Page 73 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

“What the hell is all this?” he asked.

“Seventy presents,” Natalie announced. “One for every year.”

“You better get busy, Pop, or we’ll be here until your seventy-first.”

He opened each gift as though it were priceless. Penny candy. Green plastic Army men. Bubble gum cigars. Puzzle books. A neon yellow whistle. Breath mints. A laser pointer. A stress ball. A deck of playing cards featuring images of 1960s Vegas showgirls. A mini Magic 8 Ball. A container of blue Play-Doh. A tiny bottle of Jack Daniel’s. It took Foster over an hour to unwrap all the tiny treasures. The floor around his chair became a sea of wrapping paper and ribbon. The smile never left his face.

"My goodness.” Foster stood, pulling the Old Fart boxers up over his suit pants. “You girls went all out, and this has been an absolutely magnificent night. Natalie, the table was incredible. The flowers. The crystal. Your mother's good china. The dining room never looked more beautiful. And Kate, you saw my plate. Not a crumb left. It was five stars. Five delicious stars."

"Well, the night's not over." Kate reached behind his chair. “This is your real gift.”

“The big bonus—one to grow on,” Natalie added.

"Nonsense. Being with the two of you is enough. I don't need all this fuss.”

"You’re worth every bit of it," Kate said.

"Tonight reminds me of that Valentine's Day dinner for your mother and me. Do you remember? Kate, you must have been about eleven. And you were a tiny thing, Natalie. No more than six. I'll never forget it. We got all dressed up. You girls set the table for us and even lit candles. It was wonderful."

"We made you dinner?" Natalie asked. "I don't remember that."

"I do, and it was delicious. Homemade Belgian waffles topped with sliced bananas and whipped cream," he said.

Kate nodded. "I remember."

"Took your mother days to clean up the mess. You girls dirtied every dish we owned. One of our most favorite memories of you two. You showed talent for detail even back then, Nat. An event planner in the making."

Natalie’s gaze flicked to the family portrait above the fireplace. The four of them, in matching shirts and jeans, standing on the edge of the creek. The girls, frozen in time as teens. Kate, wearing too much eyeliner, her hair in a severe chin-length bob. Natalie, all skinny limbs and braces, the red ribbons of her hair grazing her shoulders. Their beautiful mother, hair up in her signature loose bun with honey-colored tendrils framing her face. Forever smiling and cancer-free. Their father beamed with pride as he posed with his Posse of Pretties, as he called them back then.

"Well, go on," Kate urged. "End the suspense."

Foster did as commanded and unwrapped the box. His hands rifled through layers of tissue before coming to rest on something metallic and cold.

"Kate, have you done what I think you've done?"

When he pulled the small but meticulously detailed bronze sculpture into view, he gasped in surprise, recognizing the inspiration for the piece immediately—a photo of the three of them, holding hands, running through a field, taken the very day they’d posed for the family portrait. He thumbed its cool surface in disbelief. Tears slid down his wrinkled cheeks.

"Happy Birthday, Pop," Natalie whispered, her throat burning.

Kate rested a hand on his arm. “We love you more.”

Eventually, they shooed Foster off to bed and cleaned up the celebration, minus a beautiful carrot cake under a glass dome. Breakfast, the three decided immediately after finishing Kate’s rich feast. They locked up the house and drifted upstairs to their childhood bedrooms.

Natalie left her phone charging to keep herself distraction-free during dinner. She’d even warned Noah not to text. Hart, however, was a different story. She expected to find a meme or inside joke waiting. When her screen revealed zero notifications, she felt a pinch of disappointment.

Probably for the best.

We’ll talk tomorrow.

Stay focused.

After completing her nightly ritual, she peeked into Kate’s room for one final goodnight. Kate was deep in a phone call.

"Please be careful," Kate said softly, motioning for Natalie to stay. "I will. Goodnight."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea that you—" Natalie began.

"It's fine. We were hanging up anyway."