Six weeks after the most publicly attended wedding in the history of Uinta County, Dr. and Dr. Merritt attended an intimate supper party hosted by their closest friends.

“Or,” Chadwick asked, “do you prefer Mr. and Mrs. Merritt?”

Isabella emerged from a hug with Naomi and Sophia to note Chadwick shaking Henry’s hand in the way of closest of confidantes.

Henry chuckled. “Best ask my wife. After all, my name hasn’t changed.”

Isabella tapped her chin, pretending to consider. “From you, I’ll answer to anything. But I prefer missus.”

“Has a lovely ring to it, hasn’t it?” Naomi squeezed Isabella’s hand once more. “It’s wonderful to have you home. Don’t you ever leave us for a month and a half, not ever again.”

“Missed us, did you?” She’d been walking on clouds, even when at “home” in Los Angeles. But Evanston was home. To return brought satisfaction.

Henry’s hand settled at her waist. Make that immense satisfaction, with her husband at her side. Anywhere, with him, would be home. But she’d missed her friends.

Noting the warmest of welcomes for Henry from Joe and Chadwick, Naomi and Sophia, she amended that distinction. Definitely their friends.

“Do come in out of the cold.” Sophia shooed the group into the dining room, closing the front door against the glorious mid-September day. On the warm side, actually.

The house—make that the meal Chadwick had prepared—smelled delicious. Aromas of roasting meat and bread blended with the sweet-tart of fruit. Her stomach rumbled.

Soon they were all seated around the dining room table. Had it been only last spring that she’d sat at this dining room table, one of five, and content?

Three men at one end and three ladies at the other put Chadwick and his wife properly seated at the head and foot of the table, the Chandlers on one side, and the Merritts on the other.

She couldn’t help but smile! The Merritts. How she liked the sound of that.

Dishes were passed, the meal enjoyed, and conversation begun well.

“I propose a toast.” Joe raised his wine goblet, his free arm draped across the back of Naomi’s chair. “To new lettering on the Merritt and Pattison dental office windows. Drs. Merritt and Merritt, Modern Dentistry.”

“Hear, hear!”

Isabella sipped. The new sign, to properly reflect her new marital status, was most welcome, indeed. Not quite ready to return to the patients Dr. English had managed in their absence, Henry and Isabella had merely observed the new signs on their way to their new residence, arranged for by Naomi and Sophia while the newlyweds were on their wedding trip.

The small rental would do, as long as necessary. Isabella liked the idea of living two doors down from the little house where Doc Joe and Doc Naomi resided.

Henry set his wine goblet down and leaned near to kiss her cheek. How she loved this man. Her man.

“I can’t wait another minute,” Sophia said. “Tell us, Henry, how your visit with Isabella’s parents went. Do they approve?”

He laughed aloud, meeting Isabella’s eye. How she loved the happiness sparkling in his beautiful brown eyes. “Very well.”

Her cue to tell the story. “My parents, having been forewarned by telegram—” she’d sent it the day of the wedding, only at Henry’s insistence (she couldn’t give them time to arrive in Evanston and spoil her happiness, now could she?)—“met us at the station and took to Henry instantly.”

He stroked his thumb along the nape of her neck. She loved his familiar touch and that he seemed incapable of being near without touching her. In this intimate setting, he could. And did.

“Tell them,” he whispered near her ear, “what you discovered.”

After all she’d disclosed to her dearest friends, they’d want to know. “I—we—discovered our first evening in my parents’ home wouldn’t be a quiet one. Florence and Dudley, and the children, were present.” She’d worried about Henry, bombarded with the entire family at once. “It turns out they love him.” Emotion surged, filling her throat. She pressed a palm to her collar bones.

Henry stepped in. “And they love Isabella, very much.”

She nodded, still amazed to discover how wrong she’d been. Happy tears filled her eyes. One glance at her husband—husband!—and he picked up the conversation.

“It seems,” he said, “Mrs. Pattison ceased writing letters to Isabella, not because of failing love for her daughter, but because she loves her so completely. She feared she couldn’t write without offending, and having been chastised by Dr. Pattison—father, not daughter—who urged his wife to allow their daughter to choose for herself, she did the next best thing. Mrs. Pattison loves new clothing more than anything else. So she commissioned and shipped new costumes, coats, shoes, etcetera, as wordless declarations of ongoing love and support.”

Henry had been immensely relieved to discover the spending and excess were Mother’s doing.

She squeezed Henry’s hand. “I’d believed Mother’s stylish clothing was her way of ensuring I caught a man’s attention. I hadn’t realized she’d meant to express love.”

How wrong she’d been about many things.

“Wonderful,” Naomi said, with happiness. “What of your sister and her silly husband?”

Isabella shared a look with her husband, her smile matching his own. “Let’s say Dudley will come around.”

“Oh?” Sophia set down her water goblet. “Need I inform him of a thing or two?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Isabella couldn’t help laughing. “He did bring his impressionable children to meet us and dined with us, too.”

“But?” Leave it to Sophia to discover things left unsaid.

“I learned Dudley had heard Florence crying on more than one occasion.”

Both Sophia and Naomi spoke at once. “And?”

“Perfect, obedient Florence believed Mother loved me best.” She’d learned a thing or two about a mother’s love.

Joe clapped Henry on the shoulder. “Did you thank your mother-in-law for the calico suit of clothes?”

“Indeed. She takes full credit for bringing about our wedding.”

“What about me? I introduced you!”

Laughter enveloped them all.

“She’s not angry?” Joe knew human nature, as well as human anatomy. “I suspected she’d fuss about missing the wedding.”

“Mother seemed willing to overlook a great deal of things, as her fondest wish has been realized.”

“Your marriage.” Sophia supplied.

Henry kissed Isabella’s temple. “Our marriage.”

“Mother expressed affection for Henry with that ridiculous calico sack suit long before she knew more than I had a man for whom I wished to provide one calico shirt.”

Laughter filled the dining room and overflowed Isabella’s heart. She simply couldn’t contain her flourishing happiness.

Much good had come from a wedding trip to Los Angeles. Introducing her husband to her parents had uncovered irrefutable truth.

Her parents hadn’t stopped loving her.

She’d made a faulty assumption and allowed the error to cause years of pain. In hindsight, she could see how foolish she’d been.

“Proof” of her parents’ failing love, in the full light of disclosure, became irrefutable demonstrations of undying love.

Watching her parents, at their advanced ages, showed how much in love they still were. To Mother, marriage meant happiness and fulfillment. No wonder Mother had wanted her daughter wed.

“I hesitate to mention it,” Naomi said, already apologizing, “yet I know you’d rather hear this from us . . .”

“What is it?”

“While you were away, a lengthy article ran in the newspaper.” Naomi shared a heavy look with Sophia.

“You must tell me about it.” Nothing Fisher said could hurt her. Everyone local whom she loved sat at this table, hale and happy. “Henry and I haven’t subscribed to the rag in months.”

“A witticism.” Sophia grinned. “One we found much satisfaction in.”

“Do tell.” Isabella wanted to hear this.

“It appears Mr. Fisher’s eyes are opened.” Sophia sat a little straighter, preparing to recite. “‘Why shouldn’t the girl who as a graduate is resolved to set the world on fire, be ultimately satisfied to start a flame in somebody’s heart, if he’s all the world to her?’”

Warmth, akin to full sun in July, spread through Isabella. “Indeed, why not?” In this room, with the man she loved and her four best friends who wholly comprehended the capacity of embracing the best of both worlds, no discussion was required.

“Hear, hear.” Naomi raised her glass. “First glimpse of wisdom from Thomas Fisher to date.”

Joe tapped his knife against a crystal goblet. “Speech, speech!”

Henry laughed. “I gave the finest speech of my life for the entertainment of the people of Uinta County.” His touch settled on Isabella’s shoulder once more. “Have you a speech for our intimate friends?”

Love radiated from her husband, more than enough to fill the holes within her. “Thank you,” she told him once again, “for bringing balance into my life. Now, instead of happiness and laughter, I have you to laugh with and to share in my happiness.”

If she’d given him laughter and happiness, he’d provided her peace and simple joy. Two elements she’d been desperately missing. How well he completed her life, brought meaning, and ultimately proved the one thing she’d most needed since determining to pursue dentistry as a career. “With you, Henry Merritt, I see the sacrifices I made for dental school were utterly worth it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Merritt.”

How she loved this man. He’d made her an equal partner in every way. He not only asked her opinion, but wanted her thoughts. He often deferred to her judgment, for as he’d said, she was the better problem solver.

“Without dentistry, without that path, we’d never have met.” She’d told him of this insight on their first full day as man and wife, while traveling in a private compartment from Evanston to Los Angeles, a wedding gift from the Hugheses and the Chandlers.

But more had simmered in her heart, refining to a pure truth that begged to be shared. “My entire life, your entire life, prepared us to be in the right place at the right time, our very natures, formed by our experiences, making us an ideal match for one another. I wouldn’t trade the journey—or the unexpected destination—for anything.”

One soft clinking of crystal doubled, then quadrupled. She’d spilled her innermost thoughts before their friends!

Her smile softened, ripe with comprehension of all Henry had braved to make her his in front of the entire county. No matter what he’d said, the man was the furthest thing from a coward.

He leaned near. “They expect a kiss.”

The soft tinkle of crystal, music to her ears, brought her back to her groom.

She met him halfway. This brush of lips, warm, familiar, was special beyond measure. This kiss sealed every word spoken, from her wedding vows to her deepest, heartfelt realizations. A promise of so much more to come.

“Whoever said female professionals couldn’t have it all was not only mistaken. They are unenlightened.”

“I’ll kiss to that.” Henry’s kiss caused her brimming heart to overflow.

Applause filled their ears as she looped her arms about her husband’s neck. Who cared if they kissed while seated at the supper table? She imagined she’d seal many a realization this way. In the office (probably without patients present), at home, and with their friends.

A journey of discovery had brought her to Henry, and a beautiful path lay before them, together.

“I’ll kiss to that, too.” So she did.