The following day—and despite the date on the calendar—the weather was springlike and Anna and the boys opened three of the garage doors, the fourth being stuck beyond use. People seemed to have gotten the word and began showing up at the warehouse, parking cars and bicycles on the weedy earth next to the dirt road. They were shy at first, milling around outside the big garage doors, but once Anna welcomed them, they entered in a rush.

Anna had sewn a little cheesecloth bag and filled it with charcoal dust. She held it up in front of the cartoon and explained to her visitors what she was about to do with it. She was giving them a little art lesson, she thought, and she had her guests’ rapt attention. There were perhaps twelve or fifteen people in the warehouse, watching and listening. She recognized several of them. Miss Myrtle, of course, and one of her friends. A clerk from the market. A couple of men she didn’t know. The photographer from the paper. He stood front and center, his camera flashing in her face every few minutes.

She began pouncing the cheesecloth bag over the cartoon, climbing up and down the ladder to reach the various parts of the design. She knew it was difficult for some of the people to really see the cartoon and what she was doing, but they stood riveted, patiently waiting for the end result.

Jesse’s aunt Jewel and little Nellie arrived when Anna was about halfway through. They stood in the back, but Anna insisted they come up front next to Jesse so Nellie would be able to see, and no one made a fuss. This was Anna’s space and she could have whoever she wanted in her audience. She let Nellie do some of the low pouncing herself, hoping Mrs. Williams wouldn’t be annoyed that her daughter’s fingers and pinafore got a bit of charcoal dust on them. Nellie seemed to enjoy performing in front of the crowd, even taking a cute curtsy once she was finished. Maybe there would end up being two artists in the Williams family.

When Anna finally completed the pouncing, Jesse and Peter helped her remove the cartoon and everyone cheered when they saw the outline of the drawing on the canvas. The photographer had Anna and the boys pose with the canvas for the newspaper. Then the crowd slowly trickled out of the warehouse, Jesse and Peter along with them.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Miz Dale,” Peter informed her with a wink as they sauntered out, and she guessed both boys had special girls they wanted to see. She watched them leave with a smile, and although she was left alone in the warehouse, sweeping up charcoal dust like Cinderella, she felt as content as she’d ever felt in her life.