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“Nobody better,” Cleo agreed. “I can do an illustration of the manor.”
“Which I can use to create invitations.”
“I’m seeing Corrine tomorrow. I bet she’d know who should go on the guest list.”
After dishing up the meal, they sat at the kitchen counter, working on the details.
“Late May,” Sonya decided. “Early June. We’d have some green, some blooms. We’ll do some planters. People would be able to use the deck, the gardens.”
“If this shapes up the way it looks like it could, there’s no way our meager talents can handle the food.”
“So, we use every restaurant in the village—spread it out. Something from the Lobster Cage, from the pizzeria, from the hotel kitchen, from the bakery, the China Kitchen, the Village Pub. A little bit from all.”
“Smorgasbord, and excellent community relations. It’s genius. We’d need servers.”
“We tap Bree, Anna’s husband, get some help figuring that part out.”
“We’re beyond shindig, Son. We’re having An Event.”
Thrilled, Sonya bounced in her chair. “Who says we’re boring?”
“Not me.”
They went back to work, both full of ideas and enthusiasm.
Before she settled into it, Sonya texted Trey.
News! Cleo and I are hosting An Event, sometime late May/early June. An open house at the manor, to include invites to friends, relatives, local luminaries, politicos, merchants. Looking for help making up the guest list.
Major undertaking. Sure you’re ready for that? Answer must be yes. I can help, but my mother or Seth are more tuned in for this kind of thing. Fair warning, you won’t see many declines or regrets.
We’ve got weeks to plan it out, so we’ll be ready. Cleo’s seeing your mom tomorrow, and will enlist her. We’re both putting in a little extra work time tonight. How about you?
The same. Mookie thinks I’m boring and misses Yoda. I miss you.
Cleo worries we’re boring. And I miss both of you.
If I can break away tomorrow, why don’t I take you both to dinner? We can try the Tavern at the hotel.
I’ll check with Cleo, but I’d say that’s a yes. A definite yes from me if this includes you staying for breakfast.
Pick you up at seven. Don’t have to leave until maybe eight-thirty the next morning, so we’ll share a bagel. Don’t work too late.
Same to you. But it’s been pretty quiet around here, so I’m taking advantage. See you tomorrow.
He signed off with a heart emoji, which had her deciphering the meaning for the next several minutes.
“Oh, stop. What is this, high school?”
Tabling it, she opened her file on the florist.
In her studio, Cleo stood poised in front of the canvas. She knew now what her mermaid held cupped in her hands. Not a gem, not a shell. She’d hold a clear glass ball. Inside the ball, another mermaid sat on the rock, looking out at sea, a whale sounding, with a glass ball in her hand.
And in that, yet another.
The trick would start with the scale, the tiny details, then the way the light should strike the glass, and the glass within the glass.
She worked to the music of flutes and strings, a soothing sound as she created the main sphere. She wanted the light from the brilliant sunset to glow over the ball, and in turn the light from the inner ball to illuminate the interior.
