It's a Fabulous Life, page 14
The people you care about are here. And you understand why Maria wants to live here.
No no no. Thoughts like that were not conducive to moving forward and onward and out of here.
Maria put all sorts of thoughts in her head. Reminders of good times. Reminders that not everything in Lanford Falls was a chore.
“Thank you,” Bailey said without thinking.
Maria cocked her head. “For what?”
“For reminding me about some things I’d forgotten. Things from high school, like choir and madrigals, and how I wanted to study archaeology in college.”
“And prom night.”
“Even prom night,” Bailey laughed.
Maria giggled, then leaned in. “You want to know the real reason that night sticks out so clearly in my memory?”
“Other than the sprinkler incident and all our awkwardness?”
“Your suit. It was fitted and feminine, but totally commanding. You looked …” Her eyes clouded over. “You looked fine. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. It started me on a lifelong love of women in suits.”
An unexpected flush heated Bailey from the inside out. Should she say thanks? Ask why Maria hadn’t dragged her to a dark corner to reenact their kiss at Mistletoe Grove? “I, uh …”
I still like wearing suits, Maria.
A glimmer of recollection flitted through her mind. Red. Maria had worn a red dress, and had her hair been piled in a fancy up-do?
Lulu trotted over to say hi, Rosie galumphing behind her. Rosie leaped to give Bailey a hug, but she’d grown wise to the dog’s modus operandi and moved out of reach.
“Rosie,” Maria groaned. “Nobody wants your hugs.”
Undeterred, Rosie rammed her boxy head into Bailey’s thighs. “Subtle,” she said, and scratched at Rosie’s short hair.
“Anyway, thank you for the thank-you. It’s nice to share embarrassing stories from our youth.”
“Especially ones that involve your brother,” Bailey added.
“So many of those,” Maria sighed.
“Some of my favorite memories involve members of the Hatcher family.”
“Some of mine involve members of the George family.”
Their eyes met, wordlessly sharing Mistletoe Grove memories.
Maria smiled at Lulu and Rosie wrestling on the packed-down snow. “And the next generation here is making new ones.”
It really was too bad they hadn’t reconnected sooner. Though Maria hadn’t been single, and she didn’t have Rosie, so they just had the here and now.
“I’m pro making new memories,” Bailey said. “For the two- and four-legged members of our families.”
“Well, if you’re interested …” Maria took a sip of coffee. “My parents are bringing their old fake Christmas tree over to my place tonight.”
Bailey gasped in mock horror and cried, “A fake Christmas tree?”
Maria playfully shoved her. “I haven’t had the chance to get a real tree or a tree stand. We’re going to make golabki and decorate the tree. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“I haven’t had your mom’s golabki in years.”
“I’m sure she’d love to see you and feed you cabbage rolls. And for Rosie to have a diversion if you bring Lulu, which is a requirement.”
“Of course.”
“That is, if you don’t mind being in my creepy little house.” A teasing glint lit Maria’s eyes.
“I’ll work on shrinking myself so I’ll fit.” Bailey scrunched her body tight.
Maria looked down at Lulu. “Do you know how silly your mommy is? She’s ridiculous.”
Lulu snorted and pawed at Rosie’s face. Rosie flopped onto her back and kicked her front legs in the air.
“It sounds like fun,” Bailey said. “We can talk about our wins of the day.”
Maria glanced at her watch. “I need to get to work so today is a win. I’ll check in when I can.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just think about local art and literary history.”
“I can do that and check in.” She gestured with her cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Thank Kurt for the coffee,” Bailey said.
“You’re my hook-up, so thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do for my committee head of food.”
Maria patted her leg and said, “Come on, monster.”
Rosie trotted alongside her. So did Lulu.
“Hey, buddy,” Bailey called, but Lulu ignored her. She and Rosie walked and chest-bumped one another.
Bailey shrugged, then jogged to meet up with them. “You’ll get to play again tonight,” she said, but was ignored by the dogs.
Maria could barely separate them at the gate to get Rosie’s leash on. Lulu stared up at her human, thinking they were leaving too. “We don’t have to go,” Bailey told her.
“I think we’re breaking up a beautiful friendship,” Maria laughed.
Lulu followed them out. Bailey quickly stepped outside the park and closed the gate so nobody else could escape. “Lulu,” she stated. “We’re not going with them.”
The confused canine slowed her steps, looking between her master and her new best friend.
“We’re going to Grandma’s. You wanna see Grandma?”
Her ears perked, but she didn’t get wiggly the way she usually did.
“Aww, Lulu,” Maria cooed. “We’ll see you tonight.”
Bailey had to attach Lulu’s leash so she didn’t wander any farther into the small parking lot. She whined as Rosie hopped into the back seat of Maria’s car. Rosie mashed her face against the window and whined back. Maria chuckled at the pathetic display.
“I’d say you could bring her to my mom’s house …” Bailey started, but Maria waved off the suggestion.
“Rosie would be a crying mess without me there. At least for the first visit.”
“For future playdates, then. My mom would love it.”
Maria nodded in agreement. “Future playdates.”
They shared a wave, and then Maria slid into the driver’s seat. Lulu strained on her end of the leash. “I promise you’ll see Rosie in a little while,” Bailey said.
She had to pull her despondent dog in the opposite direction. They crossed into the neighboring subdivision. Bailey raised her cup to take a sip of coffee, then paused. Wait a minute. She hadn’t made it a point to mention tonight would be a casual hangout. Well, she didn’t have to. Maria knew the score.
Her pulse thrummed steady and strong from the pleasure of seeing Maria. Just thinking about hanging out later would energize her throughout the day.
Uh-oh. This was an entirely different kind of anticipation. It wasn’t trivia night with her buddies or going to the movies with Hannah. It was … It was …
It was the same giddy excitement she got before a date. Which was silly, because decorating a Christmas tree with Maria and her parents was definitely not a date.
Her heart skipped a beat. A date with Maria.
Like a summertime picnic at the old wooden bridge. Maria would appreciate the town history and how the Beautification Committee had revitalized the park surrounding the structure. Or a warm chocolate fondue at the fudge shop on a cold winter’s night. Basically, their dates would involve food.
Or they could snuggle on the couch beneath a fleece blanket and watch TV or talk or just enjoy each other’s company while their dogs slept soundly in front of Bailey’s gas fireplace. Whatever they did would be wonderful because Maria was pretty wonderful, and spending time with her was really wonderful. And getting to do more than kiss her under the mistletoe would be really, really wonderful.
The bleep of a new text brought her back to reality. Especially when she read the message from Jane.
Vendors already showing up. Need you and the list of who’s registered.
Bailey suppressed a sigh. She couldn’t even entertain nice thoughts and daydreams today. “Come on, Lulu Bear,” she said, and picked up the pace.
Two more days of this crap.
CHAPTER NINE
Winter Wonderfest had grown in reach and popularity over the years, which was great. The fact that people thought it started on Friday, not so much.
Bailey moved from the mobile food vendors to the little booths where artists and craftspeople were setting up their wares. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Two middle-aged women wearing fuzzy reindeer antler headbands stopped her on the path. One of them pointed to where lights were being hung on the right side of the stage. “What time is the concert this afternoon?” she asked.
“There’s no concert this afternoon.” Bailey used her kindest tone, though it had lost any shred of upbeat an hour ago. “The festival doesn’t actually start until tomorrow.”
The women looked half confused, half disappointed. Ugh. She pasted on a smile and added, “I believe school gets out early today. You’ll hear our fantastic high school madrigal singers around town this afternoon.”
That seemed to mildly appease them. Bailey wished them happy holidays and not so discreetly shoved her clipboard into her messenger bag. She didn’t need a visual aid for people to think she was the answerer of all festival questions. This was by far her least favorite day of prep week.
She snagged her phone out of the front pocket. Shoot, it was almost noon. Maria was set to give her presentation any minute now. Which Bailey knew because they’d been texting off and on all morning. She’d kept giving Maria encouragement to distract her from being nervous. Plus, Maria was cute and funny in her texts.
Sending some last-minute support, Bailey texted:
You’re going to knock their socks off, Hatcher! Go get ’em!
She stepped from the path to allow extra room for the crew setting up tables and chairs inside the food tent. Huh. That one side still looked crooked. The bright sunshine was melting the snow, so that was clearly no longer the problem.
Bailey waved at the nearest guy. “Can you tell Vince that back side doesn’t look right? It’s sitting crooked and funny near the corner.”
The park district employee said he’d relay the message. Maria’s reply text popped onscreen.
Eww would it stink if I knocked their socks off???
Bailey laughed quietly. Tom and Pete walked by, each toting a short ladder. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“We don’t like how the booths look,” Pete said.
“We’re going to rehang the ribbons and garland,” Tom said. “Make them so they’re more like swags at the top so there’s more room for the vendors along the sides.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” Bailey said. She literally did not care at this point if the booths were as naked as the day God made them.
Jane tiptoed over and snapped a photo of the brothers with her phone. Thank goodness she had a handle on all the social media and emails from now on.
Pete called a greeting to her. “How’s Susan?” he asked.
“Home and on the road to recovery,” Jane said.
“Give her our best,” said Tom. “Our mother’s dropping off a casserole for the family.”
“That’s so thoughtful. Thank you. Susan appreciates all the help.” She gestured with her phone around them. “All the help. Truly.”
Bailey gave her a tight smile, then went to check on the three guys setting lights up around the stage. Purely an excuse to hide for a few minutes. They were hired professionals who never needed help.
“There’s water and hot coffee and snacks in the food tent,” she told the techies. “Help yourselves. It’s a little warmer in there.”
They thanked her and continued working. Hooray for techies, though this was their job and they were getting paid. She’d be more than happy to hand over their check tomorrow morning once the sound equipment was set up.
The sound equipment. She grinned and texted Maria:
There will be a sound check at the stage tomorrow morning. Want to sing, Prancer?
Maria’s reply came almost immediately.
Only if you do it with me!
Bailey started to text that she would be too busy. No, that she didn’t want to make a public fool out of herself. No …
An incoming video call took over the screen. It was Sammie. Ooh, was she calling with an update?
“Hey, Wright,” Bailey answered, and ducked around the stage.
“Hey, George.” Sammie was sitting in her work cubicle in a shiny yellow blouse. “I forgot to take our lunch off my calendar, and my phone pinged to remind me.”
“Oh.” Disappointment crashed through her excitement.
“But I needed to call you anyway.” Sammie tucked a pen behind her ear. “The Powers That Be want to set up an interview.”
Bailey’s mood did an about face and swung back to hopeful. “Definitely,” she said, pulse pounding in her ears.
“It’s for the Brooklyn office. You’ll do an initial virtual one-on-one with one of the partners. If it goes well, which I know it will, they’ll call you for the in-person.”
“I can do an in-person whenever,” Bailey said, to which Sammie smirked.
“Yeah, about that …” She peeked over her shoulder, then leaned in. “They kind of thought you’d be here today and would be able to swing by to say hello. When I mentioned you were stuck working on the festival committee … That didn’t do you any favors.”
Her heart sank into her stomach. “This was a fluke. I would never miss an interview.”
“I know you wouldn’t. But I also know the partners want dedicated employees who don’t get easily distracted.”
Not that Sammie was sugarcoating it, but her subtext rang loud and clear. “It looks bad that I missed coming to the city because of Winter Wonderfest,” Bailey said.
“You know how it is in the big city.” Sammie wiggled her eyebrows. “All work and no play. I made it sound like you keep your commitments, and it’s fine. They still really want to chat with you. It would’ve given you a leg up on the competition, that’s all. Get you in before they start interviewing. They want to hit the ground running in the new year.”
Damn it, this was what she’d been worried about. “I really wish I could’ve met them today,” Bailey said.
“It’s all good, George. Just don’t miss the interview because Town Hall needs to be repainted or whatever.”
“No way.”
Sammie typed off-screen on a keyboard. “You’ll get an email from one of our assistants to set it up. Let me know which partner you’re interviewing with. I’ll give you the inside scoop on them.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait to get you out of there. You need this.”
Was that ever the truth. “Thanks, Sammie. I really appreciate it.”
“You can thank me with champagne after your first sale.” Sammie focused on typing, then said, “Anyway, gotta go. Later, George.”
She hung up before Bailey could say goodbye. A text from Maria sat on her screen.
Going in! Wish me luck!
Crap, it was too late to reply now. She didn’t want Maria’s phone going off during her presentation.
Crap, she would’ve had an advantage if she’d met with Sammie in the city. And worse, staying behind in Lanford Falls told her prospective employers this little town festival was more important than her career. Than her dreams.
Ugh, crap, there were people trying to talk to the techies, like they were missing some big concert. And more people milling about the village green with steaming cups of cider and apple donuts. And was that the hibachi grill guy? No way. He wasn’t registered. She stalked toward the food vendors.
Crap, the tent really was crooked.
Crappity crap, she should be in New York right now, having lunch with Sammie and schmoozing potential bosses instead of here with the same old, same old.
Okay, that was not Hibachi Guy. But still, crap.
“Hey, Bailey?” Jane called at the same time Bailey’s phone rang. Uncle Bill. He never called unless it was major and work-related.
She held up a Wait a sec finger to Jane, then answered, “What’s wrong?”
“The Oak Avenue closing hit a snag,” Uncle Bill said.
“Define snag.”
“The buyers want the furnace replaced before they take possession.”
“That’s not my client, so I don’t know what was discussed in negotiations.”
“You know how to smooth these things over,” Uncle Bill said. “Can you get here? I’m listening in. It sounds like they might walk if this doesn’t get resolved.”
Bailey closed her eyes and tried not to groan. “Are you serious?”
“Helping both parties find a resolution is your specialty.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll be right there.” She didn’t mean to get snippy with him. Any other day, she’d be happy to intercede.
“Bailey?” Jane called again.
“Yes, Jane?” she exhaled.
“Is it too late for someone who wants to set up a food cart to register?” She nodded to Not Hibachi Guy.
Absolutely. “Not at all. Here.” Bailey tugged the clipboard out of her messenger bag. “I have to put out a fire at work. You are now the keeper of the clipboard.”
“But—”
“She who controls the clipboard controls the festival. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Her boots marched in time with her pulse. The weight of the week crashed in on her like never before. In previous years, she’d actively chosen to lead the festival committee. This year was under duress, plus she had confirmation it might wreck her chances at getting out.
Winter Wonderfest was ruining her life.
She trudged down Main Street, avoiding eye contact or shop windows. Someone gave her a “Happy holidays” she simply thumbs-upped in return.
She caught sight of the library across the street. Hopefully, Maria was having a better day. Maria deserved all the good things. She should get all the good things. She didn’t need a grouchy, discontented grump bringing her down.
Only I’m not grouchy around her.
Maria had been her saving grace this week. She would do a great job on her presentation and should celebrate her amazing awesomeness tonight.
Bailey paused at George Family Homes and straightened, shifting into work mode. Suck it up for Maria’s sake.
