Page 80 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

My heart stumbles, and then he calls out over the commotion, “Frank! Becca! Get in here. You’re family, too.”

My father waves a hand. “We’re good right here.”

“Like heck we are,” Becca says, grabbing his arm and hauling him forward with a grin.

They squeeze in beside me. Becca slips her hand into mine as the cameras start flashing again and whispers through her smile, “You love this family already, don’t you?”

“Shh,” I say, smiling as flashes pop and snow drifts around us. “Don’t jinx it.”

Despite the snow blanketing the city, nearly two hours later there’s still standing room only in the gallery. Voices carry, glasses clink, and praise for Belinda’s gorgeous photographs is woven into every conversation as people move from room to room admiring amber sunrises with animals silhouetted in the desert, misted jungles steeped with wildlife, the shimmer of birds flying over distant shores, and dozens of other vivid sights.

Belinda has spent the evening hugging colleagues and friends, shaking hands with fellow wildlife enthusiasts, and smiling so bright she lights the room. Every few minutes someone stops her to tell her how her photographs moved them, and though most of the photographers have left, Hawk is still here, as Seth had requested, capturing candid shots for an album Seth and I are going to make for each of his family members. Becca and I overheard his mother asking a few people how they heard about the event. Luckily, nobody has given away her children’s secret.

“If I didn’t know better,” I say to Seth, “I’d think your mom has been doing this her whole life.”

“She’s unflappable,” Becca says.

“That’s because she has been doing it her whole life. Just not in galleries,” Seth says. “No matter where we lived, she made it a point to become part of the community. I think that’s how we all learned to get along with anyone, anywhere.”

“She looks like she’s on a mission right now.” Becca nods in Belinda’s direction as she hurries over to her friend Patsy, a vibrant woman who looks to be in her mid to late fifties, with shoulder-length auburn hair streaked with silver.

We met Patsy earlier, and I instantly liked her. She’s the kind of person who can organize a storm and make you thank her for the rain.

Belinda leans in with a mischievous expression and says something that has Patsy glancing across the room at our father.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Victory asks as she joins us with Sutton and Aubrey.

“Looks like matchmaking to me,” Aubrey says.

“Sure does,” Sutton says, and looks at me and Becca. “Your dad has that whole grumpy-hot thing going on.”

“You only think it’s hot because Flynn was so ornery when you first met him,” Seth says.

Sutton rolls her eyes. “Flynn’s still ornery, and he’s a whole different kind of hot.”

We watch Belinda and Patsy head over to my father. His entire face lights up, he stands taller, and what is that smile? He shifts closer to Patsy and says something that makes her and Belinda laugh. “Is he flirting?”

“Go, Dad,” Becca says.

“I’ve never seen Dad flirt before,” I say.

“I have,” Becca says. “Whenever we go to clubs, he chats up the ladies.”

“I don’t know if I should be happy or worried,” I admit.

Seth squeezes me against his side. “Be happy for him, sweets.”

“I meant worried for Patsy. You know how he is.”

“Patsy can hold her own,” Victory says. “She’s a New Yorker, and she’s the reason our mom never missed a deadline. She’s tougher than anyone in this room. Maybe even your dad.”

“Then this should be interesting,” I say.

“Your dad and my grandfather are cooking up a fishing trip in Alaska,” Seth says.

“Are you kidding?” I ask. “Can you imagine the trouble those two could get into?”

“It’ll be legendary, and don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll be right there to make sure he’s safe and doesn’t wear himself out.” He leans in for a kiss, and I revel in the fact that he knows I’d have to go, too.