Title: A Love for All Seasons
Rating: T (PG-13) – for implied sexy times and potty mouths. Not premium channel swearing, only network TV.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Modern AU
PSA: I hope that you and yours are safe and healthy during the COVID-19 crisis. Take precautions for yourself and others and please don't hoard any goods that your family doesn't need; we're all in this together, even while we remain physically apart.
Follow Me: Facebook (Mary Smythe; look for the lady in red), Twitter MrsMarySmythe and Pinterest mrsmarysmythe

Summary: In the fall they get off to a rocky start. In the winter they learn to understand each other better. By the time the weather grows hot, so do their feelings...Collection of connected, holiday themed OneShots featuring the evolution of Darcy and Lizzy's relationship. Modern AU.

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

– Mr Darcy, Pride and Prejudice, Vol III, Ch 16

Easter
Hopping the Question

THURSDAY
MARCH 18, 2021

I'm going to marry her. I'm going to marry Lizzy Bennet.

I know, I know, it seems like it's too soon; we've only been going out for a little over three months and our relationship didn't exactly get off to the right start back in August. I realize that it sounds entirely crazy to make the marriage leap already, but…when you know, you know.

When did I know? It's difficult to pinpoint an exact moment in time that I fell in love with Lizzy; it's happened so gradually that I was there before I even realized that I was even in danger of it. But the moment I knew I was going to propose hit me like a freight train and I can tell you precisely when it was.

I woke up this morning—although the qualification of "morning" is open to interpretation at five AM—in Lizzy's loft, curled around her from behind and attempting, playfully, to keep her in bed with me. After our fight (and subsequent marathon make up session) yesterday, I was more devoted to preventing her escape than usual.

"I have to get up, Will," she whined, jutting out her lip and directing her baleful eyes (which she knows I can't resist, the minx) at me. "I've got to feed the animals."

I clung tightly to Lizzy's waist and rolled her beneath me, holding her in place with my weight. As I was nuzzling into the crook of her neck, making myself comfortable again, I made my own play for her attention. "Doordash them some McDonald's, woman."

"I don't think the chickens will want an Egg McMuffin."

"So order them the pancakes."

"Pancakes have eggs in them, too, ya know."

"Well, don't tell the chickens, then."

"You're a sick, sick man." Lizzy chuckled into my hair and I squeezed her hips tightly in an awkwardly aligned hug. "It's probably why I love you so much."

I levied myself up onto my forearms, elbows anchored into the mattress, and looked up into Lizzy's face. Her expression was soft, her eyes brimming with feeling, and that's when I felt it. That's when I knew I would marry her.

I must have stared at Lizzy, her face glowing in the predawn darkness, for more than a minute, just basking in the warmth radiating from her eyes. She didn't seem to mind, thankfully, even though my responding "I love you, too" came out strained.

"C'mere." Lizzy opened her arms wide, inviting me in. "One last kiss before I hit that dusty trail. And you'd better make it a good one; it's gotta last you."

What else can a man do at that point but reach up and give his future wife a kiss? So that's what I did and I successfully managed to keep her in bed with me until nearly six.

o0o

SATURDAY
APRIL 3, 2021

"And you're sure this idea isn't…," stupid, lame, silly, "cheesy?"

Chad slapped me on the back, grinning like the idiot I was beginning to suspect that he was. "Chicks dig it when we're a little cheesy, stop fretting."

I continued to glare at the gold plastic egg in my palm, which taunted me with its fake metallic shine and overall cheapness. How could I have entrusted this toy with the protection of something so precious? I lifted the side nearest to me with my thumb and it popped open on its hinge, revealing a treasure far greater than jelly beans or a bunny eraser: Lizzy's engagement ring, snuggled deeply into a bed of sponge and wine red velvet. "I don't know how you talked me into this."

"Oh, a few beers and you're my bitch." Chad slapped me on the back again and I was sorely tempted to punch the smile off his face. It was way too smug and teasing for my preferences.

I sighed and snapped the egg-case closed, dimming the sparkle inside. "That makes more sense than anything."

"Got your game plan? Know what you're going to say?" Chad asked, carefully avoiding toppling any cash wrap merchandise as he leaned against the counter behind him.

We'd holed up in Longbourn Acre's gift shop—more to stay out of the way than anything—with our coffee while we waited for the floodgates to open and all the screaming kids to arrive for the annual Eggstravaganza, something that the Bennets had put on every year (save for Easter 2020, of course) since Lizzy herself had been a kid. This year would be the twentieth annual and the Bennets were making it bigger and better than ever for all the people desperate to get out and do something after a year of quarantine and uncertainty. Precautions were still being taken, of course—timed entry to the egg hunt areas, social distancing and mask protocols, limiting the number of tickets sold, etc—but in general it would be a victory for freedom against COVID-19.

I'm sure the term "Eggstravaganza" doesn't really require much explanation, but it's the playful title for the Longbourn Acre egg hunt that they host on the Saturday before Easter every year. As Lizzy explained it, the tradition began small when Mrs Bennet offered up their land to the local Methodist church "back in the day" and grew beyond that to an annual event for the community, almost like a small festival. It also acts as an opening salvo to the U-Pick strawberry season, which almost always kicks off the next weekend. People bring their kids to the hunt and hopefully come back for strawberries later. Smart.

This year, regretfully, some of the fan favorites of the event—bouncy castles, face painters and so on—would be irresponsible, but Lizzy still hired the usual food trucks and set up craft stations (a take-it-home version) for the kids. Plus, the usual Longbourn Acres amenities like the petting zoo, concessions stand and gift shop are open for business, so there's more than simply the egg hunt for people to enjoy. It's all very hokey and simple, but people tend to love that kind of stuff. If they didn't, I guess there would have been no point in my saving the farm back in December. So far, though, it seems like my investment won't just benefit the Bennets.

And I'm hardly the only person who thinks partnering with Longbourn Acres and their myriad events was fiscally sound. Emma's always been a fan and had absolutely adored the Eggstravaganza thing, in particular; she's been spreading the word via social media for weeks with a lot of egg and bunny emojis. And the ticket sales at our local stores (sold through the customer service desk) proved that the community was at least as excited about the event as she was—sold out, every last one of them. Had we not been restricted to a certain number of people and timed entries, I bet we could have sold twice as many. And we expect the U-Pick Strawberry tickets to do equally well. I might have to convince Lizzy to turn this Eggstravaganza thing into a two-day event next year and expand into Friday…but that's a future conversation.

But anyway, "Yeah, I've got it all plotted out."

"Are you going to drop down on one knee out there in front of the whole town? Women love big gestures like that." Chad winked at me over the paper rim of his coffee cup as he took a tentative sip. I'm always jokingly surprised that the amount of sugar he adds to it doesn't cause him to immediately start vibrating. It's always black for me, a dollop of creamer for Lizzy. We both wrinkle our noses at how much sweetener Chad pours in.

I shuddered at the very thought of making such a public display. "Dear God, no. I'm going to wait until tonight and do it after dinner. I've got wine chilling upstairs, all the ingredients I need to make her a gourmet dinner, music loaded onto my phone…I've even memorized a big speech. It's covered."

Chad waggled his eyebrows at me and his smile shifted into a smirk. "Are you going to do it dressed up like the Easter Bunny?"

I didn't even dignify that with a verbal response, just a glare at him and take a sip of my black, perfectly respectable coffee. Ooh, hot.

"I'll take that as a resounding 'yes.' Oh, yeah, I can picture it now…it'll be pink, of course, with a fluffy, wuffy cotton tail and a big ol' rainbow bowtie…" Pretending to interpret my surly silences is one of the thrills of his life. He's not as clever about it as Lizzy, but he makes up for it by coming up with some of the most outlandish concepts I've ever heard.

"Shut up, Chad," I hissed through my teeth. I usually find him more amusing, but I was nervous about my plans. I don't find anything funny when I'm anxious. "And, while we're on the subject, you haven't told anyone, have you?"

"Just Jenn."

"Chad."

"I tell her everything!" he protested with a subtle whine. "You should be familiar with the concept by now."

I'd love to argue that me telling Lizzy everything is totally different, but it's totally not and we both know it. Instead, I blew past that spurious argument with, "It was supposed to be a secret! Jeezus, man—"

"What's the big secret, boys?"

I jumped and twirled around, hastily shoving the egg and its bounty into the front pocket of my jeans, to find Lizzy framed in the gift shop doorway just behind me. She looked more adorable than usual with bunny ears settled into her curls and a cotton tail attached to the back of her denim shorts (something I'd probably squeeze if I weren't so on edge). And her lacy pink tank top—modestly cut for the kids—was refreshingly seasonal.

"Nothing," said Chad, doing a far better impression of "I'm not up to anything, why?" than I was.

"Secret?" I didn't like how my voice squeaked as I said that and I flinched a bit. "What secret?" So inconspicuous. Completely natural. I'm such an idiot.

Lizzy looked at me funny, like she was trying to decide whether or not to interrogate me within an inch of my life—I won't lie, I shivered with the thought of letting her do so upstairs in her loft, where we could have more privacy—but she only held my gaze for a few seconds, glanced at her watch and said, "Yeah…you're not being suspicious at all, but I don't really have time to figure out what y'all are up to. The gates open in T-minus five minutes. All hands to their stations! Vamonos!"

My shoulders slouched with relief once my girlfriend flounced back outside. That had been close.

o0o

Due to the overwhelming interest, Lizzy had agreed to host two egg hunts (one for little kids, one for bigger kids) every hour to accommodate all the people who wanted to participate. Half an hour for a limited number of children to run into the field to find eggs, half an hour for volunteers to restock and then let in another group. One parent per child who needed the assistance, of course. Sounds like complete madness to me and I'm glad that Lizzy didn't put me on maze duty.

The eggs themselves were hidden in the corn maze—or, rather, what once was the corn maze, which had been razed after Halloween. For the egg hunt, Lizzy and her various helpers had formed the mazes out of bales of hay that topped out at waist height, giving the kids a bit more challenge than an open field. The corn itself, Lizzy informed me, wouldn't be planted until after Easter when it got a bit warmer.

There was one section of maze for the little ones and their parents, another for the bigger kids, and each was overseen by a volunteer or part time employee. I recognized Mary and her clipboard lecturing the next crowd of big kids—all of whom were quivering with excitement and looking beyond her into the maze—about mask safety and social distancing as time ticked down for their entry. Jenn was speaking more sweetly to the toddlers and their assorted parents in front of the smaller section. Inside each was a contingent of farm workers dropping more eggs where the last group had depleted the supply.

Lizzy, of course, was wandering around everywhere, overseeing all aspects of the event and solving problems as she went. She hopped from place to place—the two different mazes, concessions, prize booths and so on—like the bunny she was dressed up as. God, but she's so cute in that cotton tail…

What was I doing, you ask? I was on prize patrol. Or, rather, I was one of several Pemberley Markets' employees handing out stuffed animals, gift cards and the occasional pre-made Easter basket to kids who were lucky enough to find a Grand Prize token in one of their eggs. Most of the eggs just had a piece of candy in them, but a small amount had metallic plastic coins inside in different colors which denoted what they'd won (pink was a stuffed animal, green was a gift card and gold won you a basket). It was my company's big contribution to the event—save for the advertising, provided paper bags and online/kiosk ticket sales, of course—and an opportunity for self-promotion. All the toys and gift cards had come from Pemberley Markets and would hopefully lead the parents back to our stores to shop.

I'd been so busy greeting potential future customers and smiling at adorable children with their new plushie chicks that it was a couple hours before I'd noticed that the ring was missing.

Holy shit.

It was an accidental discovery in that, upon feeling a sudden surge of affection for Lizzy while she literally hopped around a group of squealing kids pretending to be an actual bunny, I'd reached down to pat the pocket where the egg-case was supposed to be hidden. Finding my jeans disconcertingly flat where I'd expected to feel a plastic bulge, I'd patted the other, thinking I'd forgotten which pocket I'd put it in. Nothing there. Beginning to panic, I searched every crevice of my pants, but found no sign of the golden egg or the ring.

Again, holy shit.

I turned to Chad and impatiently waited for him to hand over the overloaded basket he was presenting to a five-year-old boy, bouncing in place as all the things which could have happened to the egg revolved through my mind. It could have gotten mixed up with the eggs intended for the hunt. Someone could have found it and taken it home with them, thinking it an unusually good prize (or just not caring that it probably belonged to someone else for a specific purpose). It could be buried out in one of the muddy hay mazes, tromped under hundreds of feet.

Finally, Chad waved the boy and his mom off with a cheery smile and turned to me where I was impatiently waiting for his attention. He seemed startled by the look on my face which, no doubt, was dark and twisted with anxiety. "What's the matter?"

"I lost the ring!"

"Holy shit."

"To say the least."

"Okay." Chad took a deep breath, wiped the shock off his face (clear to me even above the edge of his silly, marshmallow peep-dotted facemask) and adopted his managerial attitude. Chad is a pretty laid back guy, but I'd never have hired him if he couldn't take things seriously when it mattered. "Where was the last place you saw it?"

I thought back, forcing the haze of panic to dissipate. "Earlier, in the gift shop. Before we opened. Lizzy came in and I put it in my pocket—or I thought I did."

"Alright," Chad's tone was soothingly straightforward and calm, "then it's probably still there. Just go get it and maybe tuck it away in Lizzy's loft, or something, so you don't lose it again."

An excellent idea. Must remember to give Chad a bonus, or something. "I'll be back," I said, beckoning one of our teenage part-timers forward to take my place at the stand. Her name tag said "Lydia" and I suspected that she was one of our many after school baggers.

Having set up my replacement next to Chad, who would explain the procedures for me, I dashed off toward the gift shop with equal amounts of hope and dread churning in my stomach.

o0o

Thankfully, the gift shop itself was relatively empty because most people were outside in the sunshine hunting for eggs or chasing their sugar-addled children around on the playground. It was still open, of course, because a big event would be profitable to all aspects of the farm, but the prize booths, kid activities and food trucks were elsewhere on the property and so only patrons interested in jars of strawberry jelly, pumpkin butter and homemade crafts would bother wandering in. Besides myself, there was an elderly couple browsing the canned goods and…damn it. Mrs Bennet was behind the counter.

"Will!" my future mother-in-law cried when I'd burst into the shop and I could swear that her fuzzy bunny ears perked up. When she spoke again, the high-pitched squeal of her tone was only slightly muffled by her mask (hers sported jellybeans). "What can I do for you? Are you looking for Lizzy? Are you hungry or thirsty? I can whip you up something from the kitchen real quick."

Mrs Bennet is…erm, nice, but she's also a complication that I didn't need right that moment. Ever since I'd started dating Lizzy, she's been my biggest fan. Swimfan, practically, like a tween girl with a boyband crush (1). In our every interaction, I can practically feel the adoration coming off of her in waves, as if she's radioactive with it. It's sweet, I guess, but also unnerving from your girlfriend's (hopefully soon-to-be-fiancée's) mother. Because of Mrs Bennet's unnaturally high esteem for me, looking for the missing engagement ring just got a million times more awkward.

"Erm…" Well, there wasn't really anything else to do for it. I had to ask if she'd seen the egg and hope that she hadn't looked inside it. Presumably if she had, she'd have already run out of the gift shop and vaulted all of the obstacles between us to inform me exactly how happy she was to have me as her future son. "I lost something earlier, a gold egg. Have you seen it?"

Mrs Bennet tilted her head to the side, her brow crumpled in thought. "A gold egg? Like, a real one, or…?"

A real one? As in, the kind laid by a golden goose, or one made out of solid twenty-four karat precious metal? Didn't matter. "It's plastic, with a hinge on it. A lot like the ones in the egg hunt, but…gold." I wasn't sure how else to explain it. It's a freaking plastic Easter egg. The only thing special about it are its contents.

"And you're sure it didn't end up in the barrels with the others?" she asked, pointing out my obvious first thought.

God, I hoped not. Even a golden egg wouldn't stand out amidst thousands of others almost just like it. "I don't think so. Not unless someone else picked it up." Just the idea made my stomach twist.

Mrs Bennet's squinty gaze roamed around the shop. "I don't see it…where were you standing when you lost it?"

I moved closer to her, though kept the counter between us. "About where you are. Do you see it on the floor anywhere?"

Mrs Bennet took a step back and scanned the natural plank wood floor around her feet. "No, I'm sorry. I don't…wait, is that it?"

I leaned almost flat across the counter and followed the point of her finger to the far corner of the cash wrap area. There was a metallic glint of something wedged up underneath the cabinets behind Mrs Bennet, deep into the far corner. My tension instantly melted at the sight of it, though I tried not to get my hopes up if it was a false alarm. "I think so."

Mrs Bennet was already bending down to pick it up before I'd given my affirmation. She plucked it out of its hiding place and stood back up, a slightly dusty but otherwise pristine golden egg held aloft on the tips of her fingers. "This what you're looking for?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it." Relief crashed over me and I nearly staggered back a step, holding out my hand for the egg.

Frowning slightly at the egg, Mrs Bennet bobbed it up and down as if weighing it. "It's heavy. What did you put in here?"

Before I could stop her, Mrs Bennet's curiosity overcame any qualms she might have had (though I suspect she didn't have many) over invading my privacy and she popped the egg open. The top fell back, revealing the rose gold bounty inside.

We each stood there, frozen, for an interminable stretch of time. I couldn't say what Mrs Bennet was feeling, but I, myself, was numb with horror. All of my best laid plans of a quiet dinner, a heartfelt speech and…ahem, private celebration with Lizzy evaporated the instant Mrs Bennet saw the ring. So much for the element of surprise.

I watched silently as Mrs Bennet's expression slowly evolved from stupefied to dawning comprehension to barely restrained excitement, her color rising accordingly. It was like watching the pressure build inside a tea kettle; any second, I fully expected Mrs Bennet to whistle and shoot steam out of her ears.

And that, more or less, is exactly what happened.

"Lizzy!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, startling the elderly couple shopping in the corner and blasting me back a couple of feet. I covered my ringing ears when I saw her inhaling a deep breath, and so her next exclamation was slightly more acceptable to my auditory nerves. "Lizzy! Lizzy! Lizzzzzy! Come quick! Oh—bless me, I can't believe it—so handsome, so steady, so rich—"

I lurched forward a few seconds later as something ran headlong into my back. It was Lizzy herself and she was panting slightly, presumably from her mad dash to respond to her mother's summons. "What's the matter, Mom? What happened?"

Mrs Bennet rushed out from behind the counter and flung herself at Lizzy, sobbing and hysterical. Lizzy looked at me with wide eyes, silently asking me to explain what the ever-living hell was going on, but I flushed and looked down at my feet.

"Mom, seriously, tell me what's wrong," Lizzy pleaded. "If the cash register froze again, I can fix it. Just please calm down."

"Wrong!" Mrs Bennet burst out, leaning back far enough to gawp at her younger daughter as if Lizzy were the one behaving irrationally. "Nothing's wrong you dear, sweet, wonderful girl! Two daughters married—good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! William Darcy! Who would have thought it?"

Lizzy's eyes darted in my direction again, her expression more befuddled than ever, as her mother continued to babble about our engagement as if I'd already popped the question. Which I hadn't. Apparently, that would have been superfluous.

"Such a charming man! So handsome—so tall! Oh, my dear, dear Lizzy. Oh, Lord have mercy! I don't have any words."

If anything, I would have preferred fewer words from Mrs Bennet. Her caterwauling was drawing a crowd of pastel-wearing rubberneckers, including a few familiar faces. There was Zombie Hank holding the hand of some girl I presumed must be his girlfriend. Jenn and Chad, too, both of whom looked pained on my behalf. My replacement at the prize booth, Lydia, was giggling madly behind her hand and I could hear her snorting. I didn't see Mr Bennet anywhere, but there was Emma, Knightley and a gaggle of my employees clustered around the doorway with clear interest on their faces. Emma was grabbing onto Knightley's arm and jumping up and down in place, overflowing with enthusiasm.

I was about to jump in and drag Lizzy away to a place where I could explain what was going on in more privacy when Mrs Bennet whipped out that blasted golden egg and opened it up for everybody to see. There it was, in all its sparkling rose gold glory, the engagement ring. When I'd imagined this moment over the past few weeks, I'd been the one holding it out for Lizzy's inspection, not her meddling, wailing mother. "Isn't it gorgeous? It's got to be two karats, at least! And see the smaller diamonds along the band? The intricacy of the setting? It had to have set Will back ten thousand, at least, and very likely more! Jenn's ring is nothing to this, nothing at all!"

"Will?"

Somehow, over Mrs Bennet's ongoing effusions, I heard Lizzy's voice. She wasn't looking at the ring, or her mother, or anyone else in the peanut gallery. Just me, her eyes light, bright and sparkling with wonder.

It was time to take back control of the situation. I stepped forward, snatched up the ring, stupid egg-case and all, in one hand and grabbed Lizzy's wrist in the other and tugged them both away from Mrs Bennet. Without looking back, I dragged a dazedly compliant Lizzy through the back room where the office and storage were located and out the back door. But I didn't stop yet; no, there were too many people milling about and I wanted, more than anything, a bit of privacy to do this thing right. So I rounded the corner of the barn and headed directly for the stairs which would lead up to Lizzy's loft.

Lizzy followed without either question or complaint and I worried about the answer I'd receive when I finally got to ask her to marry me. I prayed that she'd be merciful and put me out of my misery with a resounding yes, but I was so rattled by the events of the morning that I wasn't sure what I would get. Dear God, let her say yes.

When we got upstairs and inside, I closed the door behind us and bolted it tight against any further intrusions. Then, I turned my attention to Lizzy, my heart pounding hard against my Adam's apple as I peeled my mask (boring, standard black) away from my face.

I was emboldened by what I saw in her verdant green eyes. Some of the surprise from downstairs had apparently worn off and they were warm and inviting, like a patch of fresh grass in the spring sunlight. She was still wearing her bunny ears and they quivered in anticipation. Her carrot-dotted facemask had disappeared somewhere out of sight, out of mind. I swallowed my heart back down to where it belonged and began, "Lizzy—"

"Yes!"

A laugh burst out of me as Lizzy cut me off with her affirmative exclamation. I was relieved enough to tease, somewhat shakily, "Isn't anyone going to let me do this properly?"

"Sorry." Lizzy bounced on her toes, her eyes glittering, and visibly reined herself in. "Sorry, do your thing. I'll be good, promise."

I shook my head and promptly dropped down onto one knee; clearly, I was not going to get to do my entire routine now that Lizzy knew what was coming. I decided to just improvise because, honestly, it seemed fairly futile to do anything else by that point. "Elizabeth Bennet, I love you. I know we've had our ups and downs," Lizzy bit her lip as if restraining a giggle at my understatement, "but they've only cemented my feelings for you. I'll always regret how our relationship started, but I'll be forever grateful that you were willing to look past my many faults and give me another chance. I—jeezus, I had everything all planned out, what I was going to say…"

Lizzy blinked rapidly and I noticed moisture growing along the fringe of her eyelashes. "You're doing great. Just get to the good stuff."

"Okay." I took a deep, steadying breath. "I love you most ardently. Tell me that you'll be my wife."

Lizzy collapsed onto her knees in front of me and flung her arms around my neck. "Yes."

Footnotes:

Swimfan—for those of you who aren't well versed on American teen thrillers from the 1990s, Swimfan was a movie about a guy who was stalked by an obsessive fan. He was on the swim team at school, hence the swim bit of "Swimfan." It was basically fatal attraction for teens, looking back on it.

Author's Notes: So sorry about the delay in posting this time! It was a busy weekend and I just didn't have the time to devote to polishing this chapter up until this morning. I guess that's the risk I run by putting all of my deadlines on major holidays, huh? (You'll notice that I planned ahead for Christmas, though.)

Anyway, I told you that this chapter would be more traditionally romantic 😉 I'm not sure I can really see the original Darcy going along with the silly egg-case scheme, but…eh. I'm not one to waste a good idea. And poor Will seems beset by Murphy's Law in this story anyway. Plus, just thinking about it getting lost amidst literally thousands of other plastic eggs gave me a case of the giggle vapors so I kinda had to. Lizzy dressed up as a bunny occurred to me in the moment, though; cute, right? Well, I think it is, at any rate.

I tried to illustrate the partnership between Pemberley Markets and Longbourn Acres a bit more in this chapter, basing it largely on the apparent relationship between Harris Teeter (my model for Pemberley Markets, for the most part) and the Carolina Renaissance Festival (which, sadly, didn't open up at all in 2020, sigh). HT sells tickets and does advertisement for RenFest in the fall, but I figure PM would do more for LA since the latter is open for different events year-round whereas RenFest is just October and November. And I really doubt that the CEO of HT is dating the owner/manager of RenFest, haha. You'll see more of this business relationship in future chapters, in bits and pieces.

Do me a solid and just assume that people are all wearing their masks even if I don't specifically say that they are. They're so part of the fabric of everyday life now that I barely think about it anymore, except to put one on.

In the US, Mother's Day is always on the second Sunday of May, which puts our next update on May 9th. See y'all then!

HAPPY EASTER!

Next Update: Mother's Day (US) 2021
Expected Completion Date: September 2021

– MrsMarySmythe