Stepping away from Katie, Mabel wiped her eyes and pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since you were eight years old and told me you wanted to write a book.”
The sound of good-natured chuckles filled the room.
With a wobbly smile, Mabel continued. “Your dad and I always knew you were special. Even when you were a little girl you had the most inquisitive nature of any of your sisters. You asked so many questions and spent hours day-dreaming about the answers. You’ve worked so hard for this. Through high school and college, waitressing and cleaning jobs, you’ve kept writing, kept pushing for your books to be published. And now that they are, we couldn’t be prouder. Instead of letting someone else do the process for you, you’ve found your own way of achieving your goals and that takes more courage and commitment than anyone can imagine. So, on behalf of everyone who’s here, I want to say a big congratulations to you. And just so you know, we’re looking forward to book seven, so don’t take too long to finish it.”
Lots of smiles and hand-clapping followed Mabel’s speech.
“Don’t forget the cake,” Penny said from behind her mom.
“I knew there was something else we had to do,” Mabel murmured. Turning Katie around, she showed her the cake Megan had made.
It didn’t take long to see the delight on Katie’s face. “It’s amazing, but it’s too lovely to cut.”
Allan stood beside his daughter and handed her a knife. “Don’t worry. I’ve taken lots of photos. All I need is one of you cutting the cake for the community Facebook page.” He smiled at the embarrassed look in her eyes. “Your mom insisted.”
With a soft sigh, Katie held the knife against the cake and smiled at her dad. After another round of applause, everyone moved toward her, wanting to give Katie a hug and offer her their own congratulations.
Peter moved to the side of the room. Despite Katie’s surprise, she seemed much happier now that everyone was talking and enjoying each other’s company.
He watched the children from Katie’s writing group crowd around the table, looking at her books with their parents. He smiled when a little girl left the table to wiggle through the adult legs to give Katie a hug.
“That’s Adele. She lives at The Welcome Center with her mom.”
Peter turned to Pastor John and took the piece of cake he handed to him. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t want you to miss out. Adele talks non-stop about what they do in the writing group. Even though she’s only five, she loves being around Katie and the other children.”
Peter was surprised she was able to be part of the group. “Does she write her own stories?”
“She tells her mom her stories and she writes them for her. After they’ve done that, Adele draws all the pictures and places them in the text. Have you seen the books Katie printed for her group?”
“She said she was doing something special for the children, but I didn’t know what it was.”
“That sounds like Katie. She does a lot of things no one knows about.” John pointed to an older boy clutching a book. “That’s Andy. He’s twelve. You might have met his mom, Andrea. She works at The Welcome Center. Anyway, Andy entered a writing competition and won. Without Katie’s encouragement, I don’t think he would have entered anything. If you get a moment, take a look at his book. Katie showed me the photocopied version a few days ago and it’s incredible.”
Peter finished the piece of cake John had given him. “They’ll miss Katie when she goes back to Los Angeles.”
“They won’t be the only ones.”
Shelley, John’s wife, joined them. “What a wonderful way to celebrate Katie’s books. She’s glowing from all the compliments and, to make it even better, we’ve sold most of the books we brought to the launch.”
Peter studied the happy faces around him and felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Katie was enjoying herself and her family and friends were showing her how proud they were of what she’d accomplished. If that didn’t give her confidence a boost and make her feel as valued as her sisters, he didn’t know what would.
* * *
An hour later,Katie picked up what was left of the cake and carried it into the kitchen. Tonight had been both wonderful and terrifying. With so many people looking at her books, she was sure someone would say they didn’t like them. But the only complaint was that none of the copies were signed. After twenty minutes of adding her signature to the front pages, she’d finally finished the last book.
Peter looked up from the dishwasher. “How’s your hand?”
She flexed the fingers and winced. “Cramping. I’m not used to being famous.”
He grinned and took the knife off the cake board. “You’d better get used to it. Before you know it, David Walliams will be inviting you on his podcast to talk about children’s literature.”
“I didn’t know he had one.”
“Research,” he whispered as he leaned toward her. “It opens the door to opportunities you never thought were possible.”
“Is that what you tell your staff before they start a new project?”
