The Mirror - Page 216

After Winter left, and all the pets sprawled out in a post-party coma, Sonya dropped into a chair in the parlor.

“It’s so quiet. I almost forgot what quiet’s like.”

“It’s going to get quieter. I’m taking Trey and working on the Sunfish.”

Cleo straightened in her own chair. “When can I see it?”

“A week. Ten days tops. Or next month if I don’t put some time into it.”

“Go away.”

Trey pulled Sonya from the chair. “Dinner tomorrow? Anywhere you want.”

“Right here. My social battery needs some serious recharging. Thank you. Both of you. It was a hell of a good party.”

“Maybe the next thing to a fais-dodo.”

Because that amused her, Cleo rose, walked to Owen, gave him a long, smoldering kiss. “My grand-mère throws the best fais-dodos in Louisiana. Now go build my boat.”

“Let’s go, Jones.”

“If you need me,” Trey began.

“I’ll call.”

When they left, Sonya dropped into the chair again. “It was a hell of a party. They did a lot to help make that happen.”

“They did. Job well done all around. Now I’ve got an urge to work. Studio work. What about you?”

“I’ve got some work I could get done. How about we do that, then cocktail time on the widow’s walk?”

“I’m there.” Cleo rose again. “We’ve got enough party food left over to have a nice smorgasbord. Dinner and a movie?”

“And I’m there. Cleo? I know it can’t last, but the house feels settled. Like everybody’s taking a nice long breath.”

“I feel that, too. So if we’ve got some of that quiet time, we’ll use it. See you around five.”

Sonya went up to her office. She sat, and smiled as she ran her fingers down the smooth sides of the obelisk. Maybe she didn’t put a lot of stock in such things, but it couldn’t hurt.

Plus, really pretty.

With Yoda curling under her desk, she booted up.

Work she’d put aside sprang right back. Maybe most wouldn’t look forward to a working Sunday afternoon, she decided. But it suited her.

She laughed when her tablet geared up with the Young Rascals and “Groovin’.”

“Yeah, that’s right. This is my idea of grooving on a Sunday afternoon.”

She laid a hand on the tablet.

“I’m glad you got to meet Dad’s parents, and you could see how much they loved him.”

She caught the scent—wildflowers blanketing a sun-washed meadow. Closing her eyes a moment, she breathed it in.

“It made you happy. I can feel that. You carried him, you gave him life. They gave him a life, a really good life. Then he built a really good life with Mom. And me. So I’m glad you got to meet them.”

Opening her eyes, she smiled. “And it was a seriously kick-ass party.”