Page 91 of Buttons

The ribbon flutters to the ground as applause erupts. Doors swing open behind me, revealing the sanctuary in all its completed glory. My vision manifested through hundreds of hands working together.

As the crowd forms a line for tours, I catch Julian’s eye across the churning sea of people. As this is my professional moment, he doesn’t approach, but he does offer a small, supportive nod that speaks volumes.

We’re still hosting tours hours later, and I spot Julian across the crowded main room as I finish checking Meredith’s toy station. He stands with his back against the far wall, hands loosely folded in front of him, watching. Eight months ago, Julian Plaza would have been at the center of any event bearing his company’s sponsorship, directing traffic, claiming credit, optimizing every interaction. Today, he’s deliberately peripheral.

I pretend to reorganize brochures at the welcome desk, giving myself an excuse to observe him longer without being obvious. Another visitor I vaguely recognize from Julian’s corporate circles approaches him. Julian shakes the man’s hand but doesn’t engage in extended conversation. Instead, he gestures toward me across the room, clearly suggesting I’m the person to speak with.

I love that man. Not the stranger he’s talking with, but Julian.

Julian’s eyes drift toward Leo’s reading corner, where my son is helping a little girl select a book from the organized shelves. Leo’s face is serious with concentration as he listens to the girl’s preferences, then methodically searches the blue-labeled section for the perfect choice. When he finds it, his expression brightens with subtle satisfaction. It’s not the wide grin Meredith might give, but his own quiet version of triumph.

Julian’s face changes as he watches our son. There’s a softening around the eyes, a slight parting of lips. Those eyes were once described by a departing executive as cold and unreadable, but now they warm with genuine feeling. He can give that terrifying corporate stare to whoever he wants, so long as he keeps it out of our home.

As if sensing my observation, Julian’s gaze shifts, finding me across the crowded room. Caught watching, I don’t look away, instead allowing us to hold this moment. A volunteer bumps my elbow, breaking the connection as I turn to answer her question about adoption procedures. Next, the man who spokewith Julian discusses sponsorship opportunities. When I look back, Meredith is abandoning her toy station, weaving through the crowd to where she spotted her father. I watch Julian’s face transform as he sees her coming, genuine and unguarded. He crouches to her level as she reaches him, giving her his complete attention as she launches into an animated description of her toy management system, complete with expansive hand gestures and occasional hops of excitement.

The last visitor finally leaves at 6:17 p.m. I stand in the doorway of the sanctuary, watching her car pull away. There were already forty-seven adoptions completed today.

“Hey.”

I turn to find Julian at the end of the hall. Though he’s been relentlessly helping all day, he still appears clean. Knowing him, he freshened up in the bathroom several times. The thought makes me smile.

“Hey back,” I reply, suddenly conscious of my own disheveled appearance. The tailored suit I selected for today lost its crispness hours ago.

“You should get off those feet,” Julian says, nodding toward my discarded shoes near the welcome desk. “They’ve served their sentence.”

“I’m thinking about burning them,” I admit, rotating one ankle with a wince. “Is everyone gone?”

“Almost.” Julian tucks the rag into his back pocket. “Sarah took Meredith and Leo to the break room for some ice cream as a reward. Beatrix is doing a final check on the cat enclosures. Connor’s locking up the back.”

I nod, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline of the day begins to ebb. “I should probably do a walk-through before we head home.”

“Actually,” Julian says, stepping closer, “there’s something I need to show you first. In your office.”

My office. I’m still not used to having one just for me. No more do I get space outside of Julian’s office or have to borrow Beatrix’s.

“What is it?” I ask.

Julian shakes his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s better if you wait there. Five minutes, tops.”

Before I can protest, he’s walking away, his pace just a bit too quick to be casual. I watch his retreating back, confused but curious. My office sits at the far end of the east wing, a corner room with windows on two sides. I unlock the door with the key on my lanyard and step inside, flicking on the light. Minutes go by as I process the day.

I check my watch. Four minutes. Three. Two.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. “Come in,” I call, expecting Julian.

But it’s Connor. “Julian says you can come out now. We’re all set up.”

“We?” I ask, rising from my chair.

Connor shrugs, his calloused hand scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “You’ll see. This way.”

He leads me toward the reading corner, which is the heart of the children’s education program that Leo helped design. As we approach, I notice something odd: the lights in the main corridor are dimmed, the only light a warm glow from the reading area ahead.

“What’s going on?” I whisper, though I’m not sure why I’m whispering.

Connor just smiles, stepping aside at the reading corner entrance. “After you.”

I turn the corner and stop.