“You kidding?” He handed her a glass. “I live for days like this. I just gained some great new neighbors!”
Dora stepped forward to pass the tray of champagne glasses. Taylor grabbed two and handed Harper a glass. They raised their glasses and shared a look of promise. Before she sipped, Harper caught a glimpse of Mamaw and Granny James, standing together by the silk-lined window. Mamaw was in a brilliant blue dress that matched the unmistakable blue color of her eyes. Granny James was wearing her navy suit with the crisp piping. They looked quite smart together. Quite conspiratorial, Harper thought happily as she watched them raise their glasses to each other in a silent toast, clink glasses, and, smiling, sip the champagne.
She brought her champagne flute to her lips, felt the bubbles tickle her nose, smelled the sweet, yeasty scent of it. The scent of joy and grace and celebration.
She looked at the man standing beside her, broad shouldered and as solid as the granite of his features. Her future husband. Taylor would, she knew, always stand at her side, fixed and unyielding in his love for her, in his protection of her and the children that she hoped would come. She smiled, observing his tanned skin, his pelt of brown hair, longer now and streaked by the sun. He was her lowcountry man, as much a part of this place she now called home as the salt of the air, the pungent scent of the pluff mud, the shrimp that he fished, the traditions, the values. He was her home.
As were her sisters, she thought, looking at the smiling faces of Carson and Dora.
Harper took a deep breath. She was the mistress of Sea Breeze now. She would tend the house with a loving hand, protect it from the storms that would come, plant seeds there, and watch them grow. Sea Breeze would always be a haven for her family. She would keep the light burning, as Mamaw had before her.
As she raised her glass, the room silenced. All eyes fell on her. This was her moment. “To family.” Harper’s voice rang clear. “To Sea Breeze.”
After everyone drank the wine, Harper looked at her watch. “We need to hurry, Granny James, or you’ll miss your plane!”
With the usual commotion of hugs and farewells, Granny James, Mamaw, and Harper hurried out to the front of the house, where a hired car was waiting with the engine running.
Granny James clasped her hands and blinked rapidly, seemingly reluctant to go. She looked at the cottage with yearning. “I should make a final walk through the cottage to make sure I have everything.”
“You’ve already checked it twice.” Mamaw linked arms with her. “If you’ve forgotten anything, I’ll mail it to you.”
“No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll come back for it.” Granny James gave a quick smile.
“Please do.” Mamaw gave her a kiss on the cheek, then released her arm and turned back to the house, giving Granny James and Harper a moment of privacy.
“I can never thank you enough,” Harper told her, “for all you did.”
“No thanks necessary. I did it simply because I love you.”
“I wish my mother felt the same way.”
Granny James looked into Harper’s eyes with sincerity. “Georgiana does love you, as difficult as it might be to believe sometimes.”
“I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for buying Sea Breeze. Or you, for that matter.”
Granny James released a short laugh. “Of course she will. Who else does she have to call and natter?”
“Or that I’ve written a novel. Do you think I should send it to her? Along with my wedding invitation?”
Granny James feigned a scolding glance. “One at a time, darling. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” She leaned forward to place a kiss on Harper’s cheek. “I’ll call her. Explain how things are. I’m her mother. I still hold some sway. Even over Georgiana.”
“I’ll miss you, Granny James.”
“And I you.” She cast a final sweeping gaze around the property. “And I shall miss Sea Breeze.”
“Come back soon.”
“I intend to!” Granny James said with her usual spirit. “With that strapping young man you’re going to marry, I expect there will be great-grandbabies coming.”
“Granny . . .” Harper laughed.
“I’m serious! I’m not getting any younger.” She clapped her hands. “Chop chop!”
The following morning Harper rose from her bed and tiptoed to the sliding door that divided her room from Mamaw’s. The door rattled along the frame as she pushed it open.
Mamaw was wide-awake, propped up against pillows in her enormous four-poster bed. “There you are! I was just thinking of you.”
Harper felt a flutter of happiness as she scurried across the room to join her grandmother in the four-poster. Soon she was leaning against the pillows beside Mamaw. She kicked her legs under the blanket, stretching them out. This was the second time in as many weeks they’d had a private tête-à-tête. She hoped there would be many more.
Harper closed her eyes and was enveloped in a scent of exotic woods and spices, slightly oriental. “Mmm,” she sighed. “I love your perfume. I always think of this as your scent. I tried it on me.” She scrunched her nose. “It didn’t smell at all good. It smells yummy on Carson.” She sighed. “Of course.”
Mamaw laughed. “Why of course?”
“Because she’s so much like you. She’s tall, beautiful . . .”
“You’re every bit as beautiful. You have your own unique beauty. As does Dora. It’s rather like perfume, you see. Each of you has your own distinct scent. Quality perfumes never compete.”
“I don’t have my own scent.”
“Then let’s find you one. I should think”—Mamaw tapped her cheek—“you would do well with Joy. Another French perfume, very good. It’s sweeter, more floral, but with very deep base notes. And very fussy about who can wear it.”
Harper’s thoughts moved back to Carson. “She’s really going to Los Angeles?”
“Yes,” Mamaw said brightly without a hint of worry. “She’s moving forward. This is a good thing, Harper. She has to see this cycle through. To come full circle. As you did.”
“Me?” Harper asked, surprised by the comment.
“Yes. You found yourself this summer. You’ve written a book!”