“Determined to make it perfect?” Vivien asked.
Tessa shrugged. “Just that it is a functioning, safe, clean family home when the adoption agency inspects and interviews.”
Watching and listening, Kate felt something expand in her chest.
This wasTessa. This was a woman who’d spent twenty-five years running from the grief of giving up a baby that no one but their father knew she’d had. Who’d lived in Ritz-Carltons across the country, planned spectacular events for other people’s milestones, and never planted roots anywhere long enough to need a mailbox.
Now she had that child back in her life—although Roman was certainly no child. She had Dusty, a former troublemaker from their teenage beach days who now helped people endure grief and grow. And she had this curly-topped angel who called her Tess-Tess and reached for her like she was the center of the universe.
Tessa Wylie Mathers had finally landed. And she made it look effortless, which was the most Tessa thing of all.
“Why are you smiling like a loon, sweet sister of mine?”
Kate didn’t need to say all that out loud. It would come out like a speech and make them all teary. “I’m just happy,” she said instead. “For you.”
“And speaking of you…” Vivien leaned in, pointed at Tessa, and dragged out the word.
“Yes?” she asked, watching the other two women share looks that said…something. Then, Vivien gave Kate the floor with a subtle nod.
“We want to throw you a wedding,” Kate said.
Tessa blinked. “I had a wedding. Judge Clement. Bad lighting. Stuffed manatee. You were there.”
“A real wedding,” Vivien said. “On the beach. With sunset lighting, lace and lanterns, and a small crowd of family and friends at the Summer House.”
Tessa set her glass down. “Girls. No. That’s sweet, but we did it. We’re married. It’s done. I don’t need?—”
“We think you do,” Vivien said.
“Well, I?—”
“Always wanted one,” Kate finished.
“Every girl wants a wedding,” Tessa replied. “And if you’re referring to what we used to play as children when Mom let us use an entire roll of paper towels for my veil, that was about forty-five years ago, Kate. I never dreamed of a big wedding.”
“I have the proof that says differently,” Vivien murmured.
“She does,” Kate countered. “She has the Destin Diaries, and you might not remember a certain entry from 1994, but we read it the morning of your civil ceremony.”
Tessa looked from one to the other, her topaz eyes narrowing.
“You were seventeen,” Vivien continued, “and you described your dream wedding in such detail that Kate and I just sat there with our mouths open.”
“Lanterns on the beach,” Kate reminded her. “A long wooden aisle over the sand. White roses. A dress with lace sleeves?—”
“I was seventeen!” Tessa laughed, but her eyes were bright. “I also thought I wanted to marry Luke Perry—God rest his pretty boy soul.”
“The point is,” Kate pressed gently, “you dreamed about that wedding. You talked about it like you could see it. And you deserve to have it.”
During the silence that rested over them for a beat, Olive dropped a piece of bread on the floor and picked up her starfish, which apparently tasted better, her big blue eyes moving over their faces with silent interest.
“It doesn’t have to be extravagant,” Vivien said softly. “A ceremony on the beach at sunset. The family. Dusty’s friends. Music, flowers, food—Jonah could cook. The boardwalk at the Summer House is the aisle. You come down it in whatever you want to wear, and we handle everything else.”
Tessa was quiet, which was rare enough that Kate knew she was giving real thought to the idea.
“We’ve been talking about it since the courthouse,” Kate said. “We actually considered a surprise, but nobody should have their own surprise wedding. Even you.”
“To be honest, with Lacey gone, I’m juggling real, paying clients and…Olive Oyl.” She leaned over and kissed the little girl’s curls. “I don’t have time to plan a wedding. I’ve got this little one and the adoption process, which requires some time, paperwork, and interviews, and now my house is a warzone.”
