Page 38 of Wisteria Winds
Cecilia laughed, picturing Morty’s enthusiastic but occasionally chaotic assistance. “He means well.”
“Well, they all do,” came a voice from behind them.
Danielle approached, looking pretty in her simple sundress with her hair twisted up.
“Dear, I thought you were at the clinic,” Cecilia said, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
“I just finished. Dr. Patel has everything well in hand.” She looked at the finished gazebo. “Mom, it looks beautiful. You’ve transformed this place into something magical.”
Cecilia felt an unexpected surge of emotion. “You know I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“And it is,” Danielle said, hugging her impulsively.
Janice tactfully gathered her supplies. “I’m just going to take these back to the community center. Morty’s doing a final review of the table settings.”
Janice walked off as Danielle and Cecilia stood together in the gazebo, the ocean breeze gently dancing with the draped fabric.
“You know,” Danielle said, “when I first told you I wanted my wedding here, I never imagined you would do all of this. I thought we’d just set up a few chairs on the beach and that would be that, and then you’d go back to New York City and nothing would change.”
“Well, that would have been charming, I suppose, in its own way. But some occasions deserve proper recognition.”
“Is that why you and Dad never renewed your vows or had big anniversary celebrations? Because your original wedding wasn’t proper in your eyes?”
“Well, perhaps. But your father and I had our own issues, though he always said our courthouse wedding was perfect precisely because it was about us and there were no distractions. And he claimed the best wedding gift was not having to remember which fork to use at a formal reception.”
Danielle laughed. “That sounds just like Dad.”
“Oh, but he would have loved this, you know,” Cecilia said. “Not necessarily the event itself, but what it represents. You finding your place, your person, and your purpose all at the same time.”
“I wish he could be here,” Danielle said.
“And I do too, for your benefit.” Cecilia reached for her daughter’s hand. “I can say confidently that he would be so proud of you and of the choices you’ve made and the life you’ve built.”
“Even though they weren’t the choices you wanted for me?”
Cecilia sighed. “I wanted success and security for you, and I thought I knew exactly what that should look like. But seeing you here with Bennett and your community, I know now that you found something I didn’t even know to wish for you. And it comes along with its own success and security.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Danielle said.
“I should have said it long ago, but I’m not particularly good at expressing… you know… feelings.” Cecilia scrunched her nose as if the word was foreign to her. “It’s a professional hazard. Science demands objectivity.”
“You’re not just a scientist, Mom. You’re also a person. A mother. A woman.”
“I know. And I’m trying to be a better one of all of those.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. “I have something else for you. Not your something blue - we’re saving that for the ceremony. This is just something I thought you might like to have.”
Danielle accepted the pouch and carefully opened it, tipping the contents into her palm. A delicate gold locket gleamed in the sunlight.
“That was your grandmother’s,” Cecilia said. “My mother wore it on her wedding day, and I wore it on mine.”
She opened the locket to find two tiny photographs—one of her parents on their wedding day and one of her grandparents.
“I thought perhaps we might add a picture of you and Bennett. A sort of family tradition, if you’d like.”
Danielle closed her hand around the locket. “I would love that, Mom. Thank you.”
They stood together, looking at the ocean view framed by the gazebo’s elegant columns. Three generations of women, their marriages, their lives, all connected by the simple gold locket.
“Now then,” Cecilia said, moving back to practicality, “we should check on the final flower delivery. The orchids from Charleston are due this afternoon, and Dorothy’s convinced they need her personal inspection before we can arrange them.”
