Page 134 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Ivy. Ivy, my mom, Michelle.” Oliver gestures between us, and I reach out to shake Michelle’s hand.

“Oliver’s told me so much about you, Ivy.” Michelle’s smile is warm. “Truly, only good things.”

I’m not totally sure how to respond, because he’s told me all kinds of things about his mother, most of which aren’t very positive. So I just return her smile and say how lovely it is to meet her.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Oliver offers.

“You think so?” Michelle drinks in his approval. “I wasn’t sure, at first. I didn’t know if the flowers would be too much.”

“The flowers were gorgeous,” I add.

Oliver’s mom seems overcome with emotion. “I’m just so grateful to you both for being here.” Her eyes well up. “It…it truly means the world to me, Oliver.”

As she radiates love to him, I feel the tension in his arm, which my elbow is still linked around, start to dissipate.

“Thanks for inviting us,” he finally replies.

“Tell me about your bookstore.” Michelle’s eyes light up. “I want to hear everything.”

I let them volley tentative questions back and forth, building a hesitant connection that I suspect they’ve both waited years for. Nothing can right the wrongs of the past, but I’m so glad that the future is looking a little bit brighter.

The reception is held outdoors, overlooking the ocean. The dance floor is under a tent, filled with revelers and pink roses. Oliver introduces me to what feels like three hundred of his relatives, to the point where I think my face might freeze with a permanent smile.

As it turns out, he actually undersold the lunacy of his Aunt Marcy, but I manage to escape that conversation when a fresh batch of hors d’oeuvres is set out.

“So, how do you think it went?” I ask him from a quiet corner of the tent. We’ve been sipping champagne and watching the sun set over the Atlantic.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I think I’m glad we came.”

“Yeah?” My brows rise in anticipation.

Oliver nods. “It doesn’t take away everything that happened. But I’m ready to set it down.” He takes a deep breath, fixing me with a poignant glance. “It’s time to move on.”

My heart dances around in my chest. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Just then, a very familiar brassy melody picks up from the bandstand. It takes me right back to that night at Harbor Lights, when Oliver told me it was his favorite Van Morrison song and held me for the first time.

Oliver reaches for my hand. “Want to dance?” His eyes twinkle, like they want me to know he’s the one behind this musical choice.

Before I can respond, he leans over and kisses me deeply, then whispers, “They’re playing our song.”

thirty-nine

“Wow, I love what you’ve done with the place,” Dad says, hefting two enormous blue duffels onto the new white sofa in the living room.

“Thanks,” I reply, glancing with pride at the nautical artwork I bought to match Simon’s. I wanted Beach Haven to be faithful to its roots.

My father moves closer to inspect the shelves by the fireplace. His gaze stops on the three framed photographs I’ve added above the mantel.

On the left is the portrait of Eleanor at the beach in 1953, grinning at the camera. On the right, a candid shot of Simon sitting on the porch out front. And in the middle, the photo of Charlie beaming love out to Simon, his eager photographer.

“They’re beautiful.” Dad’s voice catches on the words.

My mother steps closer and rests her arm around his shoulders, then rubs his back comfortingly.

I blink back tears. “I wanted them all to be together.”

My father clears his throat. “It’s perfect.”