Page 2 of Wisteria Winds
At the mention of her husband, Clara’s eyes filled with tears. Her lower lip trembled as she tried to maintain her composure.
“Thirty-six years. We had thirty-six wonderful years together. I don’t know how I’m going to do life without him.”
Danielle reached out, took her hand, and offered a gentle squeeze.
“You’re not alone, Clara. These people, this island—well, we all care for each other here. We’re family, and I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’ll find your way again, a new way. Until you do, we’ll be here to help you. There are lots of men and women on this island who understand losing a spouse. Please try to make friends and get some support that way, too.”
Clara looked at Danielle. “Thank you. I think that I’m going to need a lot of help. Probably more than I realized.” She paused for a moment. “So, would you like to come inside?” Clara asked after a few moments. “I mean, I can’t offer much. I just moved in. I haven’t even unpacked the kitchen yet, but I think I might be able to manage making some tea.”
Danielle smiled. “I’d like that very much.”
The inside of Clara’s cottage showed her grief. There were half-unpacked boxes stacked haphazardly all over the living room, some labeled in a precise masculine hand that had to have been her late husband’s, and then a grand piano dominated one corner. Danielle couldn’t imagine how they had gotten it onto the island. It was clearly untouched since her arrival, with its polished surface already collecting some dust.
Clara entered the small kitchen, filled a kettle, and set it on the stove. She was performing the movements like it was something she just remembered but no longer enjoyed.
“That piano is beautiful,” Danielle said, hoping to start a conversation.
Clara looked over at it. “You know, Robert gave me that on our twentieth anniversary. I haven’t been able to bring myself to play it since…” She trailed off, looking at the teacups.
“So, music was a shared passion.”
“Oh, it was our life,” Clara said, a hint of happiness returning to her voice. “We met during a summer program. I was conducting a youth orchestra. He was the guest conductor for a symphony orchestra. He came to one of my rehearsals and told me he had never seen anyone command a room the way I did. He said my hands spoke a language he’d been trying to learn his whole life.”
“Wow, he sounds like a remarkable man,” Danielle said.
“Oh, he was. And handsome, Hollywood handsome.” The kettle whistled, and Clara poured steaming water into a teapot. “But enough about my troubles. Tell me about this island. It’s very different from anywhere I’ve lived before.”
Danielle sat with Clara and told her things about the island. She told her about some of the biggest personalities, like Morty. She told her about the activities they did and how it worked with her being the island nurse. But mostly, she just kept Clara company for as long as she could.
As Danielle sat with Clara, listening as she shared stories of her husband and their beautiful life together, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. This is why she became a nurse - not just to treat people’s physical ailments but to provide support, comfort, and even a listening ear when somebody needed it the most.
The wedding planning could wait.
Her most important role right now was to be there for Clara and the other residents of Wisteria Island as they navigated life. Together, they would help Clara heal and find her place among them.
Morty was hunched over his laptop, his reading glasses perched precariously at the end of his nose. The screen’s glow lit up his face as he scrolled through page after page, his eyes widening with each new discovery.
“Oh, my stars,” he muttered to himself.
He could barely contain his excitement. He had never gotten to do anything like this.
“This is perfect. It’s absolutely perfect,” he said, throwing up his hands.
On the screen before him was Pinterest, which had turned out to be a virtual treasure trove of wedding inspiration. From color palettes to centerpieces, boutonnieres to bouquets, Morty was deeply in his element. He had taken it upon himself to help plan the wedding of the century for Danielle and Bennett, the two people who had become like family to him on their little island.
“Rustic chic. Oh, no, no, no. That simply will not do. Oh, but this—a beach boho theme,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Oh, my goodness! Look at those touches of coastal glam.”
Morty was practically bouncing in his seat as his mind raced with ideas. He began feverishly creating Pinterest boards, pinning images of driftwood arbors draped in gauzy fabrics and tables covered in seashells and sand dollars. He imagined barefoot bridesmaids wearing flowy seafoam green dresses. In his mind, this would be unlike any other celebration Wisteria Island had ever seen.
“Oh, my goodness, Danielle is going to love this,” he said to himself, grinning so hard that he feared his cheeks would hurt later. “Oh, and Bennett, too. I just can’t wait to show them.”
Nobody was there, but Morty was accustomed to talking to himself. He’d done it since he was a little kid. And the great thing was, he always agreed with what he said.
He knew some people might find his enthusiasm a bit much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never had the chance to plan a wedding before, let alone for the two people that he cared about so deeply. This was his chance to show Danielle and Bennett just how much they meant to him and the whole island community.
A knock at the door interrupted Morty’s planning frenzy. He pushed his laptop aside and walked to the door, still muttering something about fairy lights to himself.
“Oh, Janice, what a wonderful surprise,” he said, finding the pink-haired square dancer on his doorstep.
