Page 86 of Tattered and Torn

Epilogue

Gabrielle

At four-thirty, I put the last of the decorations on the dining room tables—fresh-cut flowers in crystal vases. Everything’s ready for our grand re-opening event. The doors open in just half-an-hour.

The new menus are ready at the host’s podium. The floor is freshly mopped and polished. The staff are all here—including all the new hires who’ve been with us for over a week now. Everyone looks so sharp in their black trousers, white dress shirts, and black ties.

“Relax, honey,” John says as he massages my shoulders. “Everything’s perfect.”

Tonight, we’ve set up a buffet table of hot hors d’oeuvres, a champagne fountain, and a dessert table. And of course guests are welcome to sit and order from the new menu. We have six entrees on offer tonight.

I turn at the sound of voices coming from the entrance. Killian and Hannah are here, all dressed up for the event. They’re joined by Hannah’s parents, Calum and Bridget McIntyre, from Chicago.

“Hello, Gabrielle,” Bridget says as she comes to hug me. She’s a petite strawberry-blonde with blue eyes. “Everything looks so nice, sweetie. Congratulations!”

She looks at John. “You look very handsome this evening, sir.”

Bridget is right, of course. John looks dashingly handsome in a black suit and tie. No hat, no glove. He stopped hiding himself shortly after we first got together.

Calum McIntyre joins us. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his brown hair threaded with gray. He shakes John’s hand, then gives me a hug. “Congratulations, Gabrielle.” Calum peers over at the hors d’oeuvre buffet. “Can we sample the goodies?”

Bridget playfully smacks her husband’s arm. “You’re always hungry.”

I laugh. “Help yourself, Mr. McIntyre.”

Killian and Hannah join us. He’s wearing a black suit and tie, and Hannah is wearing the new staff uniform.

Hannah grins at me. “Ready for the big night? I sure am. There are already a ton of cars out in the parking lot. It looks like half of Bryce is here for the opening.”

There’s more commotion at the entrance. In walks Shane McIntyre, my dear friend Beth, his wife, and their two young kids. Shane, who looks so much like his dad, is holding Luke, and Beth is pushing Ava in a stroller. Luke takes after his mother, in that he has pale blond hair and blue eyes. Ava, on the other hand, takes after her daddy, with her brown hair.

At the pitter patter of little feet, we turn to see Luke McIntyre running toward us.

“Gabby!” he cries as he runs to me, his little arms outstretched.

When I scoop him up, he presses his hand to my cheek. “Hi, Luke! How are you?”

“Gabby?” John asks, chuckling.

I shrug. “He can’t say Gabrielle yet.”

Luke then turns his attention to John, and he stares curiously at John’s face.

“Luke, this is my special friend, John,” I say.

“Hey, little guy,” John says, reaching out to squeeze Luke’s sneaker.

Luke surprises us both when he reaches for John.

“He wants me to hold him?” John asks, sounding more than a bit surprised. He takes the little boy into his arms. “I don’t know anything about kids,” he says to me.

“It’s okay. Just don’t drop him.”

Luke stares hard at John’s face. Then he reaches out and cups his left cheek. “Owie?”

John smiles. “Yeah, I have an owie.”

Luke frowns. “Hurt?”

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