Page 29 of Wisteria Winds
Clara nodded. “I think I am. The weight doesn’t disappear, but somehow it becomes more bearable. Like I’m building up a muscle through repeated use.”
“Grief is strength training,” Bennett said.
“That’s a perspective I haven’t heard before, but it fits. I think here on Wisteria Island, what I’ve seen happen to people is that when they don’t have to carry that grief alone anymore, they realize they can carry it with a group of people, and it makes everything lighter.”
“I’m a work in progress for sure,” Clara said. “Some days are better than others, but this place…” she gestured toward the island behind them. “It helps. All these people have helped, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”
“That’s what I hoped to create here,” he said. “A place of healing and connection. My grandmother used to say the worst thing about growing old wasn’t the physical limitations. It was the loneliness, the feeling of being forgotten or irrelevant.”
“She sounded like a wise woman.”
“She was. I wish…” he paused. “I wish she could have seen this place. I wish she could have lived here. But I was far too young when she passed away. I couldn’t help her, but I can help other people. Or at least I hope I’m helping.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, I should finish my run. Contractors arrive at eight.”
Clara nodded. “I promised to help Janice with something called chair yoga this morning. Apparently, my ‘excellent posture’ makes me qualified as an assistant instructor.”
Bennett laughed. “Welcome to island life, where everyone’s talents get repurposed in all the most unexpected ways.” He started to jog in place, preparing to continue his run. “Oh, and before I forget, Danielle mentioned you were having some issues with your piano. Something about the humidity affecting the tuning?”
Clara sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately. It’s an occupational hazard of coastal living, I suppose. I’ve called a tuner from the mainland, but they can’t come until next week.”
“I might be able to help with that,” Bennett said. “My mom was a piano teacher for a long time. I learned to tune by ear out of necessity. We couldn’t afford a professional when I was a kid. Not all my skills are business-related,” he said with a wink.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s not an imposition. Besides, Danielle’s at a medical conference on the mainland until this evening. I could use the distraction.”
“Well, that would be wonderful. The wedding music really needs to be practiced on a properly tuned instrument.”
“So, this afternoon? Maybe around two?”
“Oh, perfect. I’ll bake you some cookies as payment.”
Bennett laughed. “Deal.”
With a final wave, he continued his run down the beach, disappearing around a bend into the coastline.
Clara looked back toward her cottage, feeling anticipation for the day ahead. It had been months since she’d woken up looking forward to anything, but today she had chair yoga with Janice, lunch with Dorothy, who wanted to discuss music for some mysterious wedding surprise, and now Bennett’s visit to tune her piano.
A full day. A good day.
She walked home in the strengthening sunlight and found herself humming one of Robert’s melodies. It was a piece he’d written after they spent a summer in Provence, full of light and warmth. For the first time, the music brought more comfort than pain.
CHAPTER 8
Danielle adjusted her dress as she waited in the lobby of the Atlanta hotel where her mother was staying during a brief professional conference. They had planned this lunch weeks ago, before Cecilia’s visit to the island and before the wedding planning had brought them together again.
The elegant restaurant was a far cry from the cafeteria on Wisteria Island, with its crisp white tablecloths and hovering waitstaff. Danielle used to go to places like this all the time, but now she felt slightly out of place in her simple sundress.
“Danielle, darling!”
She turned to see Cecilia walking toward her, looking every inch the distinguished professional in her tailored navy dress and pearls.
“Mom, you look wonderful,” Danielle said, hugging her. “How was your panel this morning?”
“Interesting, though the moderator could have managed his time better. He’s a virologist from Johns Hopkins, and he went seven minutes over his allotted time.” Cecilia rolled her eyes. “But enough about academia. Let’s sit. I have been looking forward to this all day.”
They were shown to a table by the window overlooking the hotel’s manicured gardens. After ordering, Cecilia stuck to her usual niçoise salad, and Danielle opted for the special. They fell into conversation about wedding plans again.
“So, Dorothy and I found the perfect linens the other day,” Cecilia started. “A subtle pattern. It complements the floral arrangements without competing with them. And Morty has hired some young fella from the mainland to handle lighting. Apparently, he does work in film production in Savannah.”
