Chapter 12

Aweek later, Owen placed two glass vases beside some others in his studio. Everything was coming together better than he'd expected for his exhibition, but he was still worried. Even though he'd sold a lot of items at the summer festival, that didn't mean people would want to see more of his work.

Harper and Daniella had arrived an hour ago to help him set up the displays. As well as being a welcome distraction, they'd transformed his studio. Using the shelving units Steve had made, they'd carefully arranged the glass bowls, paperweights, and vases with little cards describing the inspiration behind each collection.

With a grin, Harper placed a pale blue bowl on a table. "Does my girlfriend status mean I get a discount off anything I buy?"

His sister added a matching paperweight to the collection. "Only if the same discount applies to me."

Owen looked at them and smiled. "It depends on what you're offering in return."

Daniella's eyebrows rose. "This is the twenty-first century. Your warped sense of humor will get you nowhere."

"Not even a batch of my favorite chocolate chip cookies?"

Harper grinned. "If that's all it takes, I'll bake you some. Daniella gave me her recipe."

Owen laughed, picturing the mountain of cookies he'd devour if Harper baked them. "In that case, you can have whatever discount you want." When Daniella cleared her throat, he rolled his eyes. "You can have a discount, too."

With a light kiss to his cheek, Harper picked up another bowl. "I was only joking."

But he hadn't been. The last few weeks had been some of the best of his life. Harper centered him, made the times when he felt overwhelmed a little less daunting. Without her encouragement, he doubted the exhibition would have happened.

As they carried more items into the studio, Harper paused, her head tilting to the side. "Everything's so beautiful, Owen. Are you opening your studio again or is this the only time?"

He stopped, the question catching him off guard. He'd been so focused on what was happening tomorrow that he hadn't thought about bringing forward his plans.

"I wasn't going to regularly open my studio until next year," Owen admitted, his eyes sweeping over the tables. "But if I want to make a living from doing this, I might have to open sooner than that."

"You could run workshops and special themed events," Daniella added. "People are always looking for different things to do."

"That's a great idea," Harper said, her eyes shining with excitement. "No one else has a glass studio nearby. It'd be something special people could do together."

Just then, his phone beeped. As he read the text, he smiled. It was from Penny Terry, confirming he could move into one of the community houses. The tenancy was only for twelve months, but it was a start, a place to call his own for a while.

He messaged her back to say he could meet her next week to sign the rental agreement, and then looked at Harper and Daniella. "It looks like I'll be moving soon. Penny said I can rent the cottage Harper and I looked at. It's only for twelve months, but it'll be good to have a place of my own."

"That's fantastic," Daniella said.

Harper hugged him. "That's awesome. Congratulations."

The front door opened and his parents arrived, arms laden with decorations for the studio.

"You didn't have to bring all this," Owen said as he rescued one of the boxes his dad was carrying.

"Nonsense," Lynda replied, her eyes gleaming. "You want people to remember coming here, and these decorations will make the studio sparkle."

George placed the other two boxes he was carrying on the counter. "I brought all our fairy lights. Hopefully, it'll be enough."

Daniella took a bag of decorations from her mom. "Whatever you've brought will be amazing."

The rest of the evening was a blur of activity as they worked together, arranging lights, draping fabric, and setting the mood for the exhibition. Owen felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude as his family and Harper created an incredible backdrop for his art.

Regardless of what happened tomorrow, these people, this moment, would be the foundation of it all. With support like this, he believed anything was possible.

"Dinner's on me tonight," Owen announced once they'd finished. "As a thank you for all your hard work."

His mom smiled. "Dinner together sounds lovely, but you don't need to pay for us. We're just glad to be a part of this with you."

Daniella grinned. "You'd better make the most of your time with Owen. He's found somewhere else to live."

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. "We did 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.

When her phone rang, she thought it must be her granddad making sure everything was okay. But Zac's name appeared at the top of the screen. With a trembling hand, she answered the call. "Hi, Zac. Is Granddad all right?"

"I'm not calling about Benjamin." There was an edge to his voice that made her frown. "There's been an accident just out of town. A shuttle bus ran off the road and there are multiple casualties. I'm sorry to ask you this, but the paramedics are at least twenty minutes away. If you're in town, can you come with me?"

Harper's breath caught in her throat. The sudden flashback to the overwhelming days at Bellevue Hospital during the pandemic flooded her senses. The sound of the monitors, the despair, the touch of fleeting hope—it was all rushing around inside her, making her feel sick.

"Harper?" Zac's voice, edged with concern, pierced her memories.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm at Owen's studio. I'll meet you at the clinic," she managed to reply, her voice stronger than she felt. Ending the call, she turned to Owen and his family. "I have to leave. There's been an accident and Zac needs me."

Owen left the box he was holding on the counter. "I'll take you."

Daniella rushed behind the counter and grabbed Harper's jacket. "We'll turn off the lights and lock the door after we leave." She squeezed Harper's arm before turning to her brother. "If Zac needs more help, just call."

Owen pulled up the zipper of his jacket. "I will." With a quick goodbye to his family, he held Harper's hand. "Let's go. Are you all right?"

Harper didn't know how she felt. All she knew was that people needed her help.