Chapter 14 - THE QUESTION BESIDE THE HARBOR
Wesley proposed beside Boston Harbor.
Public walkway.
Cold.
Wind terrible.
Cora’s hair everywhere.
Perfect.
No restaurant.
No Cain property.
No Donnelly property.
Just city.
He stopped near railing.
Cora saw him reach into pocket.
“No speech longer than sixty seconds.”
“I timed it.”
“Of course you did.”
He smiled.
Then:
“Cora Donnelly, the first night I stood up for you, I thought protection meant putting enough power between you and danger.”
She listened.
“I was wrong.”
Good start.
“You needed witnesses.”
“Information.”
“Lawyers.”
“Your own money.”
“Your own choices.”
“And sometimes for me to get out of the way.”
She smiled.
“Frequently.”
“Frequently.”
Then:
“You taught me that helping someone is not the same as directing the outcome.”
Her eyes filled.
“I don’t want to rescue you.”
“Good.”
“I don’t want you to need me.”
“Good.”
“I want you to choose me when you don’t.”
That was it.
He took out ring.
Simple.
Old-fashioned.
Not enormous.
“Will you marry me?”
Cora looked toward water.
Thought of Sean.
Her first husband.
The man she had loved.
There was no betrayal in loving again.
She knew that now.
Thought of Patrick.
Marianne.
Papa G.
Delilah.
Samuel.
Michael.
The family recovered.
Then Wesley.
Flawed.
Learning.
Present.
“Yes.”
He exhaled so visibly she laughed.
“You were nervous.”
“Extremely.”
Good.
Their wedding stayed small.
Not secret.
Private.
Il Farro courtyard.
Papa G cried before ceremony started.
Delilah threatened his makeup though he wore none.
Samuel walked Cora halfway down aisle.
Then stopped.
Cora walked rest alone.
Her choice.
Wesley understood symbolism without needing explanation.
At reception, table six remained empty.
Reserved.
For Patrick and Marianne in memory.
Next to it one small frame for Sean.
Cora insisted.
Wesley agreed.
No competition with dead.
No erasure.
Then during dinner, Rowan brought a package.
Everyone groaned.
“No more evidence,” Cora said.
He smiled.
“Not evidence.”
Restored cookbook from Donnelly Provision.
Patrick’s recipes.
Margins full of codes.
But one page contained no fraud.
Just stew recipe.
At bottom:
Cora likes carrots, hates peas.
She started crying.
Memory from age five.
Her father knew.
That was enough.
Then another line:
If she grows up stubborn, blame Marianne.
Cora laughed.
Wesley looked toward photograph.
“I think he’d approve.”
“Of me being stubborn?”
“Definitely.”
Then Papa G raised glass.
“To people who finally stopped keeping secrets.”
Everyone looked around.
Then laughed.
May you like
Because that was optimistic.
But worth trying.
