Chapter Three

      “We’ll discuss old business first,” Louella Gibbons addressed the Mums gathered around Betty Jean’s dining room table. “We’ll start with Dr. Mac, since Tessie has to leave early for a dentist appointment.”

      “Thank you, Lou.” Tessie rose to her feet, clearing her throat. “By now you all know we didn’t get the desired results we hoped for with Dinner Date.”

      The chorus of groans indicated that everyone was as disappointed as Tessie.

      “Maybe we should try another one?” Edith suggested.

      Tessie shook her head. “It’s not cost-effective. We need another plan.”

      “I agree,” Mildred spoke up. “We are better matchmakers than those dating services. I say we make up our own list of eligible young ladies and do our own matchmaking.”

      Several comments supporting Mildred’s suggestion came at once.

      Louella clapped her gavel. “One at a time, ladies, please.”

      “I think Mildred’s right,” Agnes said. “That’s what we did for Francine’s granddaughter and look at those results.”

      “She’s happily married and expecting a baby and all because we sent her on a blind date with Betty Jean’s cousin’s grandson,” Louella stated.

      “But Michael refuses to go on a blind date,” Tessie pointed out.

      “Then we’ll just have to get to know this girl ourselves and invite her to a Mum gathering that Michael plans to attend,” Edith stated simply, as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to orchestrate.

      “Do we have a young lady in mind?” Louella asked.

      “I do,” Dorothy Sandberg said with a furtive twinkle in her eye. “Her name is…”

      “IT IS AN HONOR to have such a beautiful display of art in our center.”

      Cassie accepted the compliment graciously, smiling at the gray-haired gentleman. “I am the one who is honored, Emmet. I can’t think of a better place to exhibit my work.”

      “But you could have gone to any of the galleries in town and had your opening. For you to allow us to show these beautiful portraits here…well, it is very good for the center.”

      “And you have been good to me,” she acknowledged, appreciating the assistance the director of the senior citizen center had given her. From helping her find models to sit for her portraits to making the arrangements so that she could exhibit her work at the center, Emmet Sandberg had done everything he could to help her turn her dream into a reality.

      “I’ve been looking at these pictures all morning and I still haven’t gotten tired of looking at them,” he told her, his eyes making another survey of the room.

      The pictures he referred to were portraits sketched by Cassie. Eighteen pastels of married couples. Two sketches—one as newlyweds, the other as they currently were in the golden years of their marriages. She’d titled the exhibit “Everlasting Love.”

      “Thank you. That’s one of the nicest compliments I could receive,” she said sincerely.

      “Did you know that when you add up the total number of years all of these people have been married, it comes to exactly one thousand?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but said, “Dorothy figured it out.”

      Dorothy was the woman in portrait number four, Emmet’s wife of fifty-one years. At first she had been a bit reticent about posing for Cassie, but after sitting down to coffee and doughnuts and discovering that Cassie’s grandmother had belonged to the same Sons of Norway lodge as Emmet and Dorothy, she’d become one of her staunchest supporters.

      “You could have called this ‘A Millennium of Love,’” Emmet continued. “Wouldn’t that have been a great title?”

      “It certainly would be accurate, wouldn’t it?” she answered. She didn’t tell him that Dorothy had suggested the very same thing and on more than one occasion. With all the hype that had preceded the turn of the century, Cassie hadn’t wanted to use the word millennium in connection with her work.

      “These portraits aren’t just about numbers,” she told Emmet. “They’re about people who have worked hard to keep marriages intact through loss and suffering. The faces in these pictures have had great joy, but they’ve also lived through wars and economic hardship. And despite all the social and political turmoil of the past century, their love has lasted.”

      “Ah, that is so true,” he said, a gnarly finger propped against his chin as he studied the portrait of a couple who’d been married seventy-two years. “With those colored chalks of yours, you tell so much. The love, the joy, the wisdom…it’s all there.” He took several steps to his left until he stood in front of his own portrait. “I mean, look at my Dorothy. When I look at the picture it’s almost as if I can hear her saying ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Emmet.’ You have a gift, Cassandra. You show the best of people.”

      “I only draw what I see,” Cassie told him. “The emotions expressed here are not mine. I’m just the instrument for showing who these people really are, and each one is someone very special.”

      “And I thank you for showing that to the world. Not many people would devote an entire exhibit of art to old people.”

      “Well, I did, and I’m very glad that I took the time to get to know these wonderful married couples.” She spread her arms in an encompassing gesture. “They are my tribute to aging and to love that endures the test of time.”

      She again surveyed the room, appreciating the lighting and the spacing of her portraits. Even though the center wasn’t an art gallery, the staff had constructed a very elegant and artistic display of her work. It reinforced her decision to have the opening at the center rather than in an art gallery.

      “You did a wonderful job arranging the portraits, Emmet,” she complimented the older man.

      He smiled. “I had help. My sister used to work at the Walker. Of course, she’s retired now, but she has a good eye, don’t you think?”

      “Yes, I do. I’d like to meet her. Will she be here tonight?”

      “As a matter of fact, she will. And so will lots of other people. It’s going to be a wonderful opening.”

      “I’m sure it will be.” Cassie had a rush of nervous excitement at the thought of a project so dear to her heart finally being ready for public display. “What time would you like me to be here?”

      “Maybe an hour before opening…would that work for you? We’ve invited all of the married couples in the pictures to come early so they can see the exhibit before it’s open to the public.”

      “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing them again.”

      “And they will be delighted to see you. Will you be bringing a guest?”

      “Yes,