Page 7 of Wisteria Winds (Wisteria Island #2)

C lara sat on her porch in the morning, sipping tea and watching the island come to life.

After her music session recently, she’d slept so much better than she had in months.

Although the familiar ache of grief was still ever-present, it just felt a little bit less overwhelming. She felt a little bit less alone.

A movement caught her eye. A tall, elegant woman was walking along the path.

She wasn’t one of the regular residents.

She definitely didn’t look like she belonged here.

But something about her reminded Clara of symphony board members she’d dealt with throughout her career—confident, sophisticated, and used to being in charge.

The woman walked closer and noticed Clara. She paused.

“Good morning,” she called. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Cecilia Wright, Danielle’s mother.”

Clara set down her teacup. “Clara Whitman. I’m actually new to the island.”

“Do you mind if I join you? I’m just taking my morning walk, trying to get acquainted with the place.”

“Oh, please,” Clara said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.

Cecilia settled gracefully onto the porch and looked around the cottage.

“So you’ve recently arrived as well? What brings you to this unique community?”

There was something in her tone that suggested she was trying to understand the appeal of the island, and Clara found herself unexpectedly defensive about her new home.

“I lost my husband six months ago,” she said. “We spent decades traveling the world for our careers, and I felt like I needed somewhere quiet to recalibrate.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a spouse changes everything, I would assume. Especially after a long marriage.”

Clara nodded. “It does. Suddenly, your future plans vanish, and you’re left wondering what comes next.”

“What was your career, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was in an orchestra. I was also a conductor for twenty years. My husband as well.”

Cecilia’s eyes showed genuine interest. “Oh, how fascinating. I’ve always envied people who have musical talent. My research work keeps me firmly in the realm of science and data.”

“Research?”

“Epidemiology. I specialize in infectious disease control and pandemic preparedness.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds very important.”

“It is,” Cecilia said. “Although sometimes I wonder if I focus too much on my career at the expense of other things that are more important in life.” She looked down the road toward Danielle’s cottage.

“Children grow up so quickly, and then suddenly they’re making all kinds of life decisions you never anticipated. ”

Clara smiled. “So you’re here about Danielle’s wedding plans?”

“Well, I’m trying to provide guidance, yes. Though I’m discovering that my daughter and her soon-to-be husband have definite ideas of their own.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. They both strike me as people who know their own minds.”

“Well, Danielle always has,” Cecilia said with a slight smile. “Even as a child, she was determined to chart her own course. I wanted her to be a research physician just like me, but she insisted on hands-on patient care.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“You know, Bennett seems very devoted to this place and to Danielle. They both have been so very kind to me,” Clara said. “When I arrived here, I was in a dark place, and they’ve really gone out of their way to make me feel welcome.”

“Well, I suppose that’s what matters the most, isn’t it? Finding people who truly care.”

Before Clara could say anything else, they were interrupted by the arrival of Morty, who ran up the path with his usual enthusiasm.

“Clara, good morning! Oh, Dr. Wright, what a pleasant surprise.” He smiled at both of them. “I was coming to invite Clara to our planning meeting this afternoon. Dorothy and I are discussing wedding flowers, and Clara agreed to help us with the music, so I thought she should be involved.”

“Wedding flowers?” Cecilia said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yes. We’re thinking wisteria, of course, but we also need other flowers. Maybe some white roses or some sea lavender for a coastal touch. Dorothy insists that we need something dramatic for the ceremony arch, but I think she’s thinking about cascading orchids to make it very cinematic.”

Clara watched Cecilia’s expression.

“Orchids would be lovely,” Cecilia said, “though they are notoriously difficult to keep fresh in an outdoor setting.”

“You know about flowers?” Morty said, his eyes widening.

“I chaired the New York Botanical Garden Benefit for five years. One picks up a few things,” Cecilia said.

“Well, then you simply must join us! Dorothy would be thrilled to meet you, and we could use your expertise. How about three o’clock at the community center?”

Cecilia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Well, I suppose I could stop by. It’s not like I have a whole lot else to do on this island. I’d be there purely in an advisory capacity, of course.”

“Of course,” Morty agreed. “Clara, can you come too?”

Clara nodded, seeming to get caught up in Morty’s infectious enthusiasm. “I’ll be there.”

As Morty hurried off to spread the news, Cecilia turned to Clara.

“Is he always so exuberant?”

Clara offered, “I mean, from what I’ve seen so far, yes. There’s something very refreshing about his enthusiasm, especially on an island full of retired people.”

“Indeed,” Cecilia said, standing up from her chair. “Well, I suppose I should continue my exploration of Wisteria Island. It was lovely meeting you, Clara, and maybe I’ll see you at the planning session later.”

* * *

B ennett sat at his desk reviewing quarterly financial reports.

Even though he lived in an idyllic island setting, maintaining this community of older people required very careful financial management.

Between the health care costs, infrastructure maintenance, and salaries for the staff, the expenses were substantial.

And although his technology investments continued to perform well, it was all on him to provide the necessary funding.

A knock at his office door interrupted his concentration.

“Come in,” he called. As he looked up, he found Naomi, his assistant, standing there with a concerned expression and her hands on her hips.

“Sorry to bother you, but there’s quite a situation at the community center that might need your attention.”

Bennett sighed, pushing his papers aside. “What kind of situation?”

“Well, Morty and Dorothy have taken over the main room for wedding planning, which was fine at first, but now Dr. Wright has joined them, and let’s just say things are getting a bit heated.”

“Heated how?”

Naomi winced. “I think there’s some kind of disagreement about color schemes and flower arrangements, and maybe the entire concept of even having a beach wedding. I heard the phrase ‘sand in Louboutins’ mentioned several times.”

Bennett rubbed his temples. “And where’s Danielle?”

“She’s at the clinic with Mamie. She’s had another episode with her blood pressure.”

“Of course,” Bennett said. “I’ll handle it.”

He made his way to the community center and mentally prepared for diplomatic negotiations with Danielle’s mother. Cecilia was a formidable opponent, but he suspected she wasn’t entirely against the island wedding. She just wanted to make sure it was an elegant affair.

The scene that greeted him was even more chaotic than he’d anticipated.

The large table in the center of the room was covered in flower catalogs, fabric swatches, and what looked like architectural sketches of some sort of elaborate structure.

Morty and Dorothy stood to one side, gesturing animatedly, while Cecilia stood there, clearly composed but firm on the other side.

Clara sat slightly apart, looking slightly amused but more overwhelmed than anything.

This was not a good first impression of the island when it came to Clara.

“A tent is simply not sufficient protection against the elements,” Cecilia said, “and if you insist on an outdoor ceremony, we need a proper pavilion with a solid roof.”

“The tent has a romantic, ethereal quality,” Morty argued, as he held his hands in the air like he was catching butterflies or something, “all billowing in the breeze like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Until that breeze becomes a sandstorm and then the whole thing collapses on the bride, who happens to be my daughter,” Cecilia said, putting her hand on her hip.

Dorothy looked glamorous as always, wearing her silk caftan and oversized sunglasses indoors for reasons Bennett would never understand. She nodded.

“Cecilia has a point, darling. I remember when I filmed Summer Storms in ’62. An unexpected squall destroyed the entire set. Ruined three Dior gowns and gave poor Rock Hudson a concussion when a palm tree fell on him.”

Bennett cleared his throat, drawing all of their attention. “I see wedding planning is well underway.”

“Bennett!” Morty exclaimed. “Thank goodness you’re here. Perhaps you can help us resolve some creative differences.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you want weighing in on design decisions,” Bennett said, “but I am interested in what it is you’re all planning.”

Cecilia set her gaze on him. “I was trying to explain the practical considerations of an outdoor wedding. I know it sounds really romantic to have a beach ceremony, but there are significant logistical challenges.”

“Which we’re prepared to address,” Bennett said. “What specific concerns do you have?”

“Weather contingencies, for one,” Cecilia replied. “Guest comfort, for another. And honestly, the level of sophistication is just not possible in such a setting.”

“All valid points. But what if we could combine the natural beauty of the island with the elegance and security you’re concerned about?”

“I’m listening,” Cecilia said, crossing her arms.