Emily watched Matt raise his champagne glass as he offered up a toast. “To Maria Barton,” he said. “The artist whose fine work has brought us all together today.”
“To Maria!” the crowd shouted, and there was laughter as everyone saluted Emily’s mother.
Mom wasn’t about to be outdone. “And to Matt Dawson, whose foundation is responsible for the opening of the first art gallery in the history of Harmony Springs’s Central Business District. Matt is a kind and generous patron of the arts—and I’m not just saying that because he’s my son-in-law!”
More laughter, and another wave of champagne disappeared down the throats of the assembled crowd. Emily watched with pride as the art critic from The Washington Courier swooped to her mother’s side. The paper was running a feature about Moderne Gallery and its opening exhibit of gourd sculptures.
“Congratulations, Matty.” Emily turned back in time to see Matt’s mother brush a kiss against his cheek. “Emily, dear. You must be so proud of everything the Foundation has done.”
“It’s taken hard work from a lot of people,” Emily said. And that wasn’t a lie. She’d thought it had taken a herculean effort to incorporate Save Our Stores, back in the winter. But that was nothing compared to the challenge of building a foundation from the ground up. She’d reviewed mountains of paperwork with Matt. She’d traveled to New York for classes on non-profit marketing. She’d designed a website and half a dozen print brochures.
And somewhere along the way, she’d planned a wedding too. It had been a small affair, just her and Matt at the courthouse, their mothers in tow as witnesses, along with her siblings and Rachel and Troy. They’d invited the entire town back to Old Man Marshall’s place afterwards, for a summer picnic under the stars.
“Speaking of hard work,” Susan said, “I’d better get home. Caden should be wrapping up his first day of school. Junior year! Who knows how much homework he’ll bring with him?”
“Tell him to give me a call if he needs help with anything,” Emily said. She squeezed Matt’s hand at the brilliant smile on his mother’s face.
Emily couldn’t remember now who had thought of the solution first—or maybe she and Matt had come up with it together. But Susan Dawson couldn’t be happier with a boy living under her roof again. And Caden might be too proud to admit it, but he was thrilled to have a family during the week, for the long days when his father worked in DC. Mike Harper’s weekend visits gave everyone the perfect change of pace.
As Susan headed for the door, someone called for Matt to come to the front of the room. He was needed for photographs, for a quotation about what Moderne Gallery meant to Harmony Springs, for a hint of what the Foundation’s next project would be.
As Emily looked on with pride, Rachel stepped up, juggling a plate of hors d’oeuvres, a glass of champagne, and a seven-month-old daughter who’d fallen asleep against her shoulder. “Nice job,” Rachel said.
“Thanks.”
“I see you’re toasting with soda water.”
Emily’s cheeks flamed. No one else had noticed. But Rachel hadn’t become editor of The Herald by accident. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“How far along are you?” Rachel asked.
Emily hummed a few notes. “I’m not listening!”
“Fine,” Rachel said. “You can wait and make an announcement at Yoga Night next Monday.”
Emily settled a hand over her not-yet-visible baby bump. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Hmm,” Rachel mused. “We’ll see. Look how well things worked out the last time I dared you to do something!”
And just like that, the Purr started humming at the back of Emily’s mind. She laughed, loud enough that Matt looked up from his interview at the front of the room. He flicked a quick glance toward her hand on her belly, and his lips quirked to match hers. Soon enough, all their friends would know. But for now, Emily was content to share her secret with her husband.