Chapter 39
Four days before the grand opening, Beth discovered there were limits to how many people could ask her questions at the same time.
She was standing in the middle of the main events room when a man carrying a framed landscape approached from one direction, Rachel hurried toward her from another, and somewhere behind them Dave called her name.
“Beth?”
She turned.
Dave was holding two clipboards and pointing toward the front entrance. “The furniture truck is here.”
“Already?”
“You told them ten.”
Beth checked her watch. It was ten-fifteen. For some reason, she’d been convinced it was barely nine-thirty. “Right. Of course I did.”
Rachel reached her. “Where do you want the photographs from the high school?”
“Gallery wall.”
“Which section?”
Beth stared at her.
Rachel smiled sympathetically. “You don’t know, do you?”
“I did yesterday.”
A drilling noise started outside and Beth closed her eyes.
The plumbers had arrived before seven to continue replacing the damaged section of sewer line running beneath the parking lot.
What should have been a relatively straightforward repair had become considerably more complicated once they’d started digging.
Now there was a trench outside, orange safety barriers blocked six parking spaces, and a small excavator sat where Beth had planned to put the balloons on opening morning.
She opened her eyes again. “Put the photographs near the children’s artwork. I want people to see them as soon as they walk toward the gallery.”
“Got it.” Rachel turned away.
“And make sure the labels stay with them.”
Rachel looked over her shoulder. “Already done.”
Beth could have hugged her. Instead, she turned to the artist beside her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Henderson. You were asking me something?”
“Where would you like this?”
The painting was a beautiful view of Flathead Lake at sunset. Before Beth could answer, Laurel appeared.
“I’ll take it,” she said brightly. “Come with me.”
Mr. Henderson followed her toward the gallery.
Beth mouthed, “Thank you.”
Laurel grinned and disappeared.
Another crash sounded from outside. Beth flinched.
“It was only a shovel,” Natalie called from near the entrance.
“How do you know?”
“Because I checked.”
Beth pressed a hand against her chest. “At this point, I’m going to need you to keep doing that.”
Natalie laughed and returned to the elderly woman she was helping.
The arts center looked nothing like it had yesterday. Paintings leaned against walls waiting to be hung. Boxes of craft supplies were stacked beside the reception desk. Someone had left a large ceramic moose on the floor near Beth’s office, and she had no idea who it belonged to.
Julie was unpacking pottery onto a long table while Laurel and Rachel organized the artwork. And Dave had somehow become responsible for directing traffic.
He opened the front door and waved to the furniture delivery driver. “Bring the chairs through here,” he called. “Tables go into the events room. Anything marked ‘Children’s room’ goes down the hallway.”
Beth hurried toward him. “The armchairs for the reading area need to go into the smaller room. And when Pastor John arrives with some beanbags, he can put them in the same room.”
Dave looked amused. “We made a plan, Beth. It will be okay.”
Beth sighed. “I know we made a plan. I just can’t remember any of it.”
“You don’t need to. I have it.” He lifted one of his clipboards and gave her three sheets of paper.
Beth could have kissed him. Instead, she stepped out of the way as two deliverymen carried a stack of chairs through the doors.
Natalie appeared beside her. “I have good news.”
Beth immediately narrowed her eyes. “How good?”
“Very.”
“Because your definition of good and mine might be different today.”
Natalie slipped her phone into her jacket pocket. “I spoke to the council administrator this morning. The sewer repair won’t come out of the arts center budget or from Dave’s savings account.”
For a second, Beth thought she’d misunderstood. “How did that happen?”
“The council has a property maintenance fund for unexpected repairs to council-owned buildings,” Natalie told her. “Because the damaged line existed before the renovation, and the sewer services more than the center, they’ve agreed to cover the work from that fund.”
Relief rushed through Beth so quickly that her knees almost weakened. “All of it?”
“All of it.”
Beth grabbed Natalie’s hands. “You are my favorite person.”
“I thought I already was.”
“Today you definitely are.”
Natalie laughed. “There is one condition.”
Beth’s happiness vanished. “Of course there is.”
“The plumbers have to document the repair and provide the council with a full report.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Beth hugged her.
Natalie laughed again and hugged her back. “I take it you’re pleased.”
“I was imagining us spending the next year holding bake sales to pay for a sewer pipe.”
Natalie grinned. “You’d probably raise the money.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Someone called Beth’s name. She released Natalie and turned around.
Julie stood beside a woman holding an enormous abstract painting in shades of red and gold. “Where does this go?”
Before Beth could answer, another voice came from behind her.
“Excuse me. We need someone to sign for the furniture.”
“I’ll do it,” Dave said.
“Beth,” Rachel called. “We’ve run out of picture hooks.”
“I have more in my car,” Laurel shouted.
The drilling outside started again.
Beth looked at Natalie. “Is it too late to cancel the opening?”
“Yes.”
A deep sigh worked its way through Beth’s chest. “I thought so.”
For the next hour, the building seemed to fill faster than they could organize it. But slowly, beneath the confusion, something extraordinary began to happen. The arts center started looking finished.
Beth stood opposite the gallery and stared. The wall she and Dave had spent so much time working on was disappearing beneath paintings, photographs, watercolors, and children’s drawings. Owen’s glass bowls would arrive tomorrow, but even without them, the room had changed.
It wasn’t an empty building anymore. It was becoming the place they’d imagined.
“Quite a mess.”
Beth’s moment of happiness vanished. She knew that voice. Councilmember Walt Harvey stood inside the entrance, taking in the stacked boxes, deliverymen, artwork, and the noise coming from outside. Of all the mornings he could have chosen to visit, it was this one.
Beth walked toward him. “Good morning, Councilmember Harvey.”
“Morning.” Walt glanced through the glass doors toward the excavator. “What happened out there?”
“We found a damaged sewer line.”
His eyebrows rose. “Four days before you open?”
“We first noticed the problem eight days ago,” Beth told him. “But it’s taken this long to get it fixed.”
Walt frowned. “And you’re digging up the parking lot?”
Beth didn’t want to go into the finer details of the disastrous sewer line. She didn’t have the time. “The plumbers are repairing it.”
Walt looked around the building again. “Seems to me you’ve got a lot left to do.”
Beth felt the first spark of irritation. “We do.”
“You’re still expecting to open on Saturday?”
“Yes.”
He gave her a doubtful look. “I’d be reconsidering that.”
“We’re not postponing,” Beth said firmly as Natalie joined them.
Walt nodded toward the gallery. “Half the artwork isn’t hung. You’ve got furniture arriving, construction outside, and four days to sort it out.”
Beth folded her arms. “Which is why everyone is working.”
“I’m only being realistic,” Walt told her with a tight smile.
Beth wouldn’t be intimidated. “So am I.”
“You really think you’ll have this place ready?” Walt asked.
She looked around the room. It was noisy, crowded, and chaotic, but it wasn’t a failure. She turned back to Walt. “Come back Saturday morning and see the arts center for yourself.”
His expression didn’t change. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, I did,” Beth said firmly.
For the first time, Natalie smiled.
Walt looked from her to Beth. “I hope you’re right.”
“So do I,” Beth admitted. “But we’re opening.”
He nodded once and walked toward the door.
Beth waited until he was outside before releasing the breath she’d been holding.
Natalie touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“You were very confident.”
Beth was glad her boss thought so. “I’ll panic later.”
Natalie grinned. “Schedule it for five.”
Beth laughed despite herself.
From across the room, Laurel called, “Beth, where do you want the ceramic moose?”
Beth looked toward the strange sculpture that had been sitting outside her office all morning. “I still don’t know who brought it.”
A woman near the gallery raised her hand. “That’s mine.”
Beth stared at Natalie.
Natalie shrugged.
Four days. They only needed to survive four more days. Beth walked toward the woman and smiled. “Tell me about your moose.”