Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
J ust like he said, Connor was there bright and early to help her set up the art show, greeting her with a wide smile and a quick kiss. He moved around the pavilion, adjusting the art with a keen eye. He stood back, tilting his head slightly as he eyed the display, making a few more tweaks until he was satisfied. She admired his attention to detail and dedication to making sure everything looked perfect.
Beverly showed up with Dale and Maxine, and they set up the display of historical items, asking Connor for his input to help arrange things. Amanda finally stood back and surveyed their work. “I think everything looks wonderful.”
“You did such a good job with this,” Beverly said as she came over and draped an arm around Amanda’s waist and gave her a hug. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“I just hope it all goes off without a hitch. At least the weather is cooperating.” She looked up at the clear blue sky. “Couldn’t ask for better weather.”
“It wouldn’t dare mess with our festival,” Beverly said as more vendors began to arrive and set up along the boardwalk.
“I need to go check and see if anyone needs anything.” She glanced over and grinned when she saw the funnel cake vendor setting up close by. She’d managed to snag a replacement funnel cake vendor with Beverly’s help.
“I better run back to the cottage and get Megan and Brooklyn. I’ll see you in a bit?” Connor squeezed her hand.
“Okay, see you soon.” Her heart fluttered at the lingering glance he gave her before he turned and left.
Beverly turned to her and grinned. “Looks like you two worked things out.”
Her cheeks warmed. “We did.”
“Glad to see the man came to his senses.” Beverly nodded. “I better go. We’re serving sandwiches at the cafe today. Expecting a brisk business. But I’ll catch up with you tonight for the fireworks.”
Amanda surveyed the bustling festival as she went to each vendor to make sure they were all set. People began to flood the area. Locals mingled with tourists. The ferry had set up extra trips back and forth for the day.
“Miss Kingston?” A man in a white suit stopped her and smiled. “We got our fourth singer. We’re all set.”
She smiled at him. “Oh, good. The festival wouldn’t be the same without the barbershop quartet.”
Amanda barely had time to enjoy the Heritage Festival as she ran around making sure everything was going smoothly. Connor, Megan, and Brooklyn finally caught up with her.
“You should take a break and enjoy yourself,” Connor said. “After you put in all this work, you should at least get to experience it.”
“I could be persuaded to indulge in some funnel cake.” She laughed.
“Me too.” Brooklyn jumped up and down. “Me too. Can I, Momma?”
“How about you split one with Uncle Connor?”
“I guess so.” She scowled and turned to Connor. “You better not eat it all.”
He ruffled her hair. “I won’t, Princess, I promise.”
Brooklyn took her uncle’s hand and skipped by his side. She and Megan lagged behind them. “So, my brother finally told you what happened, huh?”
“He did. And I’m so sorry. I can see why he moved here and avoided the whole art scene.”
“But his work should be seen. I hate that he hides it.”
“Maybe showing it here at the show will make him more open to the idea.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Connor and Brooklyn returned with the funnel cakes and they took bites of them as they wandered along the weathered boardwalk. When they finished, Megan said, “Let’s go see the art show now. I can’t wait to see your work on display.”
“Yes, Uncle Connor is famous now.” Brooklyn bobbed her head.
“Not quite, Princess.”
They walked over to the pavilion, and Miss Eleanor stopped them. “Amanda, you’ve done a fine job with the festival.” She looked at Connor, then Amanda, and a small smile crept across her lips. “Just wanted to let you know.” She turned to leave, but not before nodding at Connor approvingly.
“I think she’s pleased you listened to her,” Amanda whispered.
“I’m pretty sure everyone in town does what Miss Eleanor asks.” He grinned back at her.
They climbed the stairs to the pavilion and browsed through the artwork and historical items. When they got in front of Connor’s carvings, a man standing looking at the carvings turned around. “These are original Connor Dempsey carvings.”
“They are.” Amanda nodded.
“You can tell because he signs his work with these carved symbols on the bottom. Do you know where I can contact him? I’d like to see some of his newer work.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“My wife is a collector of his work. I’d love to surprise her with a new piece for our fiftieth wedding anniversary. I bought one of his carvings earlier at a small cafe in town. But I was so eager to show her that I already gave it to her. Now I find myself without a fiftieth wedding anniversary present.”
Amanda turned to Connor, not giving him away. Megan nudged him with a gentle bump.
Connor held out his hand. “I’m Connor Dempsey. Pleased to meet you.”
“You are? Wonderful.” The man pumped Connor’s hand. “This is great.”
“Maybe you could come by my workshop and see some of my new work. We’ll see if we can find something your wife might like.”
“That’s great. I’ll be back in town next week. Will that work?”
“It will.”
“Perfect.” The man smiled and walked away.
“See, told you people want your art,” Megan said pointedly.
“And you’re always right, aren’t you, Megs?”
“Pretty much.” Megan took Brooklyn’s hand. “How about we go see what kind of sandwiches Miss Beverly has? We’ll meet you two back here in a bit.” They took off with Brooklyn taking a skip and a hop for each of Megan’s steps. It was just a simple moment, but it warmed Amanda’s heart. It was moments like these that made Magnolia Key feel like home, a place where dreams could blossom and hope take flight.
She pulled her gaze from Megan and Brooklyn and turned to Connor. “Are you… happy? Are you ready to sell your art again?”
“I’m not sure how I feel. Been a long time since I sold a piece.”
“Maybe it’s time to get back in the art world.” She squeezed his hand. “If you think you’re ready. If it’s something you want.”
“Maybe it is.”
Beverly came by later, all smiles. “Biggest turnout we’ve ever had for the festival. Everyone is so pleased. You did a wonderful job.”
“Thank you. I was glad I was here to help.”
“Is it just like the one you went to when you were a girl?”
She looked up at Connor, then back to Beverly. “Pretty much.” She grinned. “But a few changes.”
Connor grinned, and Beverly laughed. “Nothing wrong with a few changes. Good changes.” Beverly shook her head. “Things have a way of working out here on Magnolia. Anyway, I better run. Meeting up with Maxine and Dale. Oh, and I’ll take down all the history items after the fireworks, don’t worry about those. I’ve wrangled some volunteers to take the art back to city hall, too. The artists can pick up their work there. Oh, and so far, the auction has brought in more than ever. The funding for next year’s festival is secure.”
“Oh, I’m so glad.” A pang of melancholy struck her. Not that she’d be there, but at least whoever took over next year wouldn’t have to worry about funds.
They met up later with Megan and Brooklyn and sat on the wall near the boardwalk and watched the fireworks. The crowd oohed and aahed as the display lit up the sky. Each shower of glittering embers reminded her of the magic this island had brought to her life. The grand finale was a masterpiece of colors and booms and sparkles. She snuck a look at Connor, the lights reflecting in his eyes. He turned and smiled at her before looking up at the display again. Joy rose in her, filling her with a sense of contentment. What had begun as a simple respite from the hustle of her city life had become so much more.
After the show, they all headed back to the cottages. Brooklyn yawned, no longer her energetic, skipping self. Connor scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.
When they got to his cottage, Megan took Brooklyn. “I better get her to bed. Good night, Amanda. It was a wonderful festival.”
“Thank you.”
Megan and Brooklyn slipped into Connor’s cottage, and he took Amanda’s hand, leading her over to hers. They climbed her deck slowly.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.” His eyes twinkled like the fireworks.
“What a coincidence. I’ve been wanting to be kissed all day.”
He took her into his arms, kissing her gently. She sighed, feeling like she was right where she belonged.
Beverly and Maxine worked at the pavilion after the fireworks, packing up items. She turned when she felt someone watching her. “Cliff, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. I came earlier and looked at the items you have here in the historical display.”
Maxine came to stand beside her. “Cliff, we’re kind of busy now.”
He nodded over to where the purse and the letter still rested on the table with the painting she’d found in her office propped up behind it. She’d placed a sign near them asking anyone who knew anything about the items to contact her. “You know how you were hoping someone had some idea to help you with unraveling some of the mystery from the items you found? I can’t really help with the painting, but I can with the letter.”
Beverly eyed him suspiciously, doubting she should trust him, but curious anyway. “You can?”
“It’s in code.”
Maxine snapped her fingers. “That’s what we thought.”
“We already figured that, Cliff.”
“I know the code,” he said simply.
“How?” She frowned.
“My grandmother taught it to me. Kind of a family secret, I guess.”
“And your mother knows it?”
“I’m sure she does.”
“That’s why Miss Eleanor was so cryptic when she saw the letter,” Maxine said. “So what does it say?”
“It says meet me at the landing at seven Friday night.”
“It does?” Beverly walked over and picked up the letter, looking at the random words on the page.
“It does. Don’t know who wrote it. But that’s what it says.”
She looked at Cliff for a moment. “Well… thank you. At least that’s something to go on.”
“Can I help you take all this down?”
She stared at him for a long moment. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t need your help.” Not with packing up the art and the historical items, not with anything.
Cliff let out a sigh. “Okay, but someday you’re going to have to talk to me. We should sort things out.”
“There is nothing to sort out, Cliff. Nothing.”
He nodded once, then turned and walked away. Maxine wrapped her arm around her waist. “You okay?”
“I am. He just… gets under my skin, and I shouldn’t let him.”
“I guess the festival brought him back to town.” Maxine looked over to where Cliff was heading down the boardwalk.
“I guess. Or trying to get more people on his side about his ridiculous high-rise at the end of the boardwalk.” Beverly scowled.
“We won’t let that happen. Miss Eleanor won’t let it happen. Maybe she can talk some sense into her son.”
“I’m not sure that Cliff ever listens to anyone.”