Sylvie’s red lip curled in disgust. “To make things worse, the guy impersonatesoldElvis, Hattie. She left poor Delmer for a man who dresses up in a bedazzled leisure suit and has a potbelly, lamb chop sideburns, and a shiny sheen of flop-sweat.”
A headache inched a little closer to my temple, and I forked a piece of ham onto my paper plate. “Any other culinary warnings?”
She took a brief survey of the table’s offerings. “Maybe steer clear of Marvin Michlin’s pea salad there at the end.”
“What’s Marvin’s great sin?”
“Marvin’s an absolute dear. I just find a salad of peas to be quite revolting.”
When my plate was filled, I searched for Ned. He’d darted off to take a call when the service had dismissed, and I hadn’t seen him since. Well, I’d chase him down later. I was here to be with family, and I wanted to spend as much time as possible with them before we headed back to Nashville on Monday.
I found my two sisters outside beneath an oak tree, sitting at a picnic table with my parents.
The vision caught me up short, and I paused at the picture before me.
My mom, dad, Rosie, and Olivia. The only one missing was my brother, who lived abroad.
How I loved these people.
My eyes misted once again as I approached and sat down beside Rosie. “Have you all seen Ned?” I asked.
“Went that way.” My dad’s gray head indicated the parking lot. “On the phone.”
“Seemed intense.” Olivia secured the top button of her tailored jacket, bracing against the crisp March wind.
“How are you holding up?” I wrapped my arm around Rosie and hugged her to me.
My youngest sister’s eyes were swollen, and her waterproof mascara was no match for her grief. “I’ve had better days.” She swiped a napkin across her red nose. “But it helps that you’re here.”
“I’m so sorry, Rosie. It’s just not fair.” I’d carried a piercing ache for my sister since getting the call last week. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Move back to Arkansas? Keep Olivia and me company, just like the old days?”
“I wish I could.” I kissed the top of her head and sniffed my leaky nose. “But you can come to Nashville and visit us anytime.”
“That might be a good idea,” Olivia said. “Take some time off for yourself, Rosie.”
Rosie shook her curly head. “What I need is to stay busy.” She sat up and took a deep breath, waiting until she had everyone’s attention. “I’ve bought a bookshop.”
Spoons paused.
Forks dropped.
Mom was the first to speak. “What?”
“Well, it’s more of a ratty old building.” Rosie brushed the remnants of tears from her cheeks. “But, by the end of the year, I think it can be a bookshop.”
“When did this happen?” Dad’s question rolled out slowly, as if he was afraid of the answer.
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday,” Dad repeated. “Honey, you’ve just suffered an immense loss. Is now really the time to start a business? I’m sure the sellers would understand if you needed to back out.”
“I’m not changing my mind. It was an impulse offer, but this dream goes way back. And what else am I supposed to do with all that life insurance money?” Her eyes glistened anew, and I wondered how long the sadness would linger there. Months? Years? A lifetime? “Chase was fully on board with my plan to open a bookshop one day.”
“But…now?” I prompted. And yet, I could almost see it: Our entire literature-loving family gathered in a cozy store surrounded by books with Rosie behind the sales counter offering tea and literary recommendations.
“Life is short.” Rosie’s focus drifted back to the chapel where we’d said goodbye to her sweet fiancé. “Whynotnow?”
