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The Reunion(135)

Author:Meghan Quinn

I tilt my head to the side, giving his response some serious thought. After being privy to the Chance siblings’ bantering emails, I know their baseline of cooperation. Joining forces like this is leaps and bounds from what I’ve seen. Maybe Beau is right. Guess there’s only one way to find out. “When did you become so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise—you’ve just been too stubborn to acknowledge it.”

“So, you’re going to jump right back into things with Palmer, then?”

“I mean . . .” He smooths his hand over his cheek. “I’m going to see what she has to say first. I want to see growth. But if she wants something with me, hell yeah. I fucking love her spirit. It’s thrilling. I like her sass and her passion for all things. She excites me, but she also has a gentle, shy soul that is a huge turn-on.”

“Ew, don’t say ‘turn-on’ to me.”

Beau laughs. “Either way. Yes, I want to date her, see where things take us.”

“What if she’s not staying on Marina Island?”

He shrugs. “That’s something I’ll have to accept, but I won’t know until I hear her out.” He nods toward the house. “Come on, let’s see what the Chance siblings have to say for themselves.”

We get out of the car and follow behind a small group of people. The door to the house is open, and soft music plays in the background as we approach. When we reach the front door, a sign points us through the house to the back door. We head out onto the deck, where the backyard has been transformed entirely.

Holy shit, how did they do this?

A white tent spans the length of the yard, with the lake beyond as a beautiful backdrop. Bulb lights are strung along the ceiling of the tent, softly illuminating the high tops and tables scattered around the open space. A food table sits off to the right, decorated with light-green linens and daisies. A DJ is in the far corner next to a dance floor, and to the left is a beautiful two-tiered wedding cake surrounded by daisies. Throughout the tent are scrapbook cutouts and triangular garlands strewn in yellows and greens, adding to the whimsical feel of the space.

It’s positively breathtaking.

“Wow,” I say as Beau gapes at everything as well.

“Wow is right. And it smells like heaven in here.”

“I can’t imagine how all this was done,” I say, thinking about what it must have taken to pull this off.

“Hey.” We turn to the side, where Nora is standing in a pretty pink sundress. Her hair is curled in soft waves and pinned behind her ear. She looks beautiful. “I’m assuming you two got a personal invite as well?”

I nod. “We did. Yours have a note on the back?”

“Oh yeah. It was a doozy too. That middle Chance child sure has a way with words.”

“Looks like we’re all suckers where they’re concerned.” I point to the cake. “Did you make that?”

“Yup. Got a beautiful wake-up call from Palmer this morning. Apparently, she rode a bike to the ferry and then struggled through public transportation to find me and ask for help.”

“Really?” Beau asks, sounding surprised and proud at the same time.

“Yup. It was hard to say no, especially for Peggy and Martin. She gave me a picture of their parents’ original wedding cake and asked to replicate it. I didn’t have enough time for three tiers, so two had to do.”

“Well, it’s beautiful,” I say as we all move farther into the tent.

“They’re here!” Palmer says, appearing out of nowhere, addressing the crowd, which quiets along with the music. She’s wearing a teal dress that matches her cast, and her hair is pinned up with daisies in the back. “When they come out here, yell ‘Happy anniversary!’”

I glance at Beau, whose eyes are glued to her. He shifts in place, and I know just from that little moment that he’s going to work out whatever he can to be with Palmer.

The tent quiets down, and we wait only a few seconds before Peggy and Martin step through the back. Both of them gasp as we all cry, “Happy anniversary!” They clutch each other’s hands and take in their backyard—and within the span of one breath, they’re both crying. Cooper follows behind them and then Ford. My pulse immediately quickens. He’s wearing a simple pair of gray pants and a white polo. His hair is a little messier than usual, and even though he has a smile on his face, his eyes are tired.

Peggy and Martin turn toward their kids and give them loving hugs. After their embrace, the kids walk their parents down to the tent, where they hand them each a glass of champagne. Champagne is handed out to everyone by the waitstaff, and the DJ passes Ford a microphone.