Page 1 of The Magic of Sea Glass
PROLOGUE
As the afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass windows of the chapel full of wedding guests, all outfitted in their pastel suits and bright floral dresses, Lauren Sutton stood at the back and swallowed the lump of sorrow in her throat. She coughed into her fist to stifle her emotions, the sound echoing in the airy sanctuary. A couple in the last pew turned their heads in her direction, clearly recognizing her, something she still hadn’t gotten used to.
Lauren nodded her apologies to them, smoothing her navy satin A-line dress that complemented her chestnut hair and green eyes, the swell of sadness returning with a vengeance. This was not the time for Mason to float into her mind. She had work to do.
The preacher’s voice boomed throughout the room, “Should anyone here know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Blinking away tears, Lauren checked the time on her watch in an attempt to focus on the task at hand, but the numbers didn’t register.
Inevitably, it was at weddings when Mason’s memory came through the strongest. A flutter of nostalgia would distract her from her duties—usually something completely regular like the sound of him brushing his teeth in the bathroom that they’d shared in their one-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side. Before she knew it, she’d find herself completely immersed in those everyday moments that had become little treasures.
Today, she had indulged in recalling the adoring and hopeful look in his eyes when he’d kneeled in front of her in Central Park, where they first met, an emerald-cut diamond ring glimmering between them. And now she was paying the price for allowing that memory to resurface.
The happy couple turned toward the sea of family and friends, the groom excitedly lifting the bride’s hand in celebration as she gripped the custom-made bouquet of white morning frost and stone-blue dyed roses with pearl beading that Lauren had ordered for her five months prior. The crowd cheered.Husband and wife.
As the lovebirds took their first steps to walk back down the aisle, headed for the reception that featured Lauren’s signature champagne fountains and table place cards made of edible fondant scrolls with gold lettering, the group of musicians in the balcony began a jazzy rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” to the roar of the crowd. The groom gave the bride a twirl, her Ines Di Santo gown flowing out around her flawlessly, the dress as beautiful as the glowing bride herself.
The processional continued along the pearl white runner of the church. Lauren wiped a runaway tear, put on a smile, and waved at them as they departed, her iPad with the checklist for the rest of the evening gripped tightly in her other hand—as if holding on to it could keep her from collapsing.
“I can take over from here,” Lauren’s best friend and business partner, Andy Jacobs, whispered from beside her, that all-too-familiar empathy in her eyes.
“I’m fine,” Lauren lied.
The concluding members of the wedding party exited through the arched doors, which led to the lush green church gardens and stone path lined with topiaries—also Lauren’s idea. Then the crowd began to file out, the summer sunshine warming the area where she and Andy stood.
“You’re not fine.” Their earlier discussions about Lauren selling her half of the business were evident in Andy’s stare. She patted Lauren’s shoulder, rubbing back and forth affectionately, the gesture slowing Lauren’s pounding heart in the way only a best friend’s touch could. Andy had always been there for her.
A year ago, when Lauren’s fiancé, Mason Bridges, had died suddenly in a head-on collision on his way to a weekend fishing trip, Andy had immediately stepped in to run Sugar and Lace Event Planning, the wildly successful business that Lauren and Andy co-owned. But in a matter of weeks, Lauren had gone back to work, pushing herself through the pain, filling her days with tasks like organizing caterers, floral design, and booking event spaces, because if she didn’t, she feared she might crumble. The nights she slept without Mason, alone in their bed, were enough to torture her to the point of near insanity, and she’d needed the distraction.
One morning, after a particularly difficult night, she’d called her best friend and confided in her that she wasn’t sure she could go on like she had been. She got into the wedding business because she felt there was nothing better in life than celebrating love, but after losing Mason, she didn’t feel like she could be celebratory anymore. Andy had offered to buy her out, but Lauren still needed the emotional break that work provided and the promise that the world did go on, even if she didn’t feel like it could.
“I’ll tell the bride that we’ll split the duties: you work the ceremony and I’ll handle the reception,” Andy said.
“I’mfine,” Lauren repeated, her voice breaking. If she said anything more she might fall apart right there in the church. She reminded herself that she could do this. It wasn’t the first time her memories of Mason had caught her off guard—she’d handled it before; she could do it again.
“Going home in the middle of one event doesn’t mean you’re quitting,” Andy said. “I already know your position on that.”
She took in a steadying breath and squared her shoulders. “I can’t leave you to do the entire wedding by yourself. As your partner, I need to be here to help carry the load.” But even though the words were coming out of her mouth, she knew she’d never make it through the entire event.
“Everything is finished. All I have to do is make sure each item on the list happens at the right time. Cocktail hour, cake-cutting, speeches, first dance… You know I can do it in my sleep; it’s party time.”
Andy was right. The actual day of the event used to always be a triumphant culmination of all their hard work—where Andy and Lauren shined. Putting out the little fires of the day and keeping to the schedule was easy, given the incredible planning that had happened in the months before. They used to toast champagne and mingle with the guests, hugging the appreciative brides, who shook their heads, baffled as to how they made it look so effortless.
But in the year after losing Mason, Lauren had found herself at these times overly fixated on whether she’d gotten all the details of the day right, or her heart would suddenly pound while she double-checked her to-do lists to be sure she hadn’t forgotten something. Her mind couldn’t always focus on work, so instead it became a battleground of thoughts about the things she and Mason could’ve done differently. And then there was the flood of memories…
For whatever reason, today was a tough one; she needed to cut her losses and admit to herself that tomorrow would be a better day. She finally surrendered, her chest aching for her life before the tragic accident. “If I go home, I won’t be any better,” she said, already fretting about having to navigate the silence in the apartment she’d shared with Mason. “I need something to think about, something to get my mind off… it.”
Andy offered a loving pout. “Why don’t you take some time today to think about what you want to do,” her friend suggested kindly. “What youreallywant to do. What will make you happy, Lauren? Because I’m not sure it’s this anymore.”
Lauren looked around at the near-empty church, the satin bows looped along the sides of the pews, the white runner with beaded trimming leading to the altar, and none of it lifted her spirits. For the first time, she knew what Andy meant.
“You mentioned the other day about going to the Outer Banks like you and Mason had planned to do before the accident. Why don’t you go before the summer ends? Maybe it could get you out of this headspace, make you feel a little lighter?”
She had considered it, wondering all summer if moving forward with their plans to visit the coast would help her to feel less like her life was just sitting stagnant in the empty space after Mason’s death.
She allowed herself to recall the memory of him in the kitchen, wearing his boxer shorts with his back to her, flipping her omelet and talking, for the millionth time, about how they should move to the coast and get a dog. He always tried to convince her that they belonged in a location with a slower pace and that she’d love living by the ocean. One time, she playfully pushed him away when he ran over to her from the stove to try to convince her with kisses.
“You know I can’t work from somewhere like that,” she said, squealing and throwing sofa pillows at him.
