It's a Fabulous Life, page 17
Bailey waved at two guys driving by in a park district van. “They’re bringing in the supplies for the snowman and wreath stations,” she said. “As soon as we get the checks, we can help Tom and Pete set them up.”
“Sounds good,” Maria said.
“Actually …” Bailey shifted her messenger bag. “I might have you help them while I start checking in the vendors.”
They crossed Main Street to the diner. The chalkboard menu declared Today’s Specials: Winter Wonderfest Waffles, White Bean Soup & Wildly Hot Wings.
Bailey paused at the entrance. She glanced down at Maria’s open, excited face. “Good morning, Maria Hatcher,” she said, trying to convey how much last night was still very much on her mind. If only she hadn’t been too exhausted to stay later than Maria’s parents …
“Good morning, Bailey George.” The way her lips quirked said she was thinking about it too. Another stolen kiss on a winter’s night, with the promise of more to come. “Thanks for fixing the lights on the bushes.”
“I didn’t. I unplugged them.”
“Wait, you didn’t plug them back in?”
Bailey shook her head. “No. Why?”
“They were on after you left last night. I thought you’d fixed them.”
“Not me.”
“Huh.” Maria crossed her arms. “I wonder who did. Maybe my dad.”
“Maybe.” Bailey had been too distracted replaying the way Maria’s soft lips had felt against hers to notice much of anything. “Or it was that Christmas spirit.”
“That’s who it was.” Maria gently squeezed her arm, and they went inside.
The diner was packed with hungry locals and festival-goers fueling up for the day. Bailey spotted Ellis where several tables had been pushed together. As she passed the counter, she noticed Nick putting in an order. “What are you doing here so early?” she asked.
“Filling in for the old man so he can go to the festival.” Nick gave Maria a chin nod. “Hey there, Maria Hatcher.”
“Hi, Saint Nick.” Maria gave him a little wave, hiding her coffee behind her back.
Ellis stood and held her arms out. “There she is. Our town savior.”
She started a round of applause that the Town Hall employees loudly joined. Bailey dipped her head in acknowledgment.
“I owe my sanity to this woman. Thanks a million for everything.”
“Glad I could help,” Bailey said, because what else was there to say?
The mayor rummaged around the large purse hanging on the back of her chair. “Let me know if any issues come up today. Not that I anticipate any problems with you in charge.”
She pulled out a white envelope and handed it over. All the checks to pay the remaining festival expenses. “It should be as smooth as it always is,” Bailey said, and slid the envelope in the front pocket of her bag.
“Let’s have lunch or dinner next week,” Ellis said. “You name the time and place. My treat.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
“It’s more than necessary.” She laughed and added, “Plus, I like hanging out with you.”
That made Bailey smile. “Okay.”
She accepted thanks and well wishes from a few people at the table. A mom stepped out of a nearby booth to help one of her kids cut up his waffle, so she and Maria had to go the long way around toward the exit.
“Ms. George,” a woman drawled behind her.
Bailey’s hackles went up. She turned to find Felicity hogging a booth all to herself. Two different newspapers covered the table. “Ms. Potter. Come to join the festivities?”
Felicity made a face. “I’m having my breakfast before things get too crowded.”
“You’d better hurry back to your castle. Town’s about to get overrun.”
“I do not enjoy the noise or children running every which way. I’m sure you can relate to wanting to skip the whole day.”
“People have fun,” Bailey said. “They enjoy themselves.”
“Yes, but do you enjoy any of it?” Felicity raised one thin gray eyebrow.
“Sure. The food, the band …” Mistletoe Grove. She glanced at Maria, who gave her a small smile.
Felicity closed the newspaper in her hands. “I will never understand your stubborn loyalty to this town. Lanford Falls holds you hostage, and every year the hold grows tighter and tighter. You’re trapped.”
Nothing could refute that, so Bailey didn’t say anything.
“You’re never going to experience life the way you want to. It’s … Well, to be frank, it’s sad. Such wasted opportunity.”
“I haven’t wasted anything,” Bailey said. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Of course not. You have friends.” The older woman deliberately settled her gaze on Maria.
Anger flashed sharp and hot. Maria was not going to get dragged into this. “I do have friends. There are good people in this town. People who deserve to live here. To be able to afford their dream home.”
“I see.”
“And you know what?” Bailey leaned in for emphasis. “I’m tired of having this argument with a warped, frustrated woman like you. You know I am never going to let you take over George Family Homes, so let it go. Let Lanford Falls be the happy place it is.”
With that, she marched across the diner. Maria hastened to catch up with her. Bailey shoved the door open, coffee sloshing out of her cup’s lid. Had she really referred to the Falls as a happy place? On the least happy day of her year?
“You’re amazing,” Maria said, giving her a look that bordered on adoring.
“Someone has to stand up to her,” Bailey said, heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Happy place. No, it wasn’t the place. It was the people. People like Maria. Her positive influence had a lot to do with defending Lanford Falls.
They stood at the corner and waited for traffic to clear. Having it out with Felicity was not the best way to kick off the day. Though it could be used as a fire—a catalyst to get motivated. Bailey was here of her own volition and was going to make this the hap-hap-happiest Wonderfest since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny freakin’ Kaye.
She nodded to herself so emphatically, Maria’s eyebrows met in confusion.
They hustled across the street and entered the village green. It teemed with day-of setup activity. Onstage, the sound tech checked one of the microphones nestled in a stand. Two park district vehicles were parked off the path. Boxes and plastic tubs littered the vendor stations.
Vince waved to her from near the food tent. Bailey raised her hand, then noticed the tent was still crooked. Maybe more crooked.
“Nobody fixed where it’s slanting in the back,” she said, pointing at the obvious slope.
He turned to see what she was talking about. “I thought my crew adjusted it.”
“It looks worse. Can you get on that ASAP? People are going to think it’s unstable.”
“It’s secure,” Vince said.
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“All right.” He called to two people on his crew.
Maria studied the tent and said, “They must’ve adjusted it in the wrong direction.”
Bailey gestured with her coffee down to the activity stations. “If you can help set those up, I’ll get started on my high-priority list.”
“Okay.” Maria gave her that smile that melted her insides. “Have fun today.”
“Right,” Bailey snorted.
“I’m serious. Have fun. That’s what today is all about.”
“That’s what tomorrow is all about.” She nudged Maria with her to-go cup.
“Maybe it’s what tonight could be about,” Maria murmured. “At Mistletoe Grove.”
Bailey grinned at the thought of some canoodling under the mistletoe. “I like the way you think.”
Someone cleared their throat loudly behind her. A twenty-something white guy in ripped jeans and a leather biker jacket. His hair was dyed Goth black. “I heard you’re the one with our payment,” he said.
“That depends,” Bailey said. “Who are you?”
“Dustin. Of Dusty Dreams.”
“Of course.” That was the band she’d hired. “Thanks so much for—”
“We get paid before our gigs, so …” He held out a hand.
“Sure.” The band had come highly recommended, so she wasn’t too concerned about them taking the money and running. “You’re welcome to start setting up around six o’clock. The concert is slated to begin at seven.”
“We’ll be ready,” Dustin said. “Dusty Dreams is always ready.”
Dusty Dustin is rather full of himself. Bailey slid her hand inside the pouch on her messenger bag. Huh. The envelope wasn’t there.
She passed her coffee to Maria so she could use both hands to check the front pocket. It was empty other than a tube of lip balm and two pens.
“What’s wrong?” Maria asked.
“I could’ve sworn I …” No matter. She searched the main compartment. The envelope wasn’t immediately visible. She took out the clipboard. It wasn’t stuck on there.
Bailey fished through the bag, but it just had the usual odds and ends. No envelope. What the hell?
“Is there a problem?” Dustin drawled.
“Just need to get your check,” Bailey said, fighting to keep her tone even.
“I saw you put it in your bag,” Maria said.
“I always put it in my bag.” Ellis had handed her the envelope, and Bailey had placed it in the front pocket. Her memory wasn’t so bad as to forget five minutes ago.
The sound techie approached them. Bailey recognized him, but couldn’t place his face to his name. “Hey, good morning,” he said in a deep baritone. “I just finished sound check. We’re ready to rock and roll. Can I snag the checks for me and the lighting guy before it gets too hectic?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’m getting the checks out now. Just having a bit of trouble finding them.”
“If we don’t get paid, we don’t play,” Dustin sneered.
“I have your check.” Bailey looked to him, then Sound Tech Guy. “Both your checks. They’re in here somewhere.”
She looked through her entire messenger bag again. Flipped through every paper attached to the clipboard.
“I …” She checked one coat pocket. Just her phone. The other pocket only had Lulu’s treats. Where the hell was the envelope?
“I didn’t give it to you?” she said to Maria, then added, “Why would I give it to you?”
Maria set their coffee cups on the path and checked her coat pockets. She shook her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Bailey said to the guys. “I know I have it. I’m not sure where it went.”
“Maybe it fell out between Martin’s and here,” Maria said.
“It must have.” Bailey searched all around them. Maria crouched and stared down the length of the paved path.
Sound Tech Guy waved a hand. “No biggie. We’ll take ours whenever you find them.”
Dustin gave him a look. “I have stuff to do before the gig. I can’t wait around for you to find a check. Who still writes checks? Join the modern world.”
“Settle down, Millennial.” Sound Tech Guy glared at him.
Anxiety ramped up in Bailey’s chest. This had never happened before. She was far too organized and reliable. “Give me a minute to retrace my steps. It’s probably lying on the floor in the diner.”
Dustin rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. Sound Tech Guy repeated it was no big deal for him.
Maria walked along one edge of the path as Bailey scoured the other. Snow, snow, snow, but no white envelope.
Nothing but brick sidewalk outside the village green entrance. The madrigal singers came from Caffeinated Corner with snacks and beverages. Bailey barely acknowledged their hellos.
“It has to be in the diner,” she said. “I must’ve missed the pouch on my bag, and it’s sitting by Ellis’s chair.”
“That makes sense,” Maria said.
They stared down at Main Street, at the sidewalk, at the tiled floor inside Martin’s. The Town Hall employees looked surprised to see them.
“Did you come back to join us?” Ellis asked. “We’re all finished, but—”
“Did I accidentally drop the envelope of checks?” Bailey said. “I can’t seem to find it.”
Ellis glanced around her seat. “I don’t see it.”
The people near her scooted back and checked the floor. Nothing but a jelly packet and crumpled napkin. Maria searched the tabletops while panic bubbled inside Bailey.
“Let me check my purse,” Ellis said, grabbing it off her chair.
“I know you gave it to me.”
“It might’ve fallen into this bottomless pit.”
She fished around her purse to no avail. Maria and Bailey squatted to see if it had skittered under a neighboring table. The Town Hall employees asked other diners if they’d seen it.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Ellis said. “Though I don’t like to have a bunch of checks floating out there. If you don’t find them, we’ll cancel them.”
The town treasurer waved from the opposite end of the tables. “I can cut you new ones before the end of the day,” she said.
“Our band for the finale wants payment now,” Bailey said. “The guy said he’ll walk.”
“I guess I can run to Town Hall and cut him another check.” The treasurer checked her smartwatch. “That’ll take some time, though.”
Ellis held up a hand. “I don’t want to write new checks until we know for sure. It couldn’t have gone far.”
Maria touched Bailey’s arm. “Let’s retrace our steps again. It’s probably somewhere ridiculous outside.”
“I am so sorry,” Bailey told the mayor. “I don’t know what could’ve happened.”
“It’s okay,” Ellis said. “It’ll turn up.”
Bailey circled the diner one more time. Felicity was gone, and it wasn’t around her table.
Maria met her at the entrance, shaking her head. “No dice.”
They exited Martin’s. Bailey looked beneath the chalkboard menu. When she straightened, Felicity was standing in front of her. “Problem?” she said.
“Not now,” Bailey growled.
“You seem distraught, Ms. George. Did something happen?”
“It’s none of your concern.”
“My goodness, you’re irritable.” Felicity tucked her newspapers under one arm. “And you called me warped and frustrated.”
“Oh, go away,” Maria said. “Come on, Bailey.” She tugged Bailey’s hand to search the gutter running along Main Street.
“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Felicity called.
They ignored her, checking here and there and everywhere. No. Freaking. Envelope.
Worry snaked through her body. What if someone had found it and taken it? A bunch of checks written from municipal funds could be disastrous in the wrong hands.
The missing envelope was Immediate Problem Number One. Immediate Problem Number Two lurked inside the village green entrance. Dustin had his arms crossed, looking like A Very Emo Christmas. The last thing she needed was some dude acting like he was headlining Lollapalooza instead of a small town festival.
Bailey pasted on the smile she used when a homebuyer was being unreasonable. “Dustin, hi. Thanks so much for your patience. Our treasurer will cut you a new check if you can wait just a bit longer.”
He blew a puff of air through his lips.
“If that doesn’t work for your schedule, we can give it to you tonight.”
“That’s not how Dusty Dreams rolls.” He shook his head. “I knew this was a bad gig. We got asked by a bunch of companies to do their holiday parties this weekend. They’re willing to pay big.”
“We will pay you,” Bailey insisted. “I’m asking for a little patience.”
“It is the holidays,” Maria added.
Dustin pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Yeah. People are desperate. I don’t need this hassle.”
He started to walk away, but Bailey blocked his path. “Please. I’ll pay you with my credit card.”
He paused, eyebrows raised.
“If I had my wallet with me.” Shit. All she had was a twenty she’d shoved in her jeans pocket for food. She couldn’t ask Maria to cover the cost. “I could Venmo you.”
“Forget it.” He made a slicing motion across his throat. “Dusty Dreams out.”
“Dustin …” Bailey watched his departure, helpless to stop him.
“Dustin’s a dick,” Maria said.
“A dick with a talented band. What are we going to do now? We don’t have a finale.”
“We’ll think of something.”
Bailey pulled out her clipboard and flipped through the papers. “The only other musical act is KidTunes, the kiddie music performers. That’s all prerecorded tracks. The other stage acts are the guy who makes balloon animals and the local dance studio with little tap and ballet dancers. Not exactly showstoppers.”
“Does it have to be music? Maybe there’s a folksy storyteller who can read a Christmas classic? Or …” Maria glanced around at all the activity. “I don’t know. A local band, or a singer-songwriter? An artist-in-residence somewhere? A church choir?”
“Didn’t Kurt see some drag queens the other day?” Bailey said. “It’d be nice to have them now.”
Jane practically skipped across the snow the greet them. Her head was covered with an oversized striped stocking cap that grazed the top of her glasses. “Merry Winter Wonderfest! How’s it going? Have you checked in the vendors yet?”
“No. Something else came up.” Bailey held out the clipboard. “Would you be able to do it? I’d appreciate it.”
“Oh no.” Jane quickly sobered. “Is everything okay?”
“We just lost our band for the finale.”
“What? Dusty Dreams canceled? That’s so unprofessional.”
“Dustin thinks he’s too good for us. We need to find a last-minute replacement.”
Jane shook her head, her knit stocking wiggling back and forth. “This week has been a nightmare.”
“No kidding,” Bailey grumbled.
Vince joined them. “One of the tent’s support poles is bent. My crew can’t mess with it with everything set up. But the guylines are holding tight.”
