave, Danielle felt a calm settle over her. The nervous flutter in her stomach turned into something more like peaceful anticipation. In less than an hour, she would be Bennett’s wife. The thought filled her with joy.

The drive to the gazebo took them along the island’s winding paths, past cottages decorated in ribbons and flowers in honor of their occasion. Residents who weren’t even attending the ceremony—although there were few—stood in their yards waving as the small procession passed.

When they reached the bluff overlooking the cove, Danielle caught a glimpse of the wedding site.

It looked like a vision against the blue sky and even bluer water, draped with gauzy fabric that billowed in the breeze.

White chairs had been arranged in a semicircle facing the ocean view, and they were already filled with guests.