the Sweet Briar Ladies Society Sewing Circle.
At her library, no less.
But she did know better. The troops had simply assembled in a show of support for one of their own—support Melissa would have appreciated had she been aware of its presence.
Which she wasn’t.
Instead, their fellow circle member was running between the children’s room and the picnic tables outside, attending to every birthday party detail imaginable. Balloons were suspended in trees, streamers hung from branches canopying the party table, red tablecloths had been cut and attached at the seams to create a red carpet effect from the parking lot to the children’s room, makeshift spotlights were pointed at the tiny stage where children would act out their favorite stories, and Colby Calhoun’s video player was poised on its tripod in anticipation of the stellar performances Sally Davis’s party guests would undoubtedly give.
“Land sakes, that child is fixin’ to have a nervous breakdown,” Margaret Louise declared as she huffed and puffed her way through the back door of the library only to have Melissa turn midway down the hallway and head outside once again. “She’s here, she’s there, she’s all over the place. Heck, I think she’s even harder to keep up with than those seven grandbabies she and Jake have given me.”
“She’s stressed, that’s for sure, but I think she’s going to realize fairly soon that this is going to be one amazing little birthday party.” Tori peered into the children’s room, her excitement over the library addition she’d created rearing its head all over again. It didn’t matter that it had been in place for over a year, the newness still hadn’t worn off. Not for her, anyway.
She turned to Leona. “You sure you want to be here when the guests start arriving?”
“You might get chocolate or jelly smeared on that fancy schmancy suit of yours.” Rose pulled the flaps of her thin cotton sweater tighter against her body. “Chocolate can be tough to get out of silk.”
Leona drew back. “I’ll stay away from the cake.”
“Have you ever seen a five-year-old after they’ve eaten cake?” Dixie inquired as she looked around the children’s room, her gaze skimming the shelves that had been pushed to the side for the party.
“Why?” Leona roamed a questioning eye between Rose and Dixie. “What’s wrong with them?”
Rose snickered. “Perhaps we should simply let you wait and find out.”
“Isn’t that just like you, you old goat. Stir the pot and then run. Classic Rose Winters if I’ve ever heard it.” Leona sniffed, her off-white heels making a clicking sound on the tile floor as she spun around and headed toward the door, Rose’s gasp of indignation bringing an undeniable sparkle to her eye.
“Did you hear what that old biddy just called me?”
Tori shrugged innocently. “I’m not sure, Rose, I think I zoned out for a minute or two.”
“The heck you did.” Rose stamped her foot on the ground. “Why, I have a good mind to—”
Melissa breezed back inside, her cheeks red. “Has Debbie gotten here with the cake yet? The kids are going to be arriving in”—the woman’s face paled as she stole a glance at her wrist—“five minutes!” Grabbing hold of Tori’s left arm, Melissa began pumping it up and down. “They can’t come yet. I’m not ready.”
Tori slowed the movement of her arm by capturing Melissa’s hand with her right. “Melissa, relax. Everything is more than ready. The stage looks great. The costumes are hanging on the little portable rack Jake assembled. And the decorations you’ve made couldn’t be more perfect.” She bobbed her head to the left to capture Melissa’s worried eyes. “It’s going to be okay. Great, even.”
“But the cake . . .”
Margaret Louise strode across the room, her boisterous voice taking on a soothing quality. “You don’t want the cake here too soon. Otherwise it won’t be a surprise when it’s time for the kids to sit down.”
“But what if the design I gave Debbie didn’t work?”
“It’ll work,” Tori assured. “Debbie is amazing with her cakes, Melissa. You know that.”
Inhaling sharply, Melissa nodded. “I do. And you’re right . . . both of you. I need to relax. It’s just that I want everything to be perfect.”
“It is,” Tori, Margaret Louise, Rose, and Dixie said in unison.
Flopping into a nearby child-size chair, Melissa dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t want to disappoint Sally. Molly is a wonderful baby but she’s certainly claimed a lot of Sally’s mommy time.”
“Sally is fine. She loves that baby. And she loves you.” Margaret