“I know you think I don’t like you,” Ophelia stated.

My head snapped up. “Am I wrong?” I was past playing this weird game with her.

She smiled. “You have a lot of mettle. I like it.”

I raised a brow, unsure.

She neatly folded her hands in the lap of her cashmere pants. “Isabelle, my son and his children have been through so much, especially this last year. I’ve been worried Patrick is attempting to simply run away from it all by leaving the family practice and moving here. Then he tells me he’s been reunited with the love of his life. You have to understand how skeptical that has made Marcus and me.”

“I could see that,” I conceded. “But—”

She held up her finger to silence me. “With that said, we have been pleasantly surprised to see how much Patrick and the children are flourishing here. I believe you to be the reason for it.”

I wasn’t sure if I should try to say anything, so I waited.

She reached her hand across the box, looking to take mine.

With hesitation, I offered her my hand, feeling like there was a fifty-fifty chance she might just want the cookbook. But when I gave her my hand, she took ahold of it, gripping tightly. “Isabelle, I apologize for my cold behavior toward you these last several days. I didn’t want to see my son fall headlong into another relationship that would only end in misery. He and the children deserve so much better than what they’ve had. I believe, though, that you are as deserving of them as they are of you. Bridgette has needed a woman who’s not so swallowed up in her own ego that she eats everyone around her alive. Thank you for that. And welcome to the family,” she said, with as much warmth as I think she could muster.

“Thank you. I love your son and grandchildren.”

“I know. As implausible as it seems, I believe it.” She let go of my hand.

I gave her a crooked grin. “I hardly believe it myself.”

She looked around at all the old things. “This inn does have a magical effect. We visited every year while the boys were growing up, and I always left feeling more in love with Marcus. I suppose it’s why we kept coming back. There is something special here.”

“There is. But that’s not the only reason I love Patrick. When we met twenty years ago, something just clicked between us.”

“That, I can understand. I felt the same way when I met Marcus in medical school.”

“I only wish I had been brave enough to listen to my heart back then.”

“It’s understandable; you were young.”

“That’s true.”

“I hope we will be good friends, Isabelle.”

“Oh, of course you will.” Mom sashayed in. Charlotte trailed behind her.

Why was I not surprised?

Mom carried a long, white garment bag. “I thought it would be a good time to try on your wedding dress.”

Charlotte stifled her laugh with a cough.

“Mom,” I whispered, in case anyone was spying on us, “you know we aren’t getting married until at least February.” We hadn’t discussed timing with Bridgette and Rory yet. We’d wanted to get past Christmas and all this weirdness with Dave first.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt,” she sounded zero percent convinced.

I hadn’t even told her I would wear her dress. I wasn’t even sure how it would look on me now. It had been a long time since I’d tried it on, and well, you know, the boobs weren’t what they used to be.

“Come on, Izzy,” Charlotte egged me on.

I gave her the evil eye. She only laughed.

“Fine,” I growled.