Alone with Liam, Lily leaned her head on his shoulder. If he minded her wet hair, he didn't complain. She felt his lips on her head, heard him chuckle.

“Salty,” he said.

“I couldn't help myself,” she said. “Swimming with the girls is a summer party tradition.”

“All parties?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Even weddings?”

“Especially!” she said, and they laughed. He embraced her, pulling her close, and in the shadow of the cedars, they kissed. Lily melted into Liam, feeling liquid from her swim, and from the heady perfume of the rose garden. She was with him now, and she knew she'd be with him forever. Tonight was just one moment in their own private eternity. Their kiss was long and salty, and she tasted the sea on his lips.

Then Rose came walking back to them, holding a basket over one arm, filled with rose petals that she had gathered earlier—from pink, red, yellow, and white roses blooming all through the garden.

“Guess who that was?” Marisa asked, joining them.

“Who?” Lily asked.

“Anne! And guess who's back in Cape Hawk?”

“Not Lafarge,” Lily said.

“Definitely not. Nanny's there!”

The news was so happy and welcome, Lily's eyes filled with tears. Nanny had been their family angel this summer, guiding them from one place to the next. From Cape Hawk, to Boston for Rose's surgery, down here to Hubbard's Point to see about Maeve, and now back to the northern waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and Nova Scotia.

“Back in her home waters,” Liam said. “And guiding us back to ours.”

“Our home waters,” Rose said, jumping up and down. “Cape Hawk!” In her exuberance, she jostled a few rose petals out of her basket. She started to pick them up, but instead looked up at Lily and Liam. “Is it time?” she asked.

“To surprise the party?” Lily asked, smiling. “I think so.”

Lily's eyes met her grandmother's. Alone of everyone else there, Maeve knew what was about to happen. She smiled her radiant grandmotherly smile, and gave a nod to let Lily know she was ready and waiting.

Then Liam bent down, reached under the four-seasons bench. He pulled out a basket a little bigger than Rose's. It was covered with a needlepoint canvas made by Lily many years ago—when she was a young girl, not much older than Rose was now. It depicted Sea Garden, with all its magical, mysterious roses, shades of pink, peach, scarlet, crimson, and white. The white roses were the most beautiful, and showed the most detail. Lily had made this canvas with a dream of her wedding day.

She had always wanted to be married right here in this yard. She had envisioned all the roses being in bloom, especially the white ones, just right for a bride. When she was a young teenager, dreaming of her future, she had stitched this canvas. And she had vowed to celebrate a summer wedding, amid her grandmother's roses.