Page 93 of A Vineyard Wedding
Annie was confused. “So . . . when is it? Or when was it?”
“January second. They’re on vacation until then.”
A sudden tingle coursed through her. “Then it’s not too late?”
Louisa shook her head. “Nope. We just hope you have a good financial planner to take care of your earnings.”
Annie’s eyes darted around the room in search of John; he was busy nattering with a group of island cops.
“Oh,” she said, “that will be taken care of. I have everything I need right here. So does John. We decided we don’t need more money or a bigger house; after we’re married, we’ll live in John’s town house with his girls. Francine and Jonas will be on the property; I’ll keep my cottage, where I can write, which means I’ll be right here if I’m needed.”
Then Annie smiled again and simply said, “But you don’t need to hear about the island’s housing issues. I’d like you to know, though, that I’m going to set up a foundation and give most of the money to Martha’s Vineyard Community Services. They will decide whatever island families, businesses, nonprofits—whoever, whatever—need it the most.”
The women looked at Annie as if she were speaking another language.
Then Trish said, “But you’re going to have to do a lot of work.”
“Work doesn’t scare me. Especially because it will help others. I have a good life here. That’s what really matters, isn’t it?”
In the distance, above the hum of the happy family of islanders and the gentle tones of Taylor’s lovely cello, Annie heard what sounded an awful lot like applause. It was, of course, coming from Murphy, though it was difficult to hear her over the love that filled the room.
