“Who says I want to grow up? You all make it look tedious.” Gentry shot to her feet, necklaces clinking. “I’ll meet you out there after a stop at the ladies’ room.” With that, she strutted from the office, dismissing Colby and her advice.
Colby drew a deep breath, steeling herself to work with Mrs. Morgan and her mom. Thank God, Sara would be there. Of course, last night Sara had been rather worked up, too. Why did it seem like everyone else was falling apart just as Colby’s life seemed to be coming together?
In the dining room, Mrs. Morgan was checking her phone.
“Good morning.” Colby crossed to join her at the table. “Thank you so much for helping. We can really use your experience.”
“I’m happy to be involved, for both of my sons.”
Talking about Joe jarred Colby, especially because she and Mrs. Morgan hadn’t done so since he died. Now wasn’t the time for Joe stories, though maybe one day they might laugh and cry about him together.
“Your support means a lot to Alec.” Colby smiled. “This is his brainchild.”
“He told me.” Mrs. Morgan had never been effusive, Colby reminded herself. The woman sat now with a polite smile, obviously as apprehensive as Colby. “Have you decided on a name?”
“No. I was thinking we’d keep it simple. Perhaps the Morgan-Baxter Foundation?” She’d intentionally put Joe’s name first.
Mrs. Morgan nodded but didn’t appear enthused. “Didn’t those two refer to themselves as the mavericks?”
A crystal-clear memory of Joe and Mark emerged. Young, handsome faces burnished by the sun. Broad smiles and laughter while they stuffed backpacks in her living room. They’d been drinking beer and planning their first weekend-long mountain-bike excursion. Joe had wanted to attack the more extreme trails of Black Rock Mountain, while Mark had voted for the scenic beauty of McKenzie River Trail. “We can’t be mavericks if we’re sightseeing like pussies!” Joe barked. Mark had caved, and they went to Black Rock. Ever after, they’d referred to themselves as the mavericks.
“Colby?” Mrs. Morgan asked, reaching across the table to jar Colby back to the present.
She blinked, her eyes stinging. “Sorry.”
Mrs. Morgan, sage as ever, simply said, “I understand.”
Of course she did. The woman probably suffered through bittersweet memories every single day.
“The Maverick Foundation.” Colby tested the name aloud. That name meant Mr. Morgan wouldn’t have to see his surname mingled with Mark’s. “Actually, I like that a lot. Let’s see what Alec thinks.”
At that moment, her mom and Sara entered the restaurant, their faces registering surprise when they noticed Julie Morgan.
“Julie! How lovely to see you here.” Colby’s mom gave Julie a vigorous hug. “Won’t this be wonderful—working together like the old days?”
Mrs. Morgan must’ve been doing a mental eye roll because Colby’s mom’s volunteerism had been undertaken like many other things in her life. She began with a bang, but then petered out as her interest waned.
“Yes, I’ve always enjoyed raising money for a good cause.” She turned to Colby just as Alec arrived with a tray of crudités. “What’s the foundation’s mission?”
Alec sat down and answered. “We’ll review proposals from local nonprofits each year and then distribute the funds accordingly. That way we can help a lot of different causes instead of selecting one. Of course, we’ll make a donation to the Burnside Shelter this year.”
“Reviewing proposals will require more work.” Sara pulled out a chair for Gentry, who finally joined the group.
“Hey, all.” Gentry returned from the ladies’ room and sank onto the chair. “What’d I miss?”
Colby’s mother straightened, adopting a pompous air. “Alec was just telling us that the foundation will be taking proposals from local nonprofits each year and then deciding where to donate its money.”
Gentry barely acknowledged Colby’s mom with a nod before she turned to Sara. “What’s the foundation’s name?”
Colby’s mother’s cheeks flushed from the snub, but she lifted her chin.
“I don’t know,” Sara replied.
“Mrs. Morgan suggested the Maverick Foundation.” Colby held her breath, wondering what Alec thought, even as the others murmured approval.
Alec’s gaze drifted through the glass doors to the lake beyond. Had he been hit with a flashback, or did that name sting because he’d never once been invited to any of the maverick adventures? “Good name, Mom.”
Colby released the breath she’d been holding when mother and son exchanged fond glances.
“This group will be the executive team, and Alec, my former colleague Todd, and I will make up the board. Sara’s agreed to handle our finances, and Gentry will cover PR.” She then looked at her mom and Mrs. Morgan. “And I’d hoped you two would focus on silent-auction donations.”
“Whatever you need, honey. You and Alec already have so much on your plates with this gorgeous place.” Her mom gestured around proudly, as if she’d had something to do with it. “Of course, maybe your sister should be involved with the silent auction. I’m sure all the local retailers know her by name.”
Zing!
Gentry’s gaze narrowed over a feline smile, showing a twisted kind of respect for the subtle barb.
“Mom,” Colby warned.
“What?” She shrugged, all sincerity and innocence. “She’ll have an easier time than I will convincing people to donate things, because they’ll care about keeping her business.”
Her mom’s logic aside, Colby didn’t need power plays.
“Leslie’s right, Sis. I have more pull in town than her despite her having lived here almost three times as long.” Gentry smiled sweetly, even as she thrust the sword. Her mom absorbed the blow with grace. “At a minimum, I should be able to get something expensive from Bend the Trend, Periwinkle’s, and Cheeky Chic. Dad can probably hit up Harrington Jewelers.”
“Great, thanks.” Colby shot a quick glance at Alec, whose grin proved he found it all a bit amusing.
Thankfully, Mrs. Morgan wasn’t interested in Mickey Mouse games and brought them back to business. “I assume we’ll host the fund-raiser here?”
“Yes.” Colby turned to Alec, grateful to end her mom and Gentry’s pissing contest. “I’d like to do it before Feast Portland so we can capitalize on the momentum of the grand opening and go into the food festival with twice the buzz.”
Colby watched everyone’s eyes widen.
“That’s not much time,” Mrs. Morgan ventured. “I’m not sure what we can pull together in five weeks.”
“Well, we have the venue. I’ll donate the cost of the food and service on a Tuesday night so it doesn’t interfere with normal operations, and Alec will come up with a special dinner menu that night. The big thing will be invitations, PR, and silent-auction donations.” Colby shrugged. It didn’t sound impossible to her. If anything, the challenge seemed exciting. After two years of living in limbo, she welcomed the buzz of being busy with two new enterprises.
Mrs. Morgan replied, “Most donors will ask for program advertising, but programs take time to design and print. Papers have lead times for ads . . .”
“Is it impossible?” Alec asked.