Page 26 of Wisteria Winds
Dorothy looked up from the table where she and Cecilia were arranging fabric swatches.
“Of course it is, darling. It’s June in South Carolina. Afternoon thunderstorms are practically mandatory.”
“But what about the gazebo being constructed?” Morty said, fretting. “They’ve only just started, and now they’ll have to stop for days. It’s going to delay everything.”
“Concrete needs time to cure,” Cecilia said. “A day’s pause won’t significantly impact the timeline.”
Morty sighed dramatically and flopped onto Dorothy’s emerald green velvet sofa. “I just don’t handle setbacks well.”
“Yes, we’ve noticed,” Dorothy drawled, looking at Cecilia with amusement.
The three had fallen into an unexpected routine over the past week, meeting daily to plan different aspects of the wedding. What had started as a power struggle had turned into a surprisingly effective collaboration.
“Now, about the table arrangements,” Cecilia continued. “I think we should group the residents by their interests instead of trying to do a traditional seating chart. I think it’s more in keeping with the community spirit of the island.”
“Just brilliant,” Dorothy agreed. “Like, the book club members can sit together because they’re quite boring. The card players can sit together because they’re, well, quite annoying.”
“And the beach walkers - the troublemakers,” Morty added with a grin. “That table’s probably going to be pretty large.”
“And those nude beach people… well, maybe we don’t invite them,” Dorothy said, laughing. Cecilia looked at her with confusion.
A sharp crack of thunder punctuated his words, and he put his hand to his chest. A downpour came so suddenly and intensely that it obscured his view from the window. The rain hammered against the roof.
“My goodness,” Cecilia said. “That is quite dramatic.”
“Yes, weather tends to be theatrical here,” Dorothy said. “Brief but intense performances, usually followed by an encore of sunshine.”
Morty’s phone buzzed with a text.
“It’s Danielle,” he said. “She and Bennett are stranded at the gazebo site. The rain started before they could make it back. So they’ve taken shelter in a construction trailer.”
“How inconvenient,” Cecilia said.
“Perhaps,” Dorothy said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Or maybe it’s the universe arranging a romantic interlude for our lovebirds. Nothing like being trapped together during a storm.”
“Dorothy!” Morty said, acting as though he was scandalized while he was really delighted. “They’re already engaged.”
“Engagement doesn’t preclude romance, darling. Quite the opposite.”
Cecilia laughed under her breath. “You know, it reminds me of how my husband proposed, actually. We were caught in a downpour in Central Park. Ended up sheltering in Belvedere Castle, soaking wet and laughing like a couple of fools. He proposed right there with no ring and no plan.”
“You and your husband were married when he passed away?” Morty asked.
She laughed. “Oh no. We had been divorced for quite some time. I’ve found that sometimes the biggest romances turn into the biggest mistakes,” Cecilia said, rolling her eyes. “Although I did get Danielle from that, so I can’t say it was a mistake. But Harold was not the best husband to me, or any of the other wives he had after me.”
Morty and Dorothy exchanged glances. In all of their planning sessions, Cecilia had rarely mentioned anything about her late husband, much less shared anything personal.
“Well, was your wedding grand?” Morty asked.
Cecilia shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. We were broke graduate students. Justice of the peace. Dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant with a few close friends. You know, I always told myself that that was why I wanted something so elaborate for Danielle - to give her what I never had. But maybe what I had was perfect in its own way at the time.”
“Well, love doesn’t require grandeur,” Dorothy said. “Though it certainly deserves celebration.”
“When do you have to get back to New York?” Morty asked.
“Honestly, I took a bit of a leave of absence.”
“Oh, Danielle didn’t tell us that,” Morty said.
