“Let me know what you need, Donovan, and I’ll aim to provide it,” Art told him. “But not tonight. This is a party and I want the first dance with this beautiful lady.”
Art and Winifred walked to the dance floor and slid into each other’s arms as if they’d been a couple for years. As they glided around the room, Donovan couldn’t help but admit they looked good together.
“What do you think of him?” Reese asked quietly.
“I don’t know what to think. Is he always that…friendly with Grandmother?”
“Pretty much. They’ve seen a lot of each other ever since he arrived and more so since she had her operation. She seems to adore him.”
“Who’d have thought?” Donovan looked for and found Ariane. She stood in a corner, sipping punch, her attention on Abby who was smiling and gesturing as she talked.
“Made your amends there yet?” Reese asked.
“I apologized. Abby said it didn’t matter, that she’d moved on.”
“You believe it?”
“I don’t know what to think. She’s changed a lot. More focused. Harder.” Donovan shrugged. “Not that it matters. I don’t have time for anything but my work here and Ariane.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Reese held up a hand. “I don’t need an answer. But if you want to talk, I’m available. It’s good to have you back, little brother.”
“Thanks, Reese. I hope I can share some of the burden for this place.”
“Just don’t make the same mistake I did in thinking work is the panacea for pain.” Reese clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Take it from me, it isn’t. Think I’ll go dance with my wife.”
“You do that. Olivia’s a beautiful woman. You’re a lucky man.”
Reese shook his head.
“Not lucky,” he said firmly. “Blessed.”
Donovan watched him nudge Olivia, then murmur something in her ear. She smiled and inclined her head toward the twins who were staring at the welcome-back cake that sat on a stand at the front of the room. Reese looked as if he’d go and get them, but Olivia shook her head and lifted her hand to his shoulder. They stepped onto the floor with the comfort of two people who understood each other.
Winifred, with Art in tow, touched Donovan’s shoulder, drawing his attention to his parents. He watched his laughing mother tease his grimacing father, who was not following her lead on the dance floor.
“Everyone seems to have a partner but you,” Winifred murmured. “Why don’t you ask Abby to dance?”
“She doesn’t dance,” he said, and then wondered if that was still true. So many things he’d thought he knew for certain had changed. Abby dancing was probably the least of them.
“Even if that’s so, it would still be nice to ask her.”
“It would be a little awkward, don’t you think, Grandmother? Dating isn’t in my future and I’m pretty sure Abby’s focused on her contest.”
“You don’t have to date her,” Winifred sniffed. “But it might be nice if you two could get rid of the barriers.”
“We’ve done that already.” Because he was watching Winifred so closely, Donovan saw the slight rose flush that colored her delicately powdered cheeks. “Don’t matchmake, Grandmother. Whatever was between Abby and me in high school died five years ago.”
“I wouldn’t dream of matchmaking,” Winifred sniffed. “I know you’re trying to be responsible. I know you’re working hard to be a good father to Ariane and I applaud you. But being a father can’t and shouldn’t become your whole life. Reese can tell you about that.” Winifred asked Art for some punch, then threaded her arm through Donovan’s and drew him toward a table where he helped her sit.
“Are you all right?” he asked, worried by her pale color.
“I’m fine. Listen to me. Abby’s become as precious to me as if she was my own granddaughter. I want her to achieve all of her dreams. I believe she has the capacity to reach great heights.”
“So do I,” he agreed.
“I don’t want her to feel awkward about working here just because you’re back, Donovan.”
“I don’t think Abby’s that easily upset,” he murmured, watching as she danced with the twins, laughing at their antics. So she did dance.
Abby detests kids. It hadn’t rung true then and it didn’t now. Her eyes sparkled with fun, her smile spread across her face.
“Abby hides her feelings. She’s had to. Talk to God, Donovan. Find out how he wants you to respond to Abby.”
Having said her piece, Winifred signaled Katie who asked everyone to have a seat. Donovan beckoned Ariane to sit beside him as the others all found places. Art sat next to Winifred.
When the room was silent again, Katie took the microphone.
“Welcome to our welcome-back party,” she said, grinning. “It is our greatest pleasure to have Grandmother with us tonight and my special pleasure to tell you that come Monday morning, she expects to be seated behind her desk, making sure we’re all hard at work.”
The room erupted in cheering. Katie waited until there was relative silence.
“Dad?”
Thomas Woodward rose, lifted his glass.
“I’d like to propose a toast to my mother. May she be behind that desk for years to come. Welcome back, Winifred.”
“To Winifred.”
Donovan tinkled his glass against Ariane’s and waited for her to taste the apple cider. She wrinkled her nose after a sip, but gamely gave it another try. Katie turned to him.
“My brother Donovan has at long last returned from Europe to head up our own in-house marketing department. We’re glad he’s back and thrilled he brought his goddaughter Ariane with him. Welcome home, Donovan and Ariane.”
Slightly embarrassed, Donovan rose, bowed and promised he’d do his best for Weddings by Woodwards while Ariane stared at everyone with her huge dark eyes. Finally, Fiona rose to say a blessing over the food. When Donovan looked up, Abby had slipped into the seat across from them.
“There wasn’t anywhere else,” she apologized in a whisper.
“No problem.”
“I saw Winifred talking to you earlier. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine.” He waited until their salads had been served. “Ariane’s been admiring you.”
“Oh.” Abby blinked, then glanced at his goddaughter. “Why?”
“I think it’s your earrings. She loves all that sparkles. Your design?”
Abby nodded.
“They’re lovely.”
“Thanks.” She averted her eyes and concentrated on eating.
“Abby makes lots of jewelry, Ari. She’s a quite-famous jewelry designer.”
“Not yet, but soon, hopefully.” Abby smiled at Ariane who seemed intrigued by the bracelet Donovan had given Abby. “Do you like jewelry, Ariane?”
The little girl nodded eagerly and after signaling that she needed a pen from Donovan, she drew an altered picture of the bracelet she’d helped Olivia form.
“Ah, I see you’ve had a