Elizabeth?”
“I was Betsy’s friend,” Stella said.
“Mrs. Brickson is the woman in the portrait,” Mr. Gold said, gesturing toward the display.
The portly man turned rapturous eyes toward the portrait. “I had heard of this piece, but have only seen it in newspaper photos before now. It is magnificent.” Then he turned toward Stella. “And you are the beautiful woman in the portrait?”
“I’ve aged,” Stella said dryly.
“And yet,” Mr. Harvester assured her, “you’re still beautiful.”
Stella’s skeptical look grew even shaper. “I am old, Mr. Harvester. As are you. Beauty is for the young.”
Annie disagreed with that sentiment, but she would not have dared tangle with Stella. Clearly Mr. Harvester was less intimidated. “It is very refreshing to see a beautiful woman who is also modest,” he said.
At that Mr. Gold coughed suddenly, and Annie suspected he was hiding a laugh.
“Mr. Harvester—” Stella began.
“Please call me Edgar.”
“Mr. Harvester, I do not encourage flattery, nor do I enjoy it. I’ve had a long drive today, and I’m going to my room to lie down. I don’t expect we’ll exchange any further conversation, so I bid you goodbye.”
With that, Stella made a grand exit befitting a movie star. Annie was quite impressed, and Mr. Harvester stood staring after her. Annie suspected his mouth might even be agape, though you couldn’t tell as it was hidden behind the mustache.
Finally, he turned back to the portrait and stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch it.
Mr. Gold caught his hand. “Please, do not touch the display.”
The stout man was clearly offended, but he simply nodded, and then turned and walked quickly from the room. “Well, that was easier than I thought it might be,” Mary Beth said.
“What an odd man,” Mr. Gold said. Then he clapped his hands in what Annie was starting to think of as his trademarked gesture. “Well, this display will remain in place until Sunday when we’ll move it all to the main ballroom stage for the ceremony.”
“Main ballroom?” Annie said. “Do you really think you’ll need that many seats?”
“Oh, certainly,” he said. “Mr. Harvester may be Betsy Holden’s oddest fan, but he’s only one of many. I expect the room will be full.”
Annie swallowed a lump in her throat. The dozen or so people she’d been picturing as she planned her speech just got a whole lot scarier. She was glad when everyone decided to head back to their rooms for a little rest. Annie definitely needed to make a panic call to LeeAnn. She was certain her fearless daughter could talk her through her pre-speech jitters.
****
LeeAnn picked up the phone on the second ring, “Hello.”
“I’m in Texas!” Annie announced.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” LeeAnn said. “I wish I could pile the kids in the car and rush right over. In fact, I had really planned to do that. I thought it would be fun to just come and stay at the hotel for the whole weekend. I’m sure I could find things to keep us occupied while you did your convention activities.”
“Oh that would be lovely,” Annie said. “What changed your mind?”
“Joanna woke up sick this morning,” LeeAnn said. “She is throwing up and a little feverish, poor lamb. She’s asleep now. I hustled John off to school—against his strong objections, I might add. I hope he doesn’t catch this.”
“I hope not either,” Annie said, feeling bleak. “If the kids are sick, I’ll understand if you can’t make it at all. I think Mary Beth is planning to film it, so I’ll send you a copy.”
“ I’ll mind!” LeeAnn said. “I have my fingers crossed that this is one of those one-day bugs, and that it skips John. Then we’ll all be there by Saturday—maybe even Friday night, no problem.”
“I hope so,” Annie agreed, “but you need to do whatever is best for the children.”
“I will. Don’t worry about it though, Mom,” LeeAnn said. “But if you want to say
“I was Betsy’s friend,” Stella said.
“Mrs. Brickson is the woman in the portrait,” Mr. Gold said, gesturing toward the display.
The portly man turned rapturous eyes toward the portrait. “I had heard of this piece, but have only seen it in newspaper photos before now. It is magnificent.” Then he turned toward Stella. “And you are the beautiful woman in the portrait?”
“I’ve aged,” Stella said dryly.
“And yet,” Mr. Harvester assured her, “you’re still beautiful.”
Stella’s skeptical look grew even shaper. “I am old, Mr. Harvester. As are you. Beauty is for the young.”
Annie disagreed with that sentiment, but she would not have dared tangle with Stella. Clearly Mr. Harvester was less intimidated. “It is very refreshing to see a beautiful woman who is also modest,” he said.
At that Mr. Gold coughed suddenly, and Annie suspected he was hiding a laugh.
“Mr. Harvester—” Stella began.
“Please call me Edgar.”
“Mr. Harvester, I do not encourage flattery, nor do I enjoy it. I’ve had a long drive today, and I’m going to my room to lie down. I don’t expect we’ll exchange any further conversation, so I bid you goodbye.”
With that, Stella made a grand exit befitting a movie star. Annie was quite impressed, and Mr. Harvester stood staring after her. Annie suspected his mouth might even be agape, though you couldn’t tell as it was hidden behind the mustache.
Finally, he turned back to the portrait and stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch it.
Mr. Gold caught his hand. “Please, do not touch the display.”
The stout man was clearly offended, but he simply nodded, and then turned and walked quickly from the room. “Well, that was easier than I thought it might be,” Mary Beth said.
“What an odd man,” Mr. Gold said. Then he clapped his hands in what Annie was starting to think of as his trademarked gesture. “Well, this display will remain in place until Sunday when we’ll move it all to the main ballroom stage for the ceremony.”
“Main ballroom?” Annie said. “Do you really think you’ll need that many seats?”
“Oh, certainly,” he said. “Mr. Harvester may be Betsy Holden’s oddest fan, but he’s only one of many. I expect the room will be full.”
Annie swallowed a lump in her throat. The dozen or so people she’d been picturing as she planned her speech just got a whole lot scarier. She was glad when everyone decided to head back to their rooms for a little rest. Annie definitely needed to make a panic call to LeeAnn. She was certain her fearless daughter could talk her through her pre-speech jitters.
****
LeeAnn picked up the phone on the second ring, “Hello.”
“I’m in Texas!” Annie announced.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” LeeAnn said. “I wish I could pile the kids in the car and rush right over. In fact, I had really planned to do that. I thought it would be fun to just come and stay at the hotel for the whole weekend. I’m sure I could find things to keep us occupied while you did your convention activities.”
“Oh that would be lovely,” Annie said. “What changed your mind?”
“Joanna woke up sick this morning,” LeeAnn said. “She is throwing up and a little feverish, poor lamb. She’s asleep now. I hustled John off to school—against his strong objections, I might add. I hope he doesn’t catch this.”
“I hope not either,” Annie said, feeling bleak. “If the kids are sick, I’ll understand if you can’t make it at all. I think Mary Beth is planning to film it, so I’ll send you a copy.”
“ I’ll mind!” LeeAnn said. “I have my fingers crossed that this is one of those one-day bugs, and that it skips John. Then we’ll all be there by Saturday—maybe even Friday night, no problem.”
“I hope so,” Annie agreed, “but you need to do whatever is best for the children.”
“I will. Don’t worry about it though, Mom,” LeeAnn said. “But if you want to say
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