“It had white velvet inside. It was really pretty. And Stacy unlocked the door.”
“And inside was a picnic on the floor. With a white tablecloth and candles and a basket of food.” The girl sighed loudly.
“And the mayor gave everyone a glass of champagne. I had a sip. It was wonderful!”
“Stacy was so happy she was in tears. She was hugging her parents hard.”
“And what did Nate say?” the first knitting lady asked.
“He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look too happy. I thought he liked boats better.”
“But he carried Stacy over the threshold, then she shut the door so they could be alone.” At that image, the girls giggled in a suggestive way.
The third girl gave Terri a sly look. “I thought he liked you.”
The first knitting lady stepped forward. “Does your mother know you’ve been drinking alcoholic beverages?”
“She’s too busy drinking herself to notice what I do,” the girl said with another giggle, then the three of them turned and ran away.
“They’re never too young to start being bitches, are they?” the third lady said.
“Terri...” the first knitting lady began.
She turned on the ladder to look down at them. “Nate and I are friends. Got it? I’ve always known he was engaged. There’s never been anything between us of a...a romantic nature. Friends. That’s all.” She turned back to the tent and began stapling.
Behind her, the three ladies looked at each other in sadness, then went back to unloading boxes.
Good! Terri told herself. She was succeeding at keeping her feelings under cover. Considering how she’d lost it this morning, she was proud of herself. After she’d sat outside and indulged herself in useless memories of the past, she’d given herself a pep talk. Think of the future, not the past! But then, she’d walked into a barren kitchen and realized that Nate was gone. Really and truly gone. Everything had hit her with the weight of an outboard falling onto her and she’d burst into tears. Of course that was when her father and Uncle Frank and Elaine had decided to show up with her favorite cream-filled doughnuts. Elaine had immediately taken Terri into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.
“I knew it was coming so I shouldn’t be upset,” Terri said. “Nate and I are friends, that’s all. I knew that from the beginning.”
Elaine had been silent, but her face t
old her thoughts. Nate was no longer their darling savior.
When Terri went back into her living room, she had recovered—on the surface, at least. It took only a glance at the two men to see that they were furious, and it was up to her to make things right. “You caught me at the wrong time,” Terri said, then went into a defense of Nate. She could tell that they weren’t really listening to her. And their support made her feel better. She grabbed three doughnuts and ran down to her boat. What she needed was so much work that she couldn’t think.
And she’d done well until the girls decided to tell her the details of Nate and his bride-to-be. She looked back at the tent she was supposed to be repairing and could hardly focus.
“Terri!” a man yelled. “Two people are trying to put up their tents on the same lot. It looks like there might be a fight.”
Terri got down from the ladder, handed the staple gun to the man, said, “Finish that,” then started running.
“I have my own booth to set up,” he called after her. But then he looked back at the three ladies in their pretty hand-knit tops of pale pink, blue and lavender, and gave a sigh. “So what needs to be done?”
By the time Terri got to the cabin, Frank was already there—and he looked as furious as he had been earlier. “Your father gave two people the same booth space.”
“I signed up forty-eight hours after registration opened,” a tall young man was shouting at a little woman.
She wasn’t intimidated. Her head was tilted back until it nearly touched her spine. “So did I. And you know it, because I saw you there.”
Terri looked at Frank. “Who was first?”
“Your dad clocked them at the same time, same everything. Identical twins at war.”
Terri looked at the stacked boxes. The man’s booth was for handblown glass. Tall, artistic vases. Bowls with jewel-like colors in the bottom. Hers were pot holders and birdhouses and other crafts made by disabled children. While charming, they weren’t exactly artworks. There couldn’t be two booths more different.
“Is there room for them side by side?”