The Restoration of Celia Fairchild - Marie Bostwick Page 0,123

out, one way or another. For the moment, we were fine.

The only thing Peaches didn’t have yet was a blanket knitted by her mother. Between helping Polly get settled into the attic apartment, taking Calvin sightseeing around Charleston, and preparing for the baby shower, there hadn’t been much time for knitting. But Peaches wasn’t due for a month. I’d get it done in time to bring her home from the hospital in her new, mom-made blanket.

Trey was late, so I supposed the doorbell was announcing his arrival. But I opened the door and found Anne Dowling. “Anne! You came after all!” I threw my arms out and gave her a squeeze. “I thought you were at some legal conference.”

“I was,” she said. “But after sitting through a five-hour work session to write questions for the next bar exam, I remembered hanging out in a conference room with a bunch of lawyers is the opposite of fun and hopped a plane to Charleston. Hope you don’t mind that I’m late. I come bearing gifts, just in case.” She thrust a gift-wrapped box into my hands. “It’s a silver baby cup. You can engrave it later, after you pick a name.”

“Oh, Anne. How sweet. Thank you.”

“You know I was rooting for you from day one, don’t you?” I had suspected this but it was nice to know for sure. “You’re going to be terrific mom, Celia. Becca made the right choice.”

“How’s she doing?”

The closer we got the due date, the more I found myself thinking about Becca. What was she feeling right now? I was sure she was ready to get on with her life and studies, but this had to be an emotional time. I’d picked up a pen to write a couple of times but after thank you, thank you, thank you, what was there to say? For once in my life, I couldn’t summon the right words. Hopefully I’d be able to see her after the birth. If I could see her face, I felt sure the words would come.

“I haven’t talked to Becca lately,” Anne said, “but her mom texted to say they’d bought her a condo just off campus. Sounds like, I guess, everything’s on track for her to start classes in January.”

“I’m glad. How about some champagne? You’re just in time for karaoke.”

Anne gave her head a solemn and very lawyerly sort of shake. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I do not sing. Not under any circumstances. But if there’s any food left . . .” She sniffed the air, looking hungry and hopeful.

“Tons. I highly recommend the crab and Gruyère frittata. Come on,” I said, as I began escorting Anne to the dining room, “let’s get you a plate.”

The doorbell rang again. From where I stood, the only thing I could see through the beveled glass was an arm and shoulder, but I’d have recognized that shoulder anywhere. “Anne, could you excuse me for just a minute?”

“No worries. I’ll just follow the smell of bacon.”

Anne headed to the dining room and I opened the door.

“Hey! I was starting to worry that something had happened. It wouldn’t have been a party without you,” I said sincerely.

It wasn’t that Trey was exactly a party animal; I couldn’t imagine any amount of champagne that would have convinced him to pick up the karaoke mic. But none of this would be happening without him, so he had to come. Trey’s arrival felt like a cherry on the cake of an already perfect day.

“Is Lorne here?”

“Sure. Everybody’s here.” I frowned. The expression on Trey’s face made me feel like the cake might be about to fall. “What’s wrong?”

A fresh round of whooping and applause floated out of the living room. I heard the tinkle of a piano and the twang of a banjo and knew what was coming next. After two months of working with Lorne, I knew the opening bars to every single Rascal Flatts song. Lorne launched into “My Wish,” sounding eerily like Gary LeVox.

Trey pushed past me and set off toward the living room, jaw set and eyes front, stride so long and pace so brisk that I couldn’t keep up. I got there just in time to see him grab Lorne by the collar and swing back his arm like a pitcher winding up for a fastball.

There was a dull crack as Trey’s fist connected with Lorne’s jaw, followed by gasps and squeals. People jumped out of chairs and scrambled to get out of the