Page 56 of The Calendar of New Beginnings (Dare Valley #9)

An extra burst of happiness ran through Arthur Hale’s black-ink veins as he watched the festivities around him in Jill’s house. Meredith was holding her newborn baby boy, Jared Arthur McBride, in the middle of a crowd of enthusiastic Hales.

It touched him deeply that she and Tanner had given the boy his name, so much so he’d had to drag a worn handkerchief out of his pocket.

Beyond the baby celebration, they were commemorating another Hale’s return to Dare Valley.

Moira was going to join the ranks of the bright minds shaping a better world at Emmits Merriam University.

His old friend, long since passed, who’d founded the university the same year Arthur had returned to town, would have been proud to see a pioneering invention center on the school’s beloved grounds.

Arthur and Emmits had shared a vision for the world, and in their own ways, they’d laid a foundation for change in Dare Valley.

Another generation was taking the reins now, and soon his time would pass, just like Emmits’ had .

Arthur spied another visionary in the crowd—one of the young folks he’d always hoped would return to Dare Valley.

Lucy O’Brien saw a bigger world than almost anyone else he knew, but she found a way to communicate her vision with others using nothing other than a flimsy thing called paper—rather like Arthur did with his newspaper.

A funny thing, paper. He marveled at everything it could capture.

He picked up one of the autographed copies of The Calendar of New Beginnings sitting on the table and took a seat in one of the empty chairs in the dining room.

April had brought out a bunch of autographed ones to share with the family.

Sure, some people in town had gotten their knickers in a wad about the photos, but most of them—Arthur included—had teared up plenty from reading the dedications.

Now those were worth lingering over, especially the one Jill had written about his beloved wife, God rest her soul.

For my grandmother, Harriet Hale, the kind of woman who threw tea parties with champagne glasses filled with orange juice and gave money to her granddaughter to start a business of her own.

Her love and vision made her one special lady, and I miss her more than words can express.

After tearing up over that particular dedication, he’d flipped through the rest of the calendar pretty quickly. He was three feet in the grave and had no desire to see any of the people he knew buck naked, even if they were covered with props like the American flag.

Old Man Jenkins was a class act, and Arthur thought he looked pretty fit for his age.

Not that he was comparing himself to that old sack of bones.

Joanie liked him just fine, and that was more than he could expect at his age.

Of course, he’d stayed on his girlfriend’s page a tad longer than most. She’d looked pretty good, draped in all those colorful ribbons, but he’d never tell that to another soul save the woman herself.

But if he had to hear another young woman grow breathless while talking about the photo of Chef T hiding his manhood with a meat cleaver, he was going to bash his head into the closest wall.

Some people had no sense.

Of course, he’d heard a few of the men’s comments about his granddaughter wearing nothing but a hat of fruit. He’d leveled them a glare designed to shrivel up their man parts.

The chair next to him was yanked back, and he frowned and looked up at the culprit.

“I was just looking at your calendar,” he told Lucy, who was pretty much beaming like a lighthouse now that she and Young Andy had agreed to hook up for life.

Pretty soon, his great-nephew would put a ring on her finger, and Arthur couldn’t wait until they tied the knot.

These young people were going to give him a stroke someday.

“I saw that,” she said, sitting down and scooting forward until she was beside him. “Why do you think I came over instead of cooing over the new baby? He’s only two months old, but he already has more love in the world than he could ever imagine.”

“Babies are pure love,” Arthur said, and then coughed, realizing he sounded like some greeting card. “What I mean is they’re pure. Not messed up yet by this big old world we live in.”

She gave him a warm smile. “Not everyone is messed up. ”

He gave her a pointed look. “You were.”

“I’m learning,” she said, fighting a smile. “Did you read my dedication in the calendar?”

“Of course I did,” he blustered. “I have eyes, don’t I?” Then he paused, cataloguing her face. “How is your vision?”

“About the same,” she said, putting on a brave face. “But I’m moving forward. I love taking photos and dammit, that’s what I’m going to do.”

Certainly she’d managed to take good photos for the calendar—although to hear her tell it, she’d sworn a blue streak and relied on Moira’s help more than she’d ever imagined.

“Good to hear!” he said, pounding the table for good measure, making some of the adults look over. “Everything is fine.”

They resumed their cooing over the baby.

“My new Leica is feeling more natural in my hands,” Lucy continued, “and I decided I could try out two approaches when I go on assignment again.”

So she was going. “What’s that?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me about the assignments?”

He harrumphed. “None of my affair.” Even if he’d cut his right arm off for details. But he had sources. He didn’t have to get all his information directly, especially in his own family.

“I’m making them shorter. Ten days to two weeks and more spread out now. I’m going to places that aren’t active war zones for the moment until I get more comfortable with being back in the field.”

“That lowers my blood pressure considerably,” he said, fingering the calendar.

“I’m going to try taking some photos in black and white to see if that helps any of the color vision issues until my brain learns how to combine the two different images it’s seeing into a more cohesive frame.

I’ve talked to a few of the people I’ve worked for in the past, and they’re amenable to working through the issue.

And then I’ll decide if I need a collaborator to touch things up after I’ve taken a pass.

We’ll have to see. As you said, I can figure it out. ”

“Why does everyone feel the need to repeat me?” he asked, crossing his arms. “But all of that sounds good.”

She rose and kissed his cheek, which he only pretended to hate.

“We quote you because you’re so wise. Thanks again, Arthur.”

“You have that op-ed on my desk next week,” he said, giving her a wink.

She gave a wave and sauntered off. He had plans for her.

Ones that included her working at his newspaper.

He hadn’t figured everything out yet, what with Meredith being away on maternity leave, but he would.

The Western Independent would continue to report world events long after he was gone. And they could quote him on that!

It was time for the next generation to take over, and Lucy was one of the people he wanted to succeed him.

He eyed Meredith and Tanner. Heaven had wrapped up his retirement in a red bow and plopped it in his lap when those two hitched up.

And now there was Lucy. She was going to figure out how to take world-class photos again—of that he had no doubt—but she was also going to settle down with his great-nephew and have babies.

Arthur had already bought a child’s camera for their first born in case he wasn’t around .

It was like Lucy had said in the calendar. Death came to everyone, and he’d heard it knocking on his door for some time now. He’d made his peace with it.

His fingers traced the dedication Lucy had written on the back of the calendar. It was so compelling, he found himself reading it again. Raw words filled with power and truth deserved to be memorized.

This calendar represents a new collage of subjects for me. Every month captures the complexity of what it means to be human. We all die, and that’s a fact. And we all suffer loss. How can we not if we love?

All of the people photographed in this calendar represent what it means to keep living, to essentially continue being human.

Some of them still hold that sense of whimsy from the memory of a loved one.

Others are still experiencing the piercing, bone-cutting pain of loss.

And then there are those who have reached peace and acceptance and found a way to smile again.

All of these emotions matter. All of them are real. All of them deserved to be seen and honored. Regardless of the losses we all endure, they mark a transition point, one we have chosen to call a new beginning. And so life continues in all its majesty and mystery…