Page 119 of Windlass

She’d thought relationships were different, that she would need to be whole and perfect before she could trust herself with another person’s heart. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe the mistakes could lie beside her, indelible but also proof of striving toward something greater.

Or maybe she was being sentimental in the face of too much raw emotion. She hooked her foot around Stevie’s beneath the table and reached for the basket of bread.

Halfway through dinner, following a rousing debate over the merits of mashed versus pureed potatoes, Ivy cleared her throat. Stevie stilled, and Angie saw Morgan clock Stevie’s suddenly erect posture with curiosity, then suspicion. When Morgan’s gaze drifted to Angie, Angie smiled sweetly, which further narrowed Morgan’s eyes.

“I wanted to thank you all again for coming out to the island with us.” Ivy raised her wine glass.

“It’s been a real trial,” said Stormy.

“Absolute struggle,” Emilia agreed. “The views are terrible.”

“I’m sensing some sarcasm.” Ivy raised her eyebrows, then continued, her tone sobering. “If you can manage to tough it out, there’s something I’d like to say.”

They assured her that they could tough it out.

“When I first moved here, I thought I was running away from my life. Instead, I found all of you, and you welcomed me far beyond what I deserved. I now know that I wasn’t running away. I was runningtothe only person who’s ever really felt like home to me, which scared me so much the first time I realized it that I broke both our hearts.”

Lilian flushed, but didn’t look away from Ivy’s face. The candlelight painted both of them in warm, flickering hues.

“Okay, this is too much. No one told me I needed to bring tissues to the table,” said Stormy. Emilia passed her a napkin.

“Which is why, when I asked Lilian to spend the rest of her life with me, I wanted to do it in a place that mattered to both of us and with the people who cared about us most.”

Morgan’s expression shifted from suspicion to shock to pure delight as her eyes flicked to Lilian. Stormy and Emilia both clapped hands to their mouths. Angie saw this out of her peripheral vision, however, for her eyes were glued to Lilian. The emotions shining from Lilian’s face were almost violent in their intensity. The reflection of her own feelings shook her. Did she look like that when she looked at Stevie?

“Lil?” Ivy held her hand out to Lilian, who took it, the ring on her finger unmistakable. “We wanted you to be the first to know that we’re engaged.”

The exclamations of joy were deafening even when she’d expected them. Stevie stood and darted into the kitchen, returning with a large bottle of champagne and a precarious handful of flutes. Angie held them for Stevie to fill, passing them around to their friends for the toast.

“I said yes,” Lilian added, earning a few laughs. “In case that needed to be stated.”

“Of course, you did.” Angie took her turn hugging her friend. “Of course, you did.”

Stevie hefted the “microphone” in her hand and gave Morgan her best look of horror. Rather than rent a karaoke set, Ivy had opted for YouTube, which was more than happy to oblige with almost any song Stevie’s diabolical friends could think of. They’d solved the microphone problem with heavy brass candlesticks, which at least ridiculed the whole thing, not just Stevie.

“Can you choose something that has achanceof being in our vocal range?”

“You two have the vocal range of—and I say this with love—a pair of bullfrogs.” Stormy patted Stevie on the shoulder as she spoke, which did not make it better.

“I resent that remark,” said Stevie.

“Or do you resemble it?” said Angie.

At least Angie had the sleek, contented look of a cat full of the knowledge he’d left a hairball outside your bedroom door and a dead mouse head on the doorstep, and he wasstillgoing to get wet food for dinner and a chin scratch.

“Remember who you’d call if your car broke down or you needed a tire change,” said Morgan.

“I can change my own tire, thank you very much,” said Stormy.

“Way to pull the butch card,” said Stevie. “Is that really all you think you’re good for? Tire changing? You’re adoctor.”

“Not a physicist,” Angie said under her breath because she was a nerd.

“In her defense—” Lilian began, but Emilia cut her off.

“There is no defense. Morgan, baby. Stand up straight and sing for me?”

Stevie hadn’t realized Emilia could be so devious. Morgan, who had been slouching in front of the fireplace as if wishing the bricks might swallow her, grudgingly straightened and pulled at the collar of her blue button-down. Emilia stood and walked over with a slow saunter that Stevie had to admit did make her look like an absolute snack; she unbuttoned the top two buttons of Morgan’s shirt. Morgan might have breathed easier if Emilia hadn’t whispered something in her ear that blew Morgan’s pupils and whipped energy into the lean lines of her body.

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