Chapter 40
At six-thirty on Saturday morning, Dave found Beth standing in the middle of the arts center with a clipboard in one hand and a roll of tape in the other. She hadn’t noticed him come through the doors.
Dave stayed near the entrance for a moment, watching as she checked something on the reception desk before crossing it off her list. Soft music played through the speakers, filling the otherwise quiet building.
In three and a half hours, the doors would officially open. Right now, everything was ready.
The gallery wall was covered with paintings, photographs, and children’s artwork. Tables for the activities had been arranged along one side of the main room, already supplied with paper, paints, brushes, and aprons. Balloons waited behind the reception desk, ready to be taken outside later.
Even the parking lot looked normal again. The trench had been filled, the damaged sewer line replaced, and the barriers removed yesterday afternoon.
Dave still considered that something of a miracle.
He walked farther into the room. “I hope you didn’t stay here all night.”
Beth spun around. “Oh, my goodness, Dave. You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
She pressed a hand against her chest before glancing at the clock. “What are you doing here this early?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I have things to do.” Beth lifted the clipboard as proof.
Dave looked around the room. “What things?”
“I’m checking everything.”
“You’ve been checking everything for months,” he told her. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
Beth hesitated just long enough to make him suspicious. “I had toast,” she told him.
“When was that?”
Beth frowned. “It isn’t important.”
“So, yesterday?”
A blush skimmed her cheeks. “This morning. And before you ask, I had coffee, too.”
Dave smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it.” He wandered toward the gallery, taking in the finished space. Every time he came into the building now, he remembered what it had looked like when they’d started.
The damaged plaster. The tired flooring. Rooms that hadn’t been properly used in years. And Beth, standing in the middle of it all, seeing possibilities where he’d mostly seen a great deal of work.
“Come over here, Beth,” he said softly.
Beth immediately frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Dave held out his hand. “For once, nothing is wrong.”
She walked toward him and slipped her hand into his.
“Look at the room,” Dave said.
Beth frowned. “I have been looking since I arrived.”
Dave pulled her close. “Stop thinking about your list for a minute and really look.”
For once, Beth became still. Morning light streamed through the windows, catching the glass in Owen’s display cases. The furniture was in place. The gallery wall was ready. And through the office doors, the fireplace Hank had restored looked as though it had always belonged there.
Dave felt Beth slowly relax beside him.
“Remember the first time we walked through here?” he asked.
A smile touched her face. “I remember wondering what I’d gotten myself into.”
“You hid it well.”
“I was terrified,” Beth whispered.
Dave glanced at her. “I know.”
Beth nudged him with her elbow. “You’re supposed to tell me you couldn’t tell.”
“I could definitely tell.”
Her laugh echoed through the empty room.
Dave slipped an arm around her shoulders. “But look what you did.”
Beth leaned against him. “What we did.”
He liked that correction. Especially after their disagreement about the money he’d spent. For Dave, buying better materials had seemed simple. The center needed them, he could afford them, so he’d paid the difference.
Beth had seen something he hadn’t. She’d been given the responsibility for the renovation. Every decision he’d made without telling her had made it harder for her to know what the project had genuinely cost.
“I spoke to Natalie again yesterday,” he said.
Beth looked up at him. “About the money?”
Dave nodded. “Everything’s sorted. The faucets, shelving, acoustic battens, hardware and the other upgrades. She’s recorded the full amount I spent as a donation.”
“Everything?”
“Every last dollar.” Natalie had gone through the invoices with him, adding his contribution to the project records. The accounts now showed the true cost of the renovation, rather than only the amount the council had paid. It had taken a lot longer than Dave thought it should.
He’d decided not to mention that to Beth.
“And if you decide to donate something else?” she asked.
Dave knew there was only one correct answer. “I talk to you first.”
Her expression softened. “Thank you. I never wanted you to think I wasn’t grateful. What you did was incredibly generous.”
Dave nodded. “I know that now.”
“I just need you to tell me what you’re doing.” Beth rested her hand against his chest. “Especially when it affects something we’re working on together.”
Dave held her close. “I’ll remember,” he promised.
When Beth lifted her head, her peaceful expression told Dave their disagreement was behind them.
After a moment, she looked around the center. “It’s good to see everything in its place. We even found a great location for the moose.”
“And the building doesn’t smell like a sewer,” Dave added.
Beth sighed dramatically. “Possibly our greatest achievement.”
Dave laughed, and for the next few minutes, neither of them moved.
Soon, Beth’s friends would arrive. Natalie and her husband, Gabe, wouldn’t be far behind. The musicians would set up, volunteers would take their places, and families would begin gathering outside.
The quiet wouldn’t last. In a few hours, there would be people everywhere and enough activity to keep Beth running from one end of the building to the other.
But for now, the center was quiet, everything was finished, and everything was ready.
And for the first time since they’d begun the renovation, Dave could stand beside Beth without thinking about the next problem he needed to solve.
There wasn’t one.
All they had to do was open the doors.