Chapters (33)
- Cover
- Acclaim for Melissa Tagg
- Books by Melissa Tagg
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Epilogue
- Author Note
- A Seaside Wonder
- Author Note & Acknowledgements
- About the Author
Ha! I didn’t realize until after writing that sentence how morbid it sounds. Especially considering recent events. No, I’m not dying. Though there was a moment on a cold Friday night a few weeks back . . .
As I said, I’m short on time today. (There, a much better way to phrase things.) It’s Thanksgiving and already the lawn is beginning to fill. Patti Brighton-Smythe was the first to arrive. OF COURSE. I think she might still be in shock over my decision to host the community dinner.
Truthfully, I think the girls are, too. Not Neil, though. Oh no, he exists in a cloud of pure contentment these days. Sydney’s back, you see. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Are you wondering why I decided to revive the Muir Farm Thanksgiving Dinner? I’ve wondered myself plenty often in the past few days. After all, I am still recovering from a major health event. That’s how Lil keeps phrasing it—a major health event. Is it just me or is that hilarious wording? I think the dear girl simply can’t handle saying the reality of it out loud. I almost died. That’s the reality of it.
And that’s the why of it, too. I almost died, and somehow when I didn’t, I knew it was time . . . time to stop hiding from the world. I went to church on Sunday. I’ve gone to the grocery store, made Trinna smile by stopping at the teashop and buying a bundle of some herbal thing I’ll never drink, and I had supper at the Brunch Barn two nights ago.
And today, I’ll host half of Muir Harbor on a gorgeous autumn day. Indi has decorated the yard to the point that it looks like a fall-ish fairyland—so many lights, so many pumpkins, so many strings of fake leaves hanging all over the place. Lilian has taken charge of the organizing committee. All I had to do was bake pies—although the girls hovered the whole time, worried I’d strain myself, I’m sure.
And Neil . . . well, as I said, he walks around in a daze of happiness. I’m certain he’s contributed something to this day, but mostly he has eyes only for Sydney. She was gone all of two weeks and two days, and if she’d waited one more day to return to us, I do think he might’ve keeled over out of sheer lovesick impatience.
She’s currently staying at the Carters’ place. Though, if you ask me, it won’t be for long. Neil came to my room last night and asked for the ring. And, of course, I in turn asked him what’d taken him so long.