Dragonflies at Night: More Than a Love Story

By Anne Marie Bennett

*** Reader's Favorite Book Awards Honorable Mention in Women's Fiction 2021 ***
 

Proof that a mother's love is with us through it all...
 

For lovers of meaningful contemporary romance with a dash of spirit. This novel conveys an important and uplifting message of positivity and hope. ~ Sublime Book Reviews
 

Meet Savannah, the thirty-something owner of Life Celebrations, a party planning business. Despite losing both parents as a teenager, Savannah is creating a positive life for herself, surrounded by friends and co-workers who are now her family. But she also has a secret—as much as she wants to settle down and have children, she is afraid of getting sick too, and having to leave them without their mother, as she herself was left behind years ago.
 

Her mother is Deirdre Rose. She continues to watch over Savannah, who feels deeply connected to her mother whenever a dragonfly crosses her path.
 

Now meet Ben, a good-looking, talented recording artist who is already a household name. Yeah, he's famous, but he's also painfully lonely. He trusts few people because it seems everyone wants something from him instead of getting to know who he really is.
 

As fate would have it, Savannah and Ben cross paths at a yoga retreat in the Massachusetts Berkshires.
 

They are drawn to each other's creativity and outlook on life.
 

She sees beyond his celebrity and he admires her strength in what she's had to overcome.
 

What happens when the retreat ends and they're forced to go their separate ways? Will they be able to make a long distance relationship work?
 

Can Savannah put aside her fears, and will Ben allow himself to be truly vulnerable?
 

Above all . . . what message do Deirdre Rose and Dragonfly have for both of them?
 

Heartwarming, feel-good fiction at its finest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KaleidoSoul Media
• Release date: Sep 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9798986050324

Anne Marie Bennett

Anne Marie Bennett has been writing stories and novels since the sixth grade when she was assigned to write a short story and instead turned in a forty-page handwritten novel. Fast forward fifty years and she’s still writing! She is the author of multiple essays, works of nonfiction and fiction including Feathers in the Sand, the first in the Seahaven Sunrise series. Her previous novel, Dragonflies at Night, is the winner of the Pencraft Award for Literary Excellence and the Reader's Favorite Book Awards Honorable Mention in Women's Fiction 2021.   When she’s not writing, Anne Marie is the owner of KaleidoSoul.com and dedicates her time to guiding people in the intuitive process of SoulCollage® via online workshops and in-person retreats. She lives in eastern Massachusetts with her big-hearted, silver-haired, number-oriented husband, one beloved adolescent feline, and a treasury of birds, squirrels and chipmunks who keep them hopping. Connect with her on Facebook (annemariebennettauthor) and Instagram (annemariebennett520) or at annemariebennett.com

Book preview

Prelude

Her mother’s voice echoes through the years:

You will have such a splendid life.

These words, a gift to a young girl left alone.

Her Splendid Life

Ben Shepherd, 2016

from the album Savannah Smiles

Deirdre Rose

I never thought my life would end at the age of forty-four.

And yet, here I am, dying in the bed I’ve shared with my husband for twenty years. The nice people of hospice wanted to put a hospital bed in here, but I wanted this one. Ours. So familiar. Not some strange contraption that so many others have lain in while dying.

I am dying from a very aggressive form of breast cancer. Leaving behind my husband John. Leaving behind our daughter Savannah, who is only fifteen years old. So very young to be losing her mother. My heart almost cannot bear the weight of leaving her, even though I know that she and John will take good care of each other.

My big sister Camille died when she was twenty. She had cancer too. Leukemia. By the time Mama realized something was wrong, it was far too late even for chemo. There was no time to fight.

Me? I’ve had a year to fight. And believe me, we’ve tried everything. Absolutely everything. First, the double mastectomy. Then chemo of course. Radiation continued to sap the ever-living life out of me. Unconventional treatments for cancer? Seven. I’ve seen acupuncturists, homoeopathists, naturopaths, and even a medical intuitive who actually told me that the cancer was too far advanced for physical healing. I had imagined someone in that profession might soften the blow a bit or hold out some kind of hope to someone so desperate. But, no. Her name was Genevieve, and she gave only the truth.

One good thing did come of my time with her: she helped me to redefine healing. Physical healing is not possible for you, Deirdre Rose, she said kindly with her thick, unidentifiable European accent. But healing is not always about the body. We had quite a long discussion about this. I finally saw that what needed healing most in my life was the separation between me and my other big sister Suzanna, who had not been around during the three months it took Camille to die. Nor was Suzanna at Camille’s funeral. She was touring with the National Orchestra in Europe as their featured cellist, and could not get away. I had always resented her for leaving me alone with our sister. We had all been close when we were younger, so I felt that separation keenly. After speaking with Genevieve, I reached out to Suzanna and we gladly made peace.

So, yes, Genevieve gave me the truth about my disease, and I have come to accept it.

Accepting it doesn’t mean liking it, though. I figured that out pretty quickly. It’s one thing to accept that one’s own death is right around the proverbial corner, and another thing altogether to make friends with it. So I’m not making friends with death. Not just yet. I still have some things to say. To my daughter, Savannah.

My sister Camille was so young. I didn’t know then, like I do now, that cancer can be inherited. Perhaps the cancer gene was passed down to me from Mama or Daddy, but they didn’t die from cancer. Or maybe it was from someone in my family farther back. I don’t know where my cancer came from. I only know that Camille had it, and now so do I.

Savannah. What about Savannah? What if I have passed it on to her? This is my greatest fear.

I was only sixteen when I watched my sister die, so painfully. Her death changed me irrevocably. I’ve lived my whole life since then, not in fear of dying, but in celebration of this life we are given, however long, however short. John and Savannah used to tease me about my celebrate-life attitude, but I learned very young that you never know what’s going to happen next, and it’s important—no, it’s absolutely crucial—to enjoy every single moment.

Which brings me here. Forty-four years old. Lying in our big comfy bed. This beautiful bedroom decorated with subtle earth tones, accented with the jewel-essence colors of jade and amethyst. Surrounded by the things that I love. The people I love, who love me in return.

I have to tell you; I don’t look the same. My wavy blond hair fell out with the final round of chemo two months ago and has only begun to grow back. Just last week, Suzanna brought me some pretty cotton turbans. I’m wearing my favorite one now, the bright turquoise one that makes my eyes look bluer, or so John says.

The pain is mostly muted these days. Modern medicine has come a long way since Camille died. If you peeked in on me right now, you wouldn’t know that I was preparing to die. These past few days I’ve been much groggier, but right now I’m thinking clearly, and there is something I need to say to Savannah. I have been watching her this past year and she has been taking this really hard. Of course she has. What fifteen-year-old can watch her mother die like this and not take it hard? She is also going to be irrevocably changed, perhaps even more than I have been.

My heart is aching so much more than my body right now. I tell you, leaving one’s child behind is considerably more painful than dealing with cancer. Leagues and oceans and entire universes more painful. I have to tell her . . . I have to find a way to tell her that everything is going to be okay.

Because, here in this semi-drugged, dreamlike state where I find myself most of the time, I am sensing and knowing an intense Love that is even greater than my love for John and Savannah put together. This Love swirls around me and flows through me until all I can do is surrender to its gentle power as it soothes and blesses and holds me. I try to explain what I’m experiencing to John, but it goes beyond words, and he just sits on the edge of the bed, holding my hand. It hurts me to see the tears in his loving eyes.

Right now, I am floating in this Love-filled state of mind, or state of grace, or wherever I land when the meds kick in. Here, I am in a place where I can see certain things very clearly. It’s like I’m sitting high on a cloud, looking down on life going on without me. One thing I can see is Savannah: she appears to be in her thirties, and she is glowing with happiness. Her brightness comes from her own spirit, but I can also see someone beside her. I cannot see their faces, only their shimmering auras. They are holding hands, these two, and together their glow is much brighter than their individual halos of light.

I feel undeniably thrilled to see Savannah like this, to know that she will be changed by my death, but that the transformation will remain a positive force in her life. I now know beyond a doubt that her grief will not ultimately consume her.

I will be able to turn the proverbial corner more easily because of this knowing.

I don’t see John as I’m looking down, or ahead, or wherever it is that I am looking, and this inspires in me a tiny pinprick of curiosity. Wherever he is, I am certain that this Love I am feeling right now will also be lifting and filling him. Such is the way of life; I am certain of this now more than ever.

But now . . . now I am coming back to our bedroom, back to the persistent pain that is always in the background taunting me, threatening to overcome my body, my inner strength. It is much easier to ignore this pain now that I have seen, really seen, from my higher perspective on that cloud, that Savannah is going to be okay.

John, I say, struggling to pull myself up against the stack of pillows resting near the headboard. Need. . . talk. . . Savannah. My throat is so dry, but I don’t want to take the time to ask for a glass of water.

Yes, sweetheart, she’s here. She’s right here, he replies.

Then I hear my curly-haired, thoughtful, brilliant daughter say, Mommy. I haven’t heard her call me this since she was ten years old. She says it so softly I almost don’t hear her, but my heart knows her sadness. I would give anything, anything, for her not to be going through this.

I reach out my hand and she takes it, holds it against her heart. I smile and close my eyes for a moment, basking in my family’s love for me, and at the same time allowing myself to sink irrevocably into the grasp of that larger Love . . . a Love which is filling my entire body and soul right now.

My eyes meet her amber ones, and I see that they are filled with tears. The very same tears that glitter in my own. John’s hands are on her shoulders, then he kisses me on the forehead and says he’ll be back soon.

Savannah and I sit in silence for a little while, or maybe it’s a long while. All sense of time seems to disappear as I drift again slowly on the soothing waves of Love towards that proverbial corner. I become fascinated with what seems like a hundred dragonflies hovering around the open bedroom window across from me. But it’s dark outside, and dragonflies hardly ever fly at night. I think that’s right. I’ve always had a passion for insects, particularly dragonflies, and I even considered becoming an entomologist at one time, but chose to follow my other passion, costume design, instead.

For many years, in my teens and even beyond that, even after I chose theatrical fashion over entomology, I practiced oding, which is the nickname for the scientific word for dragonfly watching. Oh, what a delight that was! John and Savannah didn’t share this passion of mine, so I often went alone, out by the water where dragonflies love to fly, mate, give birth, and die. Did you know that dragonflies have been around for over three hundred million years? They are the most ancient of insects, and I have always been drawn to that which is ancient, to that which lasts. I think perhaps my celebrate-life philosophy was also influenced by this practice of oding.

Dragonflies have a maximum lifespan of forty days (I’ll bet you didn’t know that, either!). The message I received from this was to appreciate every moment because life is short. Even if you live to be one hundred, I guarantee you will be telling me that it wasn’t long enough.

But . . . wait. I’m still watching those dragonflies in the dark hovering around the bedroom window. And now another fact is surfacing from my logy brain. Almost all cases of dragonflies observed at night are when they are flying towards some kind of light. In the world of insects, this would probably mean a fluorescent street light or a glowing porch light left on by its owner. In my world, such as it is right now, perhaps they are flying towards a different kind of Light— a bigger, wider, brighter Light. Perhaps they are leading me towards this other Light. I ponder this for a moment in my half-haze, smiling.

When my eyes find their way back to my daughter, I clasp her hand tighter. Vanny, I whisper hoarsely, using her little girl nickname that I haven’t used in years. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to have such a splendid life. I can see it from here. Trust me. Trust me. A splendid, splendid life.

I see a spark of hope in her eyes for just the shortest of moments. Then she begins to cry, the tears extinguishing her hope like the sudden rainfall that doused our beautiful luminarias last summer for John’s birthday party.

And so it ends. My final memory of Savannah is simply this: she and I rocking slowly together, her tears soaking my nightgown. Eventually, John comes back into the bedroom and the three of us hold one another. Then Savannah leaves and I turn my heart towards saying good-bye to John. It is imperative that I thank him for his love, for our love, for the life we’ve built together, and for the daughter we created from our love.

No, wait. That’s not my final memory. There is one more. When I actually turn that proverbial corner . . . When I finally let go of my last shallow breath: a single luminescent dragonfly waits to greet me, its iridescent wings sparkling as if in the light of a thousand splendid stars.

Part One

She mourns her loss: fathoms, oceans deep

Shadows of grief surround her

But she refuses to make it her friend.

And she shines, she survives,

She lives her splendid life.

She rises through the darkness

and still she shines so bright.

—Her Splendid Life

Ben Shepherd, 2016

from the album Savannah Smiles

Ten thousand hearts have come to listen

Ten thousand hearts have come to me

I’m touching ten thousand hearts with my song.

—Ten Thousand Hearts

Ben Shepherd, 2010

Ten Thousand Hearts, original Broadway cast recording

Chapter 1

The Party Planner

Savannah Adams quickly shut the back door of the brightly colored Life Celebrations van, balancing three shopping bags and one huge cake box in her hands. Andi! Can you get the balloons and tank? she called to her best friend and business partner as she stepped out of her gleaming silver Audi.

Got ’em! Andi was by Savannah’s side in a flash, reaching into the van’s still-open side door and grabbing the helium tank as well as three plastic bags of uninflated, brightly-colored balloons. Jeremy here yet?

He’s been here for an hour, setting up tables and the ceiling swag with Mr. Jenkins. Thank God! Now let’s make a run for it before it rains. Savannah squinted up at the low layer of threatening clouds. Good ol’ New England weather, she thought, blowing air through her mouth upward to lift some of the damp, blond curls from her forehead.

Have balloons, will travel, called Andi as they sprinted onto the Jenkins’ large front porch.

Very funny, girlfriend, Savannah replied, pressing the doorbell with her thumb and trying not to drop anything. I wish the weather wasn’t like this. The Jenkins have a beautiful backyard which would have been perfect for the bridal shower. We were going to have luminaria. Flaming torches too.

I know. Andi sighed, setting down the helium tank and lifting her long dark hair off her neck for a moment. But hey, their dining room and sun porch are just as lovely. Besides, they have central air and it’s sweltering today, so even if we could have it outside, it would be pretty uncomfortable.

You’re right, but still . . . Savannah was interrupted by the bride-to-be, a short, curvy redhead with bright green eyes and a healthy smattering of freckles. Hi Tam! Today’s the big day, she said cheerfully as Tam flung the door open wide and grabbed two of the shopping bags out of Savannah’s tightly clenched hands.

"Well, actually, the big day is a week from Saturday," Tam replied with a giggle, leading them through the foyer and living room to the back of the house where Jeremy was standing on a ladder, hanging large swags of brightly colored fabric from the central light fixture. He was short and broad, built like a football player, with a kind square face and India-ink black hair pulled back in a long ponytail.

Lookin’ good, Jer, Savannah called, releasing the remaining bags onto one of the long white folding tables. Summer and Winter said they’d be here any minute to help you with that.

Good thing, he responded, looking down at them and grinning. Glad you guys made it before the thunder and lightning did.

I’m not done yet, Savannah said, turning to leave. I’ve still got tons of stuff to bring in.

Want some help? asked Tam. She was bouncing on her toes with undeniable excitement. Even though she was twenty-four, sometimes she reminded Savannah of a ten-year-old, in a totally good way.

Sure! That’d be great, thanks. They dashed through the house again, Andi not far behind.

What about the rainbow-colored ice cubes? Summer asked a few hours later, winding her straight blonde hair into a top knot as she dropped into the chair next to Savannah, who was skimming over her multi-columned checklist.

Darn! I totally forgot to put them on the list. Savannah pushed her turquoise reading glasses back up between her eyebrows. Sorry, hon, I know that was your idea. Wait one sec and I’ll give you the keys to the van so you can go get them. I just want to make sure there’s nothing else that we need.

Um… Savannah? Tam was back. She’d been bouncing in and out all afternoon.

Savannah looked up at her client’s round, animated face. She wanted in the worst way to say What now? Really loudly. But she knew she couldn’t. The Jenkins’ were paying good money for this bridal shower, which was about to start in one hour—no, in exactly fifty-three minutes. Instead, she smiled and summoned her own enthusiasm, remembering how much fun it had been to plan this rainbow-themed shower. Tam was a girl after her own heart. Savannah loved rainbow colors too, almost as much as she loved dragonflies. Thinking of dragonflies, she smiled to herself and touched the simple silver dragonfly that hung around her neck. Just touching it seemed to calm and center her. What’s up, Tam?

I’m so sorry. I forgot that I invited some people from work. They just now texted me. So that’s . . . um . . . a few more people to add into the count.

How many more exactly? Savannah cleared her throat and glanced at Summer who grimaced slightly.

Just seven.

Savannah inhaled sharply, then closed her eyes for a second, not taking her fingers off of the silver dragonfly.

I’m sorry, you know. I just . . . there’s been so much going on with the wedding. Should I tell them not to come? I can totally do that.

Savannah looked up at Tam again and smiled a professional yet tender smile. When something like this happened, she always told herself to imagine herself in the client’s shoes. How must they be feeling? And most importantly, what was it that they wanted more than anything, and how could she give that to them? In the case of Tam and the Rainbow Bridal Shower, it was obvious that Tam wanted seven more people to come. The contract was for twenty-four guests so this would mean more than thirty people. She looked around the room for a minute, then moved her hand from the dragonfly to Tam’s freckled arm. No, no, of course not. We can definitely make room!

Tam’s worried brow smoothed out and she broke into an ecstatic grin. Oh my God, thank you so much! She clasped her hands together and laughed so boisterously that Jeremy hurried over to see what was going on.

Everything okay? he asked hesitantly, glancing from Tam to Savannah.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Tam literally danced her way out of the dining room, phone clutched in her hand.

Savannah looked up at Jeremy. There are seven more people coming.

He shook his head. Unbelievable! What on earth is she thinking? You know you’ll have to redo the contract. Should we talk about this with Paul and Marion first?

Too late, Savannah said brightly. I just told Tam that it’s okay. I’m sure her parents will understand that we have to up the fee because it means more food.

Andi came onto the sun porch just then, carrying a large tray of appetizers. More food? What’s up with that? She set the tray down on one of the long banquet tables in front of the expansive clear glass windows overlooking the back yard. Rain was now streaming down, and they could hear thunder growling in the distance.

Tam just added seven more people, Summer explained, tapping her fingers on the table, ignoring Andi’s surprised expression and dropped jaw. Savannah, do you want me to pick up more food when I get the colored ice cubes?

But there won’t be enough of the ice to make those rainbow drinks for thirty people, said Andi, plopping down next to Savannah and rubbing her forehead.

Not everyone is going to want a drink made up of rainbow-colored ice cubes and ginger ale, said Savannah reasonably. Besides, we can use the smaller plastic cups instead of the tall glass ones. Less ice in each cup. They’ll still look like sparkling rainbows. She smiled at Summer.

Okay, if you say so, said Andi cheerfully, standing and stretching. I’m going to bring out the rest of the appetizers now. Let me know if you need anything else.

Jeremy also stood, straightening his striped bow tie. We can’t make any more of the confetti shrimp salad, but I’ll bet you can pop over to Whole Foods right now and get enough turkey and tuna wraps for seven more people.

I’m on it, Summer said, holding out her hand for the van keys. Winter, come with me, she called to her twin sister —as dark as Summer was fair— who was setting up the last rainbow centerpiece on the other side of the room.

Savannah handed over her keys and a credit card, and the two young women ran out of the room together.

It’ll be fine, Jeremy reassured a somewhat dazed Savannah who remained sitting at the table.

I just realized we don’t have enough favors for thirty people. Or chairs, for that matter. We only brought twenty-six of everything. Two more than necessary: that’s the rule.

Right. Only this time it’s seven instead of two. The ‘just in case’ rule isn’t going to see us through tonight. But we’ll handle it, sweetie, we always do.

Savannah looked up at him and smiled gratefully. She took a breath. I’ll take Tam aside and let her know that five people will have to wait for their favors, that’s all. I’m sure her mom and a couple of neighbors won’t mind. I’ll make them up tonight after this is over and drop them off tomorrow on my way to the retreat center.

That’s right. You’re going away for a few days, aren’t you? About time you gave yourself a break.

Savannah nodded happily.

I’ll find Paul and have him bring in five chairs from their kitchen. The girls are getting more food. It’s all set. No worries.

She gave him a one-armed hug. Thank you.

Jeremy faced her, his hands up, palms facing out. What’s our motto?

No problem! they sang together, slapping their palms together and laughing lightly.

They look so happy, don’t they? Savannah said from the doorway, Andi at her side. They were sipping the last of the rainbow drinks, which reflected the bright light from the candles on all of the tables. Tam was still opening presents, squealing with delight at this and that, the piles of torn paper and ribbons growing larger by the second. Her fiancé, Eric, had just come in and was sitting on the floor beside her, oohing and ahhing appropriately every time a new gift appeared. They were both glowing with the love of family and friends that surrounded them, and their love for one another was beautifully apparent.

Sure, Andi replied, moving a little closer to Savannah so their shoulders were touching. They’re happy now, but who knows how long it’ll last? she whispered, crunching slowly on a bright blue ice cube.

That’s so pessimistic, Savannah whispered back. Why shouldn’t they be happy forever?

Because not many are, Andi stated emphatically, waving

the plastic cup towards Tam and Eric. And that’s the truth.

Savannah sighed. "Well, that may be your truth, but it’s

not mine."

Andi looked at her and Savannah knew immediately what she was thinking. I mean, with Martin and I . . . that was different. She shook her head. But my parents? They had a forever kind of love. That’s what I want.

Then you shall have it, my dear, Andi replied, leaning in and kissing Savannah’s cheek lightly.

And so shall you.

Andi shrugged and cleared her throat. I’m not holding my breath, that’s for sure. They watched Tam open her final gift, a flimsy black nightie which made her giggle and blush like a schoolgirl. Are you doing anything later? Want to go to O’Neill’s Pub with Haskell and me?

Savannah looked at her friend, surprised. Who the heck is Haskell?

This guy I met at O’Neill’s last weekend. Andi smiled slowly, and Savannah could tell from her darkening eyes that she was thinking of how marvelous Haskell had been in bed. She’d seen that look on Andi’s face more times than she cared to count.

Not another— Savannah caught herself. She really needed to stop reprimanding Andi as if she were a child. She was a full-grown woman of thirty-five just like herself. Sorry. She smiled gently and leaned into Andi for a moment before setting down her drink and running a hand through her chin-length curls. Just be careful, will you? Please?

Sure, I’m always careful. Andi-on-the-Alert, that’s me.

Savannah shook her head and they moved away from the doorway as people began to don their jackets and head towards their cars.

So, can you? asked Andi as they made their way to the food table where Jeremy and Winter were already stacking up empty trays to take to the kitchen.

Can I what? Savannah touched Winter’s shoulder and mouthed, Thank you.

Go with Haskell and me to O’Neill’s.

Savannah shook her head. "No can do. I’ve got to go back to the office and create a new invoice for the Jenkins’. Then I have to make five more of those favors."

That can wait, can’t it? Andi started clearing dishes and silverware from the table closest to the food. Savannah picked up the centerpiece. Her team had the clean-up procedure down to a science.

I’m leaving first thing in the morning for Kripalu, remember?

Oh right, your yoga retreat, that’s cool.

I haven’t been there since last fall and I’m really looking forward to it. Savannah lifted another centerpiece and moved them both to the food table, which was now empty. She then gathered up the white tablecloth, folding it carefully as she went.

Well, you deserve a few days away, that’s for sure, Andi replied, still collecting dirty dishes and cups, dropping them unceremoniously into a large gray rectangular tub. No one works as hard as you.

Except for me! exclaimed Jeremy. He bustled back onto the sun porch, wearing a long trench coat over his dapper outfit, and began stacking the bright green folding chairs.

Hey! I resent that! Savannah called from across the room, laughing.

"We all work hard, Andi agreed, surveying the room with her hands on her hips. She turned to Savannah. Well, you can go out with Haskell and me when you get back. She paused. When exactly are you getting back?"

Sunday night. Savannah paused too, watching Jeremy stacking chairs while Summer ran the vacuum and Winter stuffed all the trash into large recyclable garbage bags. But you’ll have moved on to someone else by then.

Andi grinned at her mischievously. You think?

Savannah shook her head. "I know. Then she clapped her hands. Gather ’round, everyone!"

It was time for their closing huddle as she liked to call it. Summer and Winter brushed their hands on their jeans at the exact same time and hurried over. Jeremy set down the stack of chairs and joined them too. The five of them stood in a small circle, arms around each other’s shoulders. Thank you, everyone, Savannah said, smiling around the circle at each of them. For another successful Life Celebration. We’ve given Tam and her family a day to remember, and I appreciate your hard work and creative problem solving. Anyone else?

"I love how you always find a way to give the clients what they want, Savannah. You’re so creative. My hero. Oops, I meant to say heroine." Jeremy smiled.

And Andi, that was wicked cool how you came up with clustering the balloons in the center around the light fixture and then hung those bright swags of cloth streaming outward. This ceiling will never be the same, said Winter solemnly but with a twinkle in her eye.

Summer and Winter, thank you for getting to and from Whole Foods lickety-split, said Andi. "That was a lifesaver, to have that extra food before the thirty-one guests got here."

They all laughed.

Jeremy, I appreciate how you didn’t panic when you heard there were seven extras coming, Savannah said. She looked around the circle. Seriously, I love you guys. This wouldn’t be the successful business it is today without you. She looked at each of them. And you. And you. And you. She squeezed Andi’s shoulder. And especially you, of course.

Of course! Andi replied, chuckling.

Have a good night everybody, Jeremy said, breaking from the circle and getting back to the chairs. And hey, Savannah, have a good time at that yoga place whose name I can never quite pronounce.

Thanks, Jer, Savannah said happily. I’ll see you guys on Monday morning bright and early. Everything’s all set for the Doherty 80th birthday and the Everhart baptism celebration this weekend, right?

You know it! Don’t worry about a thing, chorused Summer and Winter as they shrugged into their raingear and headed out the door with the trash bags.

Savannah paused for a moment, looking around her. These four were her family now, for all intents and purposes. Her parents were long gone; she had no siblings. Aunt Suzanna was in Cedar Ridge Convalescent Center and would not be coming home again. This was her life: her business, her two cats, her best friend and business partner Andi, along with Jeremy, Summer, and Winter.

She smiled to herself as she gathered her jacket and purse, then headed for the front door. Another successful Life Celebration in the bag, she thought, shaking hands with Paul and Marion Jenkins on the way out, then hugging Tam at the front door before running through the raindrops to the company van. Just a few more tasks tonight and she could pack for her four-day yoga getaway to the Berkshires in western Massachusetts. She touched her right forefinger to the silver dragonfly at her throat and smiled as she started the engine.

Chapter 2

The Musician

Ben Shepherd slowly opened his eyes, gazed blurrily at the alarm clock beside his bed for a moment, then sat up quickly and threw off the dark green sheet. Yawning, he picked up his phone on the way to the shower. Four hundred twenty-seven new tweets. Six voicemails. Eleven texts. Par for the course. And he’d only been asleep for six hours. He’d read them later. Definitely had to make sure his publicist, Ilene, checked the tweets. But, nah. She already knew to do that. If there was anything important, she would have called him already.

As he stepped into his spacious marble shower, the phone rang. Ben hopped out and answered it. It was Pete Michaels, the sound guy at the Palladium in downtown Los Angeles. Hey Pete, what’s up? Ben stood in front of the mirror, still a little bleary-eyed, not really noticing his reddish-brown wavy hair and green eyes, or his strong, lean body.

Ben, glad I caught you, Pete bellowed. Ben held the phone away from his ear. Due to his job, perhaps, Pete was a little hard of hearing. We’re setting up for you right now. How many amps do you want on stage tonight? And are you having a stand-alone mic as well as a Madonna headset? I know there’s a contract sheet here somewhere, but I can’t lay hands on it.

No problem. Call me anytime. Yes to the stand-alone mic as well as the headset. Five amps ought to do it. Probably should call my sound guy just to be sure. Is he there yet?

Haven’t seen him. Gotta go.

Thanks for getting it all set up.

"Hey, that’s my job. I set it