Sunset In Central Park (20 page)

Frankie’s expression turned from surprise to wonder and she glanced at Brittany. “You’re a gardener?”

“Hell, no. I’m an archaeologist. I’m more likely to kill the plants while I’m digging than do anything healing to them. This garden was my grandmother’s baby. She spent every
spare moment here. She passed away a few years ago, but one of her friends—our neighbor—still comes and tends it.”

“It’s beautiful. Calming. Unbelievable for a coastal garden—how does it survive the harsh winters?”

“No idea. You’d think all the plants would freeze like the rest of us.”

“It’s not the freezing that’s a problem, it’s the thawing. You want them to remain dormant.” Frankie bent down and examined the soil in the bed nearest to her. “Seaweed mulch.”

“Yeah?” Brittany glanced at Matt and grinned. “If you say so.”

“It’s great for the soil and the slugs hate it.”

“Grams fought a constant war against slugs.” Brittany pushed her hands into her pockets. “You think there’s something here that can make a decent bouquet for Em?”

“Plenty. Is there anything you don’t want me to touch?”

“Strip it bare if you need to.”

“
Phlox Carolina
—the white one.” Frankie walked toward the border closest to her. “We call it wedding flox. And there’s
Leucanthemum vulgare
—” She was talking to herself, distracted, excited as she stepped eagerly into the garden, and Brittany raised a questioning eyebrow toward Matt, who shrugged.

“I don’t know what that is, either, but no one knows flowers like Frankie so we can leave her to it.”

“Great. In that case, I’m going to finish getting ready. Feel free to use the kitchen table to assemble your masterpiece. Yell if you need anything. And don’t let Zach feed Jaws any of the bacon.”

She left them to it and Frankie dug her sketches out of her bag.

Matt watched her. “What can I do?”

“Stand still and hold whatever I hand you.” She moved around the garden like a butterfly, pausing, admiring, snipping and gathering.

In under ten minutes she had a large armful of flowers and foliage. “I can work with this. Let’s take this through to the kitchen and I can start making up bouquets.”

The kitchen of Castaway Cottage was the heart of the house. A large table dominated the center of the room, and shelves were adorned with driftwood, jars of sea glass and shells.

Matt could imagine Frankie sitting there, lost and confused by what was happening at home.

The front door was open and Jaws ambled in and out freely, trailing sand from the beach beyond. Sunlight played over the polished floorboards and the rug in striped blue tones added to the beachy feel.

It was at times like this when he missed the island.

In the height of the summer it was idyllic, but Matt knew that when winter came the place would take on a different feel. Snow would blanket the roads and the garden, turning it into a mysterious frozen wonderland. The community would be stripped down to locals and a few die-hard winter sports enthusiasts.

Zach put mugs of strong coffee on the table. “I cooked bacon and there are fresh rolls in the basket. Help yourselves. It will be a long time until you eat. I’m going to change.” He walked out of the room and Matt filled a roll with bacon while Frankie worked.

“You should eat something. You must be starving after all that exercise.”

“I’ll eat in a minute. I have three of these to make.”

“Give me a job.”

“Could you cut me some lengths of string?” Frankie pushed it toward him and went back to work with the flowers.

He cut string and watched as she transformed a heap of flowers into a stunning bridal bouquet. Her fingers worked swiftly as she snipped stems and twisted leaves.

“For someone who hates weddings you’re certainly good at this.”

“This isn’t about weddings, this is about flowers. And it’s not going to be perfect. It would have helped to see the dress, but it’s the best I can do.”

Her best was impressive. She held up the bouquet, a froth of creamy white blooms with delicate floral tendrils tumbling like a train.

He knew nothing about bridal bouquets but even he could see the artistry in her creation.

“Wow.” Brittany paused in the doorway, “You have real talent.”

Frankie gave her a quick smile. “Thank you. One down, two more to go.”

Interesting, Matt thought, that she accepted the compliment from a woman without question but whenever he did the same thing she floundered and flapped.

Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that the compliment had been work-related rather than personal.

Brittany poured herself a coffee and watched as Frankie tied the other two bouquets. “Awesome. Are you done? If so, we should probably get going. Half the island is waiting for us.”

Matt saw Frankie’s expression change. So did Brittany.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I—” She paused. “I haven’t been back to the island in a long time, that’s all.”

“Is that a problem? Are you worried about not knowing many people? Because Zach and I can introduce you and—”

“That’s not it. If people don’t know me, that’s probably better.” Frankie put the scissors down carefully. “My family isn’t very popular around here and the locals have long memories.”

“Now I’m intrigued.” Brittany finished her coffee as Zach walked back into the room. “What did you say your last name was?”

“Cole.”

Brittany opened her mouth to speak again but it was Zach who stepped forward. He put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Whatever your reputation, it will be eclipsed by mine. I’m the big bad wolf of the island. They’ll be too busy frowning at me to notice you.”

“They’re not that bad.” Brittany tidied up the table, gathering up pieces of stem and leaves. “They’ve accepted you. Mostly.”

“Exactly. I often feel as if I’m still on trial. They’re waiting for me to step out of line.” But Zach looked more amused than annoyed and Brittany hooked her finger into the front of his shirt and tugged him toward her.

“Just so we’re clear, I love it when you step out of line.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed him briefly on the mouth, then turned back to Frankie. “Don’t worry about the locals. You will have a hero’s welcome. And now we should go or Emily will start freaking out.”

Zach raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen her freak out.”

“She freaks out in a quiet, tense way, and I don’t want her
freaking out. I don’t want this baby arriving in the middle of the wedding.” Brittany strode around the kitchen stuffing various items into her purse. “So there’s a party tonight at the Ocean Club. I hope you’re both coming? Dance until your feet ache and all that.”

Matt wondered how Frankie would react to that but she nodded.

“If the locals haven’t chased me off the island by then, that would be fun.”

“No one is chasing you anywhere.” Brittany placed the bouquets carefully in a box. “I texted Ryan and he’s bringing every ribbon Lizzy owns. She’s insisting on wearing a tiara and fairy wings. We’ll meet him at the beach and make a decision about which is best.” She glanced at them. “Are you guys going to change? Because you might as well do that here. Saves you flashing the locals in the beach parking lot.”

Matt fetched their clothes from the car.

Frankie changed into the jumpsuit made of emerald-green silk, which made her eyes look luminous and brought out the bright copper shades in her hair.

Distracted, Matt fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks.” But her smile was anxious and he knew that despite Brittany’s reassurances, she was worried.

As they pulled into the beach parking lot he turned to look at her.

“You’re going to have fun, I promise. You look great, although random amazing sex would be easier if you wore a dress or a skirt.”

“Callum Becket thought the same thing in tenth grade, which is why I never wear dresses.”

It was the first time she’d told him anything specific about that time when she’d lived at home.

People were pouring past them on their way to the beach but Matt didn’t move.

“What happened?”

“My mom had just broken up his parents’ marriage. He was mad and full of raging teenage hormones. He seemed to think that as our parents were at it like rabbits, we might as well do the same. We were at the prom and he got two of his friends to hold me down while he stuck his hand up my dress. My new red dress. I’d been so excited about wearing it—” Her breathing quickened, but she must have seen the expression on his face because she gave a quick smile. “Don’t worry—Paige and Eva appeared just in time. Without his friends, Callum was pretty weak. I almost broke his wrist. He couldn’t write for a few days. But I decided I didn’t want it to happen again so I gave up wearing skirts except when school demanded it. And I took up karate so if it ever happened again I’d be able to floor the guy with a scissor kick. And now I’ve probably scared you.”

“Are you kidding?” What he felt was anger, but he didn’t tell her that. “It’s incredibly sexy having a girlfriend who can floor me with a scissor kick. Anytime you want to try that, go ahead.”

“How is it you manage to make me smile about things I never smile about?”

He slid his hand into her hair and brought her mouth to his. “Callum isn’t going to be here, in case you were worried about that. The Beckets left the island years ago, so there is zero chance of you bumping into him.” He felt her relax.

“Good. Because I wouldn’t have wanted to have to break his other hand.”

“I would have done that for you.”

“Really? You seem like a man who uses intellect and reason to solve most problems.”

“That’s always my first approach. But I’ve been known to revert to Plan B when the situation calls for it.” He hid his anger behind a smile. “We should go. They’re waiting for these flowers.”

They walked down the path to the beach but as they rounded the corner, Frankie stopped.

“That’s quite a crowd. I hadn’t expected so many people.”

“They’re a friendly crowd, Frankie.”

She stirred. “Let’s hope so.”

He hoped so, too, otherwise he’d be tempted to put Plan B into action.

I
t felt as if most of the island had turned up at South Beach to see Ryan marry Emily.

The beach was a splash of color, with outfits ranging from swimwear to floaty silk. Chairs had been placed in rows on the sand, and the cries of the seagulls and the crashing of the waves were interspersed with laughing children and barking dogs.

Everyone seemed to know each other and Frankie stood still, poised on the edge, feeling like the outsider. If she lingered here, perhaps no one would notice her and once the ceremony started she could melt away unseen.

She was about to run that plan past Matt when Ryan spotted them. He strode across the beach and pulled Frankie into a hug. “You’re the hero of the hour. You shouldn’t be hovering at the edge of the beach—you should be right in the front row. You’re our guest of honor.”

Front row?

Frankie’s stomach lurched. Sitting right in the front would mean there would be nowhere to hide. She’d be right there, watching while they exchanged vows. She’d be expected to wear a soppy, dreamy look on her face. It wasn’t a look she’d perfected. “No! I couldn’t possibly—you must have lots of people who—”

“Oh, Ryan is right, you must—” This time it was Hilda who spoke, and a pretty blonde woman with two children close by added her voice to the general atmosphere of persuasion.

“There’s definitely room up there. I’m Lisa, by the way. I own Summer Scoop, the ice cream shop on Main Street. If you have time, you must pay us a visit. Ice cream cones on the house.”

“Or we could buy a tub and take it home,” Matt murmured in Frankie’s ear, “and I could lick it off your naked body.”

It made Frankie want to laugh, and in trying not to laugh she forgot to feel tense about the prospect of sitting in the front row at someone’s wedding.

“Are you planning on doing that on Main Street?”

“It’s possible. I’ll try and let you know before it happens.” Matt took her hand and led her to the front. Some faces she knew, and some she didn’t. Some said how pleased they were to see her back on the island, some said how pleased they were she’d found flowers she could use for Emily. All were welcoming and friendly.

Finally, she slid into a spare seat in the front row. “I shouldn’t be sitting here.”

Matt sat down next to her. “Smile. You’re going to have fun.”

She wanted to ask how he thought she’d have fun when Hilda sat down on her other side.

“Remember, once an islander, always an islander.” She patted Frankie on the knee before turning to talk to the woman on the other side of her.

Frankie glanced around, saw soft smiles and misty eyes and wondered what was wrong with her. She felt nothing except faint panic and mild nausea.

To distract herself she focused on the small group of children who were fidgeting and holding recorders ready to play and then on Ryan, who was standing with another tall, dark-haired man who looked familiar.

She was trying to work out where she’d seen him before when Matt leaned toward her.

“He’s the Shipwreck Hunter.”

“Excuse me?”

“That guy you’re staring at, wondering where you’ve seen him before? His name is Alec Hunter. He’s a historian. He presented that series on shipwrecks that kept most of the nation’s women glued to their TV sets.”

“Of course.” She’d loved every moment of that series, and she’d bought his book. She was about to ask Matt another question when the crowd fell silent and the group of children started playing their recorders.

Because she was still looking at Alec, Frankie witnessed the exact moment Ryan turned his head and saw Emily. It was a rare moment of unguarded emotion. Everything he felt showed in his eyes. She wondered how anyone had the courage to give that much of themselves.

Emily finally reached the front and Frankie automatically checked the bouquet. Considering how little time she’d had, and the restricted materials, she was satisfied. The shape ensured that it drew the eye away from Emily’s bump, not that either she or Ryan seemed to be disguising the fact that
she was pregnant. Ignoring protocol, Ryan lowered his head to Emily’s and kissed her until the little girl standing next to them gave his jacket an impatient tug.

Brittany grinned at her in sympathy. “Ryan, you’re supposed to kiss the bride
after
the ceremony,” she said, and the little girl giggled.

She was holding the posy Frankie had made; her blond hair was caught up in a glittery tiara, but what really made Frankie smile was the pair of fairy wings she’d clearly insisted on wearing.

Hadn’t Eva had a pair at that age? Whenever they’d played make-believe games, Eva had been a fairy. Frankie had chosen elf or wizard.

Her mind wandered and she barely heard the words that Emily and Ryan exchanged.

Halfway through Lizzy started fidgeting and Ryan scooped her into his arms, holding her while he and Emily finished exchanging vows.

Frankie watched as the little girl’s hand closed over his shoulder. Something about the way Ryan held the child made her throat thicken. Lizzy was at that age where she believed adults had all the answers, and that daddies were heroes.

Once, she’d thought the same.

Coming to terms with the realities of her father’s human frailties had been part of her transition from child to adult.

She saw the way Ryan was looking at Emily and wondered if her father had looked at her mother the same way on their wedding day.

At what point had it all gone wrong? Had it been good at the beginning and gradually fractured or had there been flaws, weaknesses, from the start?

As she watched, Ryan took Emily’s hand and Frankie
stared, mesmerized by their entwined fingers, slender and delicate threaded through firm and strong.

In the background she heard their voices as they spoke, but all she saw were those clasped hands. They were holding each other as if they had no intention of ever letting go.

And then the ceremony was over and Frankie saw Ryan slide his hand behind Emily’s head and lower his mouth gently to hers.

He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he said something quietly that was for Emily alone.

It was only because Frankie was seated so close that she could read his lips.

I love you. Always.

Always?

Frankie felt an ache in her chest. How could you promise something you couldn’t possibly be sure of? What happened? Did love change or did people change?

She thought of her father, of promises and lies, and wondered when one had turned to the other. Had he meant the vows he’d said on his wedding day? Had he believed them and broken them or had he never really believed them in the first place?

She saw Ryan’s hand slide from Emily’s head to her bump and linger there protectively while they shared a look that excluded everyone else. It was the most intimate, private moment Frankie had ever witnessed, and for that single fleeting second she actually believed that this was real. It surprised her, but what surprised her most was the deep-seated hope that it
was
real. That these two people had something that could last.

She wanted to believe that, she really did.

And then it was over and there was laughter and clapping
and people crowded forward to offer their congratulations in person.

Frankie stayed still, all the words jammed inside her.

Matt’s hand covered hers. “Are you all right?”

Was she? She wasn’t sure. Her head was filled with questions that she couldn’t answer. She wanted to talk to him, because Matt had a wise and measured view of the world whereas she saw everything through a distorted lens. But this wasn’t the place for that conversation. She couldn’t sit in the front row at someone’s wedding and discuss whether love was something that could really last.

Watching Ryan and Emily, she almost believed that it could. It was like glimpsing a patch of blue sky in the middle of a storm. And the blue sky spread, as the wedding turned into a beach party and the guests ate lobster steamed in seaweed and cooked in wash kettles over open fires using water from the ocean.

As darkness fell, Ryan slipped his jacket around Emily’s shoulders and pulled her in for a dance on the sand. And when Lizzy tried to join them he lifted her, too, and they danced in the firelight, the three of them together.

A family.

Frankie felt something she’d never felt before. A yearning, a deep, aching, empty place inside herself she hadn’t realized existed.

Ryan had provided a stack of picnic blankets and Matt grabbed two plates of food and guided Frankie to a patch of sand slightly away from the main celebration.

She curled up on the blanket, listening to the strains of laughter and music. Matt sprawled next to her. “Tell me what you were thinking back there.”

“That this is the nicest wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“That’s it? That’s all you were thinking.”

She sat cross-legged and stared out to sea. “I’ve never really believed the whole happy-ever-after fairy tale, but Ryan and Emily seem so in love with each other.”

“You don’t believe they are?”

“I want to believe it.” She picked at her lobster, wondering how much to say. “When relationships go wrong, do you think it’s because they were always wrong or because the people changed?”

“You’re asking me if people can be in love and then not be in love? Yes, I think that can happen. Life can put pressure on any relationship, but a strong relationship can survive it. My parents were under a lot of pressure when Paige was ill. They had some tough times, but they supported each other. I guess what I learned from watching them is that if you’re honest in a relationship, if you’re not afraid to say how you’re feeling and listen to how the person you love is feeling, then you can work it through. You can find a way.” He paused. “You’re thinking about your parents?”

“I remember picking up their wedding photo once and thinking that they looked happy. I had so many questions about that photo. They were smiling at each other, as people do in wedding photos, and I wanted to know if it was real. Did my dad love her when they got married and then fall out of love? Or did he never love her?”

“Your mom never talked about it?”

Frankie shook her head. “At the beginning she was so upset and angry she couldn’t say a good word about him, and afterward she didn’t want to talk about him at all.”

And Frankie had had questions. So many questions.

“You’re not in touch with him, are you?”

“He sent me a birthday card when I was fifteen and I’ve heard nothing since.”

There was more, of course, so much more, but at that moment Ryan rounded everyone up and the party moved up to the sleek surroundings of the Ocean Club, where cocktails and champagne were served along with delicious seafood.

Frankie noticed Alec Hunter again, but this time he was dancing with a beautiful woman with blond hair that poured over her shoulders like liquid gold. They were laughing together, and Frankie saw the flash of diamond on one of her fingers.

Everyone seemed to be in love, she thought.

People took that risk, time and time again. They jumped, even knowing that they could fall. She felt like a child shivering on the edge of a swimming pool, watching everyone else in the water, afraid to jump in herself in case she drowned.

Everyone was so much braver than she was.

“You’re doing too much thinking and not enough dancing.” Matt pulled her onto the dance floor, ignoring her protests.

“I’m not great at dancing—”

“That’s what you said about sex and look how wrong you were.”

She laughed. “Do you want to say that a bit louder? I’m not sure Hilda heard you.”

“Oh, she heard me, and if she didn’t she’ll hear it from someone else. That’s how things work on Puffin Island.” Grinning, unrepentant, he twirled her skillfully and she landed breathless against his chest.

“I suppose you think that was smooth.” She gasped as
he dipped her and then pulled her close. “Okay, that
was
smooth. Show-off.”

“There are other things I could show you. Bigger things.”

“That really would shock Hilda. You’re a good dancer.”

“So are you.” He buried his face in her neck and she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin and closed her eyes. She’d never felt this way before, ever.

“I didn’t think I could dance.”

“I’m making it my mission in life to show you all the things you have wrong about yourself.” His mouth moved to her ear. “Shall we get out of here?”

“I don’t want to offend the bride and groom.”

“The bride and groom left half an hour ago but no one noticed. The secret is to leave without a fuss.” He took her hand and they weaved their way through the high-spirited crowd, through the door of the Ocean Club, but this time instead of taking the path to the beach as they’d done the night before, he headed back to the car.

He drove back to Seagull’s Nest and opened the door to the cabin. “It’s still warm out. Do you want to sit on the deck for a while?”

The deck was bathed by moonlight and the only sound was the soft crash of the sea hitting the rocks beneath them.

“I’d like that.”

Despite the fact that she was tired, Frankie was in no hurry to go to sleep.

She’d been dreading this weekend, but now she wished it could last forever.

She settled herself into the nearest chair and moments later Matt joined her. He had a bottle of champagne and two glasses in one hand and a sweater in the other.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She took the sweater gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders, watching while he poured champagne.

“To you.”

“Why are we drinking to me?”

“Because you saved the day and you survived sitting in the front row of a wedding. That deserves a toast.”

She took a sip of champagne. “I never thought I’d say this but it was a nice wedding.”

“But …?”

“No.” She shook her head. “There are no buts. Not this time.”

“You’re saying you believe they might be happy?”