Page 111 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
“Hey!” both Lo and I say at the same time. Then we share a smile.
It’s not all bliss and rainbows with my sisters. But things between us are markedly better. Before Gran died, we were almost strangers. Or maybe more like work friends, where you share some things in common that stop short of reaching your personal life.
I can’t help but wonder if this was part of Gran’s grand plan. (And Idobelieve she had a grand plan.) Eloise confessed she thinks Gran wanted to set her up with Jake—and thankfully, things with the two of them are very much back on. Add in the way she gave my paintings to Hunter mere months after his divorce? She had to have an ulterior motive. But more than matchmaking, the stipulations in her will brought my sisters and me back to Oakley, back to each other.
Mom appears from around the corner of the porch, Vroom following behind.Hedoesn’t seem to mind wearing a bow tie at all.
“I know I said it earlier, but you’re beautiful,” Mom says.
“Thank you,” Sadie says. “I wasn’t sure you’d like my hair.”
Since the last time I saw her, Sadie chopped off her long, dark hair in favor of a platinum pixie cut. On me or Lo, this style would make us look ridiculous. Somehow on Sadie, the extreme cut makes her look like a forest elf or sprite—adorable but also maybe deadly.
“I do like it,” Mom says, smiling, “but I meant Merritt is beautiful, sinceshe’sthe one getting married today.”
“The dress is okay?” I smooth my hand down the front.
My choice is an unlikely wedding dress. I pulled it off a rack when Naomi was dress shopping with me. The simple ivory satin looked like a nightgown next to the beaded and lace dresses Naomi and the sales associate picked. I’m honestly not sure this is even a wedding dress. Maybe a bridesmaid dress? Mother of the bride? Decidedlynota wedding gown.
But once I slipped the fabric over my head, I couldfeelthe rightness of it. Naomi blinked rapidly when I walked out, her mouth falling open in surprise, and the sales associate sighed, knowing her commission would be much smaller.
“It’s perfect,” Naomi said. “It’s too simple—it shouldn’t work on you, but it does. Absolutely. This is the one.”
Naomi also requested to try it on in case it was aSisterhood of the Traveling Pantssituation where the dress magically looked good on everyone. Instead, it made her look like an apparition—all ghostly pale and lost in the loose white fabric.
“The dress is subtle and classic.” Mom cups my cheek. “But it’s your happiness shining through that makes it.”
I manage a smile that feels like the precursor to a sob. “Thanks.”
“No crying!” Sadie warns, shoving a ball of tissues at me.
“It’s a wedding day,” Lo says. “We’re all supposed to cry. That’s why we bought waterproof mascara.”
In a sudden move, Mom grabs all three of our hands and pulls them together in both of hers. “Just let me say one more thing.”
She draws in a breath, and I realize that this is one of those Important Moments. The ones thatmatter. A few months ago, before coming to Oakley, I might have rolled my eyes or snatched back my hand. I would have thought that Mom gave up the right to be all sentimental like this.
But now—I appreciate it. I’m grateful and only a little sad about the years when it wasn’t like this.
“I owe the three of you an apology,” Mom says. “I should never have stopped you from visiting here, from seeing your grandmother. Being here now—I realize how wrong I was.”
I suck in a breath, briefly meeting Eloise’s and Sadie’s eyes. Lo’s expression I think mirrors mine—soft and sad. Sadie’s eyes—more gray-blue than either of ours—look hard and unyielding.
“Whatever happened between your father and me shouldn’t have ended with you losing your connection to your grandmother. To this island. Seeing all the love people have for the three of you, watching you blossom…”
I don't miss Sadie’s eye roll. Neither does Lo, who kicks her.
“I’m just sorry I took this away from you,” Mom finishes, sniffling. “I’m sorry, and I’m so grateful you’ve come back here to connect however you can.”
Sadie wrestles her hand away, supplying us all with tissues as she mutters something about not needing to test the limits of waterproof mascara. “I’m going to track down Banjo and make sure he’s not eating the cake,” she says, and then she disappears around the corner of the house.
Clearly,someonehasn’t caught the sentimental moment bug.
Mom dabs her eyes. “Are you sure you want a raccoon as your ring bearer? Jake’s nephew, Liam, looks much more responsible than that … rodent.”
“Liam would be a fine choice,” I tell her. “But Banjo isourchoice. Also? He’s not a rodent, and he looks adorable in a bow tie.”
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