Brett pulled back, his gaze slightly unfocused. “You’ll marry me?”
She took a shaky breath. “I’ll marry you. And Danny, too. Where is he?”
“He’s with Holly. He’s missed you so much, Jenna.”
“No more than I’ve missed him.” She held out her hand. “Come on, let’s pick up my kite so we can go back. I’m dying to see him.”
“Jenna!” Danny ran out onto the front porch as they pulled up. A satisfied smile tugged at his mouth as he observed Jenna and Brett holding hands.
“Did you kiss her?” he asked his father.
“Sure did.”
“Did she kiss you back?”
Jenna went down on her knees and opened her arms. “I certainly did. I’ve missed you so much, Danny.”
He buried his head in her neck. “Me too. Are you coming back?”
“Yes.” She hugged him again. “Your father and I are getting married.”
“You’re going to be my mother?”
“If that’s what you’d like.” She searched his face. “What do you think?”
“I think that would be excellent. I’ve been wishing for it every night.” He looked up at his father. “Can I have a tuxedo?”
Brett looked at Jenna, then back at Danny. “What for?”
“For the wedding. I’m going to be your best man, aren’t I?”
“Absolutely.” Brett turned to Jenna and rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you want to be part of this family?”
Danny giggled. “Don’t be silly, Daddy. She already is.” His dark eyes settled on Jenna. “Now I think we should ‘gotiate about the pancakes...”
Epilogue
“WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?” Looking handsome in a charcoal jacket and white open-necked shirt, Brett surveyed the glittering crowd at the opening night of the exhibition. Spotlights picked out the striking black and white photographs lining the walls of the Front Street Gallery, and he headed toward one that had been drawing a crowd since the doors opened.
“They’re a mixture of people.” Holly accompanied him, stopping every once in a while to thank someone for coming. “By the way, there are quite a few of your people here tonight.”
“My people?”
“Yes,” she said impatiently. “Hospital people. Jenna seems to be a favourite of theirs.”
The exhibit, Street People: The Invisibles had caused quite a stir when it was previewed last week on the local television station. The media was here in full force again tonight, and at the moment they surrounded Jenna, who was answering their questions with her usual unflappable calm.
“I see my wife is surrounded.” Jenna’s searching gaze found him at that moment; she acknowledged the love shining from his eyes with a slight inclination of her head. “Where is Danny?”
“He hasn’t left her side all night.” Holly went up on her toes. “We just can’t see him behind that crowd.”
Brett looked down at the young woman. “With all that’s happened, I haven’t had a chance to thank you for staying at the house. You’re sure you don’t mind living there alone?”
“Are you kidding? I’m loving it. Jenna’s worried that I’ll become too independent and never want to get married.”
Brett looked at her fondly. “You have a lot of time for that.”
Holly lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “We’ll see.”
“MRS. CARMICHAEL.” THE reporter from Monday Magazine raised a pencil. “Why did you choose black and white film for the exhibition?”
Jenna smiled at the softball question. “It’s my preferred medium, although there are always some subjects that just call out for colour.”
“The pictures are absolutely striking.” The reporter glanced around. “One of my colleagues was saying that you seem to have captured the soul of each individual. How did you manage to do that?”
“Certainly not alone.” Jenna rested a hand on Danny’s head. “My son is a budding photographer, but he has more than technical ability. Danny has that rare quality that sets some photographers apart. He learned who these people are; he connected with them.” She indicated a row of prints with a sweep of her hand. “None of these photographs would be nearly as compelling without him.” Danny’s hand slipped into hers.
“So your son deserves some of the credit?”
“What are you hoping to accomplish with this exhibition?”
“We want you to see the street people. That’s why the sub-title of the exhibit is The Invisibles. Most of us don’t even see them. Either that or we go out of our way to avoid them. This is our way of giving them a voice. That’s all.”
“A voice that’s sure to be heard. Thank you.”
JENNA KICKED OFF HER shoes at the back door and staggered into the living room. The formal furniture was long gone, replaced by soft, comfortable chairs grouped around the fireplace. “We did it,” she said to Danny, holding up her hand for a high five before collapsing into the closest chair. “You were great.”
“You, too, Mom. But I didn’t see your friend Jodi.”
“She couldn’t come. Neither could Stella, so I’m going to give them both a private tour next week.”
“That’s good.” Danny yawned and crawled into the oversized chair beside her. “Remember that first day, Mom? When you were homeless and I was running away?”
Brett set the tea tray on a side table.
“Yes.” Jenna smiled at the memory. “I remember everything about that day.”
“I’m glad we all found each other.” He looked up at his father. “Aren’t you, Dad?”
Brett looked down at the two people who made up his world. “Every day, Son. Every day.”
The End
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About the Author:
Mona Ingram is the author of more than four dozen romances. Many of her stories take place in British Columbia, where she has lived since the age of twelve. In recent years, she has lived in the Okanagan Valley and on Vancouver Island. In addition to reading and writing, traveling and bird watching are among Mona’s favorite pastimes.
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