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“Congratulations,” she says.

They were all at the reception, but they all left before the painting sold.

Kell brightens. “Thank you.”

Tom lifts the grill tongs in his direction. “Big sale.”

“It was.”

“How big?” Janet asks.

Kell tells her. She blinks once. “Well. That’s considerably more than paint money. I want to go on the record to say I’ve always believed in you.”

“You bought me paint before I’d sold anything.”

“That proves my point.”

Kell laughs and heads toward the grill to see what Tom is allegedly destroying.

Dinner takes over for a while. Shannon and Tom continue their argument over the burgers, Blair passes salad, and three different conversations keep colliding across the table. Kell sits beside me, one knee resting against mine beneath the table, as he tells Tom about the gallery reception.

By the time we finish the main course, the light has started thinning and most of us have edged a little closer to the firepit. The platters are mostly empty, and Tom has finally stopped defending the burgers. Shannon and Blair carry plates inside while Rachel brings dessert out to the patio.

Tom nods toward the tarp. “Now?”

Locke looks around at the rest of us, then gets to his feet. “Now.”

That gets everyone moving. Rachel stays near the table, smiling while the rest of us gather around the covered shape. She’s obviously seen whatever is under there from every angle and through every stage of construction, but she looks almost as eager as the rest of us to see everyone’s reaction.

Kell leans toward me. “Finally.”

“You’ve been staring at it since we arrived.”

“Of course I have.”

Locke catches one corner of the tarp and pulls it away. Nobody says anything.

The heron is enormous, taller than I am and nearly as tall as Kell. Its body is woven from willow in broad, sweeping lines, one wing partly open and the long neck curved as though the bird has just turned toward something beyond us. Even standing still, it looks poised to move.

Tom lets out a low whistle. Shannon circles toward one side, while Blair steps closer to examine the open wing. Janet studies the base with the concentration of someone assessing whether it can survive a tornado.

Kell takes longer than anyone else to move. Then he walks slowly around the heron, taking in the neck, the wing, the way Locke has shaped the body. By the time he reaches the front again, his whole face has come alive.

“This is incredible.”

Locke gives a small nod. “Thanks.”

“The wing looks like it’s about to move.”

“That took a while.”

“I can see why.”

Kell looks back at it, open admiration written all over him. Rachel lets everyone have another moment before she says, “Tell them.”

Locke looks as though he’d rather discuss the structure than stand there being celebrated. “It sold.”

Kell turns. “Fantastic!”