Owen groaned. Trust Daniella to tell his parents he was moving out of their home. Even when you were thirty-six, little sisters could still be annoying.
The following day,Harper stood in Owen’s studio listening to the lively discussions going on around her. The room was full of familiar faces from Sapphire Bay and visitors who’d heard about the exhibition.
To everyone’s delight, Theo had interviewed Owen in the studio while he was on the air. As Mabel flitted around the room, asking people to be quiet, it felt like they were on a movie set. Once it was over, everyone clapped and cheered, and Owen visibly relaxed.
Harper was hesitant when a woman asked her some questions about a bowl. She answered as best she could, hoping her description of how it had been made was correct. Something she said must have made sense to the woman. With a grateful smile, the woman carried the bowl and a matching paperweight across to Daniella at the sales counter.
Owen would be thrilled with how well the day was going. She was proud of the extra hours he’d spent in his studio preparing for today. But prouder of his determination to push past his reluctance to be here and give everyone a day they wouldn’t forget.
In between helping people, she looked across the studio at Daniella. She was handling the sales counter with the ease of someone used to the chaos of retail. Every now and then, she’d shoot Harper a glance that said, “Can you believe this?”
Before she had a chance to rearrange the bowls on the display table, a man and woman asked Harper about the glassblowing process. They seemed genuinely fascinated by what she told them. “Owen puts everything into these pieces. It’s not just about blowing glass; it’s about timing, temperature, and a lot of creativity,” she said, pointing to a multi-colored bowl sparkling under the studio’s lights. “Each piece tells its own story.”
The couple nodded appreciatively and took a closer look at the bowls on the table, murmuring to each other. After they’d chosen something to take home with them, Harper took them across to the sales counter.
On her way there, she spotted Owen in the middle of a group, talking about the process behind one of his more complicated pieces. Harper felt a rush of affection as he explained how he’d shaped the vase and added the deep blue swirls through the glass.
His parents were also hard at work. As well as restocking the tables, they were telling everyone about Owen’s early experiments with glass, adding a personal touch to the exhibition.
While she was helping Daniella wrap people’s purchases, Harper kept an eye on the time. Owen wanted to close the exhibition at four o’clock and it wasn’t far from that now.
When Daniella finished serving a customer, Harper handed her a bottle of water. “How do you feel?”
“Exhausted. I can’t believe how many people have come to the exhibition.”
Harper waved goodbye to a lady she’d helped a few minutes ago. “Neither can I. There were lots of people here that I’ve never met before.”
“And most of them bought something.” Daniella took a sip of water and looked across the room at her brother, who was packing away some of the pieces that hadn’t sold. “Owen will need to sleep for a week after this.”
“If he wants to move into the cottage, he won’t get the chance,” Harper told her with a smile.
While Daniella served another customer, Harper walked across to Owen. “You did it,” she whispered.
He turned and wrapped his arm around her. “Wedid it,” he corrected softly. “I couldn’t have done this without you or my family.”
The sincerity in his voice touched her deeply. “I’m just happy to be a part of today. It was wonderful seeing so many people in the studio. Did you talk to Granddad when he came in with Allan Terry?”
“I did. He told me how much he enjoyed seeing everything. I’m glad he’s feeling better and wanted to be part of today. His support means a lot.”
“Excuse me,” a woman said from beside them. “Can I ask you a question about these paperweights?”
Owen smiled, and Harper left him to answer the woman’s questions. Gradually, the crowd inside the room thinned out.
When the last person left, Owen’s mom hurried to the front of the studio. “Does anyone mind if I lock the door? If we leave it open, someone will come inside.”
Harper glanced at Owen. They’d already had half a dozen people come in after everyone else had left.
“Go ahead and lock the door, Mom,” Owen told her. “Otherwise, we’ll never get home.”
With a flourish, she turned the deadbolt. “That’s what you get for being so talented.”
Daniella groaned. “Harrison might have to give me the biggest foot rub ever. My feet are killing me.”
Owen’s mom raised her eyebrows in her husband’s direction.
“I had a feeling you’d think that was a good idea,” George murmured.
Harper laughed at his expression. As they tidied up the studio, it felt like a different place—less a showcase of Owen’s talent and more a testament to their collective efforts. And a celebration of everything that was good in the world.
