Page 8 of Wisteria Winds
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a long moment, it opened with a crack, revealing Dorothy’s elegantly aged face.
“Morty, good lord, what on earth are you doing here at this hour?”
“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, Dorothy,” he laughed. “Hardly the crack of dawn.”
She waved a dismissive hand as she opened the door wider. “You know, I was in the middle of my beauty regimen. This doesn’t happen by accident, you know.” She gestured at her immaculately made-up face.
“And you look absolutely fabulous, darling, as always. May I come in? I have a proposition for you.”
Dorothy narrowed her eyes suspiciously but opened the door and allowed him in.
“This had better be good. And if my face doesn’t get moisturized properly, I’m going to look like I have elephant skin.”
Morty stepped into the lavishly decorated cottage and was still impressed by Dorothy’s Hollywood glamor. He’d visited her many times before, of course. They were fairly good friends, or as close of a friend as you could be to Dorothy.
She led him to a sitting area that had framed movie posters and awards from her illustrious career and pointed toward the emerald green velvet sofa that she’d kept from her home in Hollywood decades ago.
“So what’s this proposition?” she asked, lighting a cigarette with a gold lighter. Morty had tried to get her to quit the habit, but she still thought it was glamorous and said she was so old now that it didn’t matter what cigarettes did to her body. She felt like she had cheated fate for years.
“It’s about Danielle and Bennett’s wedding. I’m helping plan it, and I need someone with, well, let’s just say star quality to make it truly special.”
Dorothy looked interested. “Go on.”
“Well, you were the queen of romantic films in your day. No one understood love and drama better than you did, and your taste is obviously impeccable.” He gestured around her home. “I need your expertise to make this the most memorable wedding Wisteria Island has ever seen.”
“Has Wisteria Island ever seen a wedding?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“Well, flattery will get you everywhere, Morty,” she said. “But why should I care about their wedding?”
Morty leaned forward. “Because Danielle is one of the few people who has never treated you like a relic or a curiosity. She sees you as a person, not just a former star. And because,” he paused dramatically, “I happen to know that her mother, Cecilia Wright, is a huge fan of yours. She arrived today and will be trying to convince Danielle to have a big society wedding in New York instead of here on the island.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened. “Cecilia Wright. Isn’t that… isn’t her mother some big doctor? Some brilliant woman?”
“Yes, she is. And she’s determined to take this wedding away from us unless we can prove the island can host something so spectacular that she couldn’t do the same in New York City. I mean, think of it. If they took the wedding off the island, we wouldn’t be able to attend, and I know you like to attend a fancy event.”
Dorothy took a long drag on her cigarette. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? I mean, this island might be full of eccentrics, but this is our home. And she’s part of our family. And I do owe Danielle for her discretion… regarding my medical issues.”
Morty beamed. “So you’ll help me?”
“I’ll do more than help, darling. I’ll ensure this wedding is so fabulous that even Cecilia Wright will be impressed.” She stubbed out her cigarette. “Now, tell me everything you’ve planned so far, and then we’ll figure out where you’ve gone wrong.”
“Dr. Wright, it’s Bennett Alexander. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Bennett stood at the door of Cecilia’s guest cottage, wearing his best tailored slacks and a crisp button-down shirt, even though the island was a pretty casual atmosphere. Cecilia opened the door and looked refreshed after her journey. He figured she must have gotten a good nap.
“Not at all, Bennett. And please, I insist you call me Cecilia.”
“Well, I thought you might enjoy a nice island tour before dinner, get your bearings, and maybe meet some of our residents.”
“That sounds lovely,” Cecilia said, slipping on a pair of comfortable walking shoes and holding her heels in her hand. “Lead the way!”
They strolled along the winding paths of Wisteria Island as Bennett pointed out different amenities - the community center with its library and game room, the small medical clinic where Danielle spent most of her days, and the charming open-air market they had just started, where residents sold homemade crafts and baked goods.
“Wow, you’ve really created a self-contained little world here.”
“Well, that was the goal,” Bennett said. “You know, a place where people can age with dignity and independence and be surrounded by friends, community, and beauty. My grandmother spent her final years in a sterile facility where she was treated mostly like a burden rather than a person who held a lifetime of wisdom and had stories to share. But I was way too young back then to do anything about it, and the first moment I had the chance, I bought this island.”
