by Thea Cambert
“That’s right,” said Pippa. “Being grandmothers is going to be so much fun!”
“By the way, Mom,” said Franny, turning to Pippa. “I just remembered: Samuel at the Valley Inn told us that you and Dad had some kind of meeting yesterday. What was that about?”
Pippa grinned and put her arm around Albert. “Your dad and I were meeting with Walter Babbage.”
“Walter? The real estate agent?”
“Yep. And with Chester,” said Albert, nodding in the direction of Chester and Granny, who were chatting with a group of guests nearby.
“Chester?” asked Franny. “Why?”
“Well, as you know, Chester and Granny have been neighbors for many years,” said Pippa, motioning in the direction of Azalea Street, just a short walk from where they were standing. Chester’s house was a beautiful Shaker-style cottage encircled with large trees and cheerful flower gardens.
“And now that Chester will be moving into Granny’s house, we figured he might want to sell his place,” said Albert.
“I’ve always loved that house,” said Pippa. “So we bought it!”
“You did?” Franny stood and hugged her parents. “You’re moving to Blue Valley!”
“We have so many dear friends here anyway,” said Pippa. “And now we have little Theo too.”
Luke brought a tray filled with glasses of punch and handed them around. Martin called Granny, who looked radiant in a simple champagne-colored gown with sheer, sparkling elbow-length sleeves, and Chester, dapper in his blazer and tie, to join him in the gazebo.
“Please join me in celebrating the happy couple, Georgina and Chester Lehman! Raise a glass to love and friends and family!”
“To love, friends, and family!” the crowd repeated.
“Let’s cut the cake!” said Granny, giving Owen a wink.
For the next hour or so, Chester and Granny were surrounded by their loved ones, the cake received rave reviews, and the Gothic Trolls—Blue Valley’s favorite musical group—set up in the gazebo and entertained the crowd.
A breathless Michael came hurrying up, straightening his tie as he walked. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, joining Alice and Owen as they sat on a bench together, eating cake. “The most amazing thing just happened to me.”
“What is it?” Owen asked.
“Before he left town, Saladin Raeve got me a meeting with Sonia Blake—the poet. She looked at my work and said I have real talent. Can you believe it?”
“Of course we can believe it,” said Owen, jumping up and clapping. “She’s clearly far more accomplished than that Lawrence Spraggins—not to speak ill of him or anything.”
“Actually, Saladin and Addy had another surprise for me before they left,” said Michael, who looked like he was about to burst. “After Blanche was taken into custody, they released Lawrence’s things. Saladin and Addy found a note in the notebook Lawrence was using at his meetings with writers.” Michael pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
Owen unfolded it and read aloud. “Brilliant poet, needs to build confidence. I told him to quit writing and not pursue publication. If he still chooses to write in spite of this discouragement, it’ll be because he must write, and I know he’ll make it.” Owen looked at Michael, who was beaming. “Michael, that’s amazing!”
“Amazing is right!” Doc Howard walked over to join them, Mrs. Howard on his arm. “That delivery last night at the hospital. Never in all my years of delivering babies have I seen an entire group of people surrounding a new mom and dad, all dressed in Shakespearean garb.”
“Well I most definitely approve!” said Mrs. Howard. “I say introduce them to the Bard early in life!”
“I’m with you, Mrs. Howard,” said Helen, who’d just joined them holding a plate with a large piece of wedding cake on it. “And Theo will be needing his own library card before too long!”
“Gather round, single people!” Granny called from the gazebo. “I’m tossing the bouquet!”
Before anyone could prepare themselves, Granny’s bouquet went flying through the air, bouncing off of Luke’s head and landing in Alice’s arms.
“Wedding bouquets never lie,” said Owen. “You two better set a date.”
“Owen’s right,” said Pearl Ann Dowry, who had caught Franny’s bouquet in the fall. “Norman and I are getting married in September!”
Luke planted a kiss on Alice’s cheek. “I’d marry you right this minute,” he whispered.
Just then, the Gothic Trolls struck up their various instruments and launched into their newest song, “The Ballad of Larry the Star-Crossed Wyvern.”
“If music be the food of love, play on,” said Owen, perching an elbow on Michael’s shoulder.
“Well-said, Owen,” said Mrs. Howard with a nod of approval.
Alice laughed, taking Luke’s hand and pulling him into her arms. Over his shoulder, she could see Franny and Ben, pushing little Theo around the park in his stroller, adoring grandparents close behind. And there were Granny and Chester, dancing together, eyes full of joy. Dear friends stood about in groups, eating cake and chatting and laughing together. And children ran through the trees, playing hide and seek, just like Ben and Alice had as children, right in this very park.
Alice let out a long, contented sigh. “Play on, indeed.”
Author’s Note
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