Unforgettable (Cloverleigh Farms #5)(89)

It took a minute for the roughly two-hundred-fifty people in the room to quiet down, during which I scanned the crowd for familiar, supportive faces.

They were all here—my parents, seated next to one another, their joined hands resting on the table. Sylvia and Henry. Meg and Noah. Chloe and Oliver. Frannie, Mack, and the three girls, who giggled along with Sylvia’s two kids and Cecily Carswell over their plastic flutes of sparkling juice. It turned out that Cecily went to the same middle school as Sylvia’s daughter Whitney and Mack’s oldest, Millie. I’d asked Whitney if she could make sure Cecily was included since she might not know anyone else, and she’d said of course. I’d never felt more grateful for my family, who always stepped up when I needed them.

Robin Carswell, her mother, and Chip were seated with Tyler, Sadie, and Josh, who’d also been added to the guest list at my mother’s insistence. She’d hand-delivered the invitation herself, and insisted they attend. “You’re family now,” she told them all. “You have to come.”

When the room was nearly silent, I locked eyes with Tyler one more time. He was so gorgeous in his suit and tie, he took my breath away. His smile reassured me—I could do this.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you wondering which Sawyer sister I am, I’m April—the second one.”

Polite laughter echoed through the room.

“On behalf of my parents, my older sister Sylvia, and my younger sisters, Meg, Chloe, and Frannie, I want to welcome you and thank you for being here tonight to celebrate my father’s retirement, as well as the fortieth anniversary of Cloverleigh Farms. It means so much to all of us.” I paused for a breath, and saw my mom wiping her eyes. “As many of you know, my father was somewhat reluctant to retire.”

More laughter from the crowd, and I laughed too.

“But who could blame him? I might be biased, but I truly believe Cloverleigh Farms is the most beautiful place in the world. Like all of us Sawyer sisters, it has grown in so many ways over the years. It’s had its share of tough seasons—winter blizzards and bitter-cold frosts, too-wet springs and too-dry summers—but we have also seen hundreds of couples get married in the orchard, we’ve seen graduation parties and four-generation family reunions on our lawn, and we’ve even had a baby born at the inn, although it was not planned and my dad always said that’s the night his hair turned white.”

A murmur of amusement rippled through the room, and I paused a moment.

“But that’s what Cloverleigh Farms has always been about—family. Milestones. Growth. Love. Celebration. Memories. And you’re all a part of that.” I took another breath. “My parents have taught us that this is a place where family means more than just DNA. It means opening our doors and our hearts to strangers. It means showing up for our neighbors. It means reaching out when you know someone needs it. It means forgiveness, acceptance, compassion, joy . . .” I locked eyes with Tyler again. “And it’s that feeling you get when you know you’re home.”

“Hear, hear!” my father yelled, lifting his glass to me.

I smiled at him. “Dad, Mom, you’ve spent four decades making this place into something extraordinary, and tonight we honor your hard work and sacrifice, as well as your dedication to each other and to all of us.” I raised my glass and looked out at the room. “So please join me in a toast to John and Daphne Sawyer, in wishing happy birthday to Cloverleigh Farms, and in celebrating all the life and love yet to blossom for us all. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” shouted the crowd.

I took a sip of my wine, made from grapes grown on the hillside right outside, and tasted in its sweetness all the beauty of the past and the promise of the future. Then I made my way to the side of the stage, where Tyler was waiting to help me down, his expression full of pride and affection.

I took his hand and stepped down into his embrace.

Life was good.





Epilogue





“Your car broke down? Are you serious?” I checked the clock on my nightstand. It was barely seven a.m.

“Sorry, babe. I think it’s the battery. Must be shoddy.”

“The battery? Tyler, you drive a ridiculously expensive SUV. It has four-zone climate control. But the battery is shoddy?”

“Must be. Mind coming to rescue me? You’ve got jumper cables in your car.”

I put a hand on my forehead. “I do?”

“Yes. I put them in there.”

“When?”

“I don’t remember exactly. But they’re in there.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the mattress. “But it will be a little bit. I’m still in bed.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s my birthday, after all,” I grumped. “And a Saturday.”

“I know, I know. This is such bad timing.”

“I didn’t know you were going for a run this morning. I thought we were going to go get breakfast together.” I walked toward the huge master bathroom Tyler and I shared.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it, but I had trouble sleeping last night. I thought the workout would relax me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Immediately, I felt bad. “I didn’t know you’d had a tough night. It’s been a while.”