Page 79 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

She waves me off. “In a village outside Odzala-Kokoua Park in the Congo, when Seth moaned and whined so loud the neighbors came running with protective charms and spears, ready to save him from whatever spirits were taking hold.”

More laughter erupts around the table.

“I was delirious,” I announce loudly. “I’m sensitive. I feel things more deeply than all of you.”

“You? Deeply?” Gramps says incredulously. “You’ve been Teflon since birth,” sparking a round of jokes.

As heckling rings out around us, I look at Ellie. Her sweet smile has me pulling her closer and saying, for her ears only, “Until you.”

I press a kiss to her smiling lips, shutting out the rest of the noise, until Noah yells, “Guess he finally found something that sticks!” and more laughter rings out.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Taylor

As a limousine carries us toward the gallery for Seth’s mother’s show, snow falls like glitter shaken from the sky, as if the city itself decided to dress up for Belinda’s big night. I’ve never been in a limo before, and I’ve secretly questioned the pretentiousness of them. But now I understand why Seth makes these arrangements for his family. It’s not the luxury he craves. It’s the closeness with the people he loves.

Belinda and Charles sit across from us, holding hands, as they chat with everyone and between themselves. It’s no wonder Seth is so openly affectionate with me. He grew up surrounded by love shown in ways that don’t rely solely on words but on shared glances, warm embraces, quiet support, and playful teasing. His family is steeped in it. Wells and Victory are heckling Sutton and Flynn, and Clay is whispering something to Pepper that’s making her blush. Noah and Becca are giving Clay a hard time, while Seth’s grandparents, Bradshaw and Lara, charm my father with tales of Alaska. My father has been so lively tonight, it’s like the Bradens breathed new energy into him, the same way Seth has done for me.

Seth squeezes my hand as we approach the gallery and leans in, whispering, “Is it bad that as much as I love my family, I wish I had you all to myself tonight?”

Something tender blooms in my chest. Before I can reply, he steals a kiss, and the limo slows, headlights sweeping over an enormous crowd lining the sidewalk.

“Looks like something’s happening next door,” Belinda says, leaning forward to get a glimpse.

Flashbulbs go off outside her window, and she leans back. “Goodness.”

Charles chuckles. “I think that something is you, honey.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says as the driver parks and gets out to open her door.

The driver is holding an umbrella for her to step beneath.

“Thank you,” my mother says. “But I like the snow. I don’t need an umbrella.”

I smile at that, because there’s nothing pretentious about this family. Everyone looks gorgeous, yet not one of them is dressed to the nines. There’s no doubt that tonight’s celebration has nothing to do with status and everything to do with honoring a woman whose life has revolved around her family, while giving back in her own creative way.

As his mother climbs out of the limo, cameras flash, the crowd presses forward, and reporters shout from behind a cordoned-off walkway in front of the gallery: “Mrs. Braden! Over here! Can we get your picture?” “This is your first gallery show. What inspired it?” “What would you like to say to your fans?”

Belinda blinks, startled but gracious. “Fans?” she asks as we all file out of the limousine. “Fans of what?”

“Fans of yours, Mom,” Seth says, his voice threaded with pride.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Belinda says with surprise. She recovers quickly, turning a warm smile on the reporters. “Mother Nature has gifted us a beautiful world, and the Wild Habitat Collective has always been near and dear to our hearts. The Collective funds research, education, and conservation to help keep the world’s ecosystems alive, and I hope my photographs tell the stories of a world worth saving.”

The crowd eats it up. Flashes go off in rapid succession as reporters pepper her with more questions. Beside her, Charles stands with a hand on her lower back, happy to give her the limelight, showing me exactly where his son learned that quiet support.

Seth is watching his mother with so much love it’s palpable. He slides his arm around my waist and says, for my ears only, “Look at her shine.”

I can’t. I’m too busy watching you be happy for her.

Belinda thanks the reporters and moves to step aside, but Seth calls out, “Hawk, can you get a few shots of our whole family?”

Amid the flurry of photographers, a bearded man with light brown hair and multicolored glasses steps forward, giving Seth a confirmatory nod, and I get my first glance of renowned photographer Hawk Pennington.

Flashes pop as the Braden clan fans out across the sidewalk, laughing and joking as everyone tries to squeeze in. Clay tugs Pepper closer, Wells holds an umbrella up for Victory, which she swats away, just like her mother, and Sutton links arms with Flynn, while Noah jokes about needing a date. Belinda and Charles stand at the center, surrounded by the culmination of their love, the legacy they built together, and soon, by many of the lives they’ve touched.

I try to slip outside the group, but Seth tightens his grip, pulling me closer, and says, “Smile, sweetheart. We’re about to let the world know you’re taken.”