Page 132 of Seale the Deal

We separate, and I walk over to Beryl’s table.

These look incredible, I say, picking up a peony.

Don’t you dare try to help, Beryl says, crooking a finger at me. This party is for everyone to help you. Audrey, get her something to drink.

Audrey stands, but I put my hands out. No, no. Please. I want to help. I love this kind of stuff. And I can get myself something to drink.

Beryl seems to consider this for a second, then hands me some fabric. Fine, she says. Let’s see what you’re made of.

She picks up some precut fabric and starts working a threaded needle through. I love watching Beryl work. Even though she’s a bit slower, her years of experience shine.

We work together in silence at first, and I find a rhythm and what works best to create the flowers. I finish a peony and hold it in front of me with a smile.

You have such a patient touch, Audrey says. That’s why everything you create is so beautiful.

I feel my cheeks flush. Thank you. I add my flower to the pile in the middle. What flower now?

I think we need three more peonies, if you’re up to it, Beryl says, sifting through the piles of flowers. I’m hoping if we have enough of this fabric left over, we can also make a maid-of-honour bouquet. She flips through the remaining fabric with a stern eye.

Sounds good. Any particular colour?

The pink again, I think, Beryl says.

I get to work cutting the fabric.

How are you feeling about the big day? Audrey asks, glancing up from her own stack of flowers.

I pause, considering what the most honest answer might be. Strange, I guess. I look around the room filled with laughter and busy hands. Like the more real this all looks, the less I know what I’m doing.

Weddings are stressful, Audrey says gently. I remember the weeks before mine. I was a disaster. But when I saw Jack waiting for me at the end of the aisle, I just… knew I was making the right choice saying ‘I do.’

Beryl smiles warmly at her daughter.

In an alternate universe, I wouldn’t have to say I do. I could just keep dating Ruger and fall more in love with him and the town and the life I’m building here. And while the idea of getting married when this relationship is so new is daunting, to say the least, I find myself taking comfort in something I never expected. A couple of months ago, I arrived in Alpine Harbor knowing almost no one. Now, I’m in a room full of people who made space for me in their community. It adds to the idea that staying here no longer feels impossible.

Even better, the wedding night, Audrey adds with a wink. Married sex is on a whole other level.

Good heavens. Beryl drops her sewing and claps her hands over her ears. I don’t need to hear this.

Oh, come on, Mom. Audrey rolls her eyes. You’ve got grandchildren. The jig is up. I’m not a nun.

Beryl starts humming loudly, and Audrey and I break into laughter.

I look over at Remi, who is busy creating a centrepiece with another woman. Fake spruce and other foliage spill from a rustic wooden box, fake candles of varying heights strategically placed within the greenery. Remi steps back, arms crossed as she studies the arrangement with the seriousness of an art critic evaluating a masterpiece, nodding along as the other woman suggests something.

When she catches my eye, she smiles and mouths, Food?

I nod, then turn to the women at my table. Be right back.

I meet Remi at the food table, where she immediately picks up a tart of some kind.

How’s it going? she asks.

Good, I think, I say as I scan the room. What about you?

You saw the masterpiece at my table, right?

I saw it. It’s gorgeous.