If I Didn't Know Better (The Callaways #9)(42)

"I'm only here for a few weeks, so there's no time for matchmaking."

"It doesn't always take long," Kara said. "But let's open the wine and sit down."

"Already open," Charlotte said, pouring three glasses.

"You're not drinking?" Lauren asked as Charlotte passed the glasses to everyone else.

Charlotte smiled. "Not anymore. It wouldn't be good for the baby."

"What?" Lauren squealed.

"Are you serious?" Kara asked in shock.

Mia stepped back as Lauren and Kara took turns embracing Charlotte.

"I couldn't keep the secret any longer," Charlotte said. "I just passed the twelve-week mark, so things are looking good."

"I'm so glad," Kara said. "This is great. I cannot wait for my girls to have a little playmate."

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Lauren asked.

"I'm not saying," Charlotte replied. "Joe isn't sure he wants to know."

"But you know," Kara said.

"I do. Okay, it's a girl."

Mia laughed as Kara and Lauren squealed again. "Congratulations," she said.

"Thank you. I wasn't going to say anything, and we do not have to talk about this anymore. Tonight is about you."

"Please, it's fine," she said. "A baby on the way is always something to celebrate."

Charlotte nodded, her eyes beaming with happiness. "I wasn't sure it would happen for me. I had a bad miscarriage years ago when I was a teenager, and it scarred me both physically and emotionally, but sometimes miracles happen."

"Especially in this place," Kara said with a laugh. "The angels are always listening." She paused as a group of women entered the room. "We'll talk about this later, Charlie."

"I'm not worried," Charlotte said. "Take Mia and introduce her to everyone. Lauren and I will host the bar."

For the next twenty minutes, Mia felt like she was in a receiving line. Her mind spun with introduction after introduction and she was truly touched by all the wonderful things that were said about her aunt. Carly had truly made a home for herself in Angel's Bay, a place where she was greatly loved by all.

Around seven thirty, Kara decided it was time to start the coloring book party. She asked Mia to explain what they were going to be doing.

"When I started going through my aunt's studio," Mia said, "I stumbled across an envelope of sketches that my aunt was putting together to compile a coloring book for adults, or several coloring books. The patterns are beautiful. There are jeweled peacocks and intricate wheels, wave patterns and ocean scenes, and lots of others. Kara thought it would be fun if I brought copies of the sketches, and we all colored."

"I have markers, colored pencils, and crayons," Kara added. "They're all on the tables. So let's gather round and try our hand at something other than quilting."

Mia sat down at the table next to Kara, her mother, and several other friends while Charlotte and Lauren each took one of the other tables. She could see how hard they were trying to make this a special night for her, and she was rather amazed by their efforts. She was a stranger to them, but they'd already made her feel like a friend.

With the wine flowing and the colored markers sliding across many a page, conversation also picked up. Mia found out a lot of gossip about people she didn't know and heard many more stories about her aunt and a certain gentleman in Angel's Bay, a doctor at the clinic, who had been quite distraught by Carly's death. She could only imagine how many other broken hearts her aunt had left behind.

As she watched the women at her table color in Carly's art sketches, she felt very close to her aunt, and she really hoped that Carly was an angel, that she was watching and smiling and appreciating that she'd left something behind for everyone to enjoy. This was what art was supposed to be, a way to creatively express emotions and thoughts and even burn off some stress at the same time. There was something quite cathartic about coloring between the intricate lines.

She would turn these patterns into books the way Carly had wanted, Mia promised herself. Then women the world over could enjoy them as well.

"I'm going to get more wine from the back room," Kara told her.

"Do you want me to help you?"

"It's not a two-person job, I'll be right back."

As Kara got up, another woman slid into her chair. She appeared to be in her forties with short, curly brown hair that was tinged with gray at the temples and dark eyes.

"I'm Rita Phelps," she said. "I'm an artist. I spent two weeks in your aunt's studio last summer. It was an amazing time for me."

"That's wonderful."

"Yes, I was able to free myself from the creative block I'd been struggling with. I was having a career and a personal crisis, having just gone through a bitter divorce. I really think I was emotionally frozen, but your aunt and the loan of her beautiful cottage changed everything for me."

"I'm so glad. Did you leave a painting with my aunt when your stay was over?"

"Yes, it was one of my best paintings I'd ever done. I didn't want to leave your aunt anything but my best."

"I spoke to the Eckhart Gallery earlier today, and I'm thinking of putting together an exhibition of the paintings that were left to my aunt. Would you be all right with me showing your work?"