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“Not really. I don’t know what she expected. She knew I’d eventually have to start attending some classes in person. This is just the beginning.”
“Do you see yourself moving there? Eventually?”
She nodded. “I mean, I’m going to have to, aren’t I?”
“Do you think Daya will move with you?” I asked, looking down at the list of food truck vendors in front of me. “I mean, her job—?”
Jamie just lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, not even looking up from her work. I guess moving to Indianapolis meant Daya might get left behind.
She wasn’t the only one.
I chewed my thumbnail, trying to imagine what my life might be like when Jamie made the inevitable move. Hopefully, I’d have my own place by then.
But I would feel so alone in this town without her. We fought like cats and dogs sometimes when we were teenagers, but adulthood brought us closer. Now that most of my old friends were married with kids or scattered across the state—wherever their jobs carried them—Jamie was my person. Even before we were living together, we spoke nearly every day. We would still be able to do that, I supposed, but the distance would pull us apart in more ways than one.
With Jamie gone, all I would have left to focus on was my work. I guess that gave me even more reason to pour my heart into this fall festival project, to impress Sarah. I went back to work, deciding not to press the moving issue. Or the Daya issue.
I was studying a map of the school grounds Sarah had given me when my phone buzzed on the arm of the couch beside me.
Mason: Working on this sketch and I’ve got a few questions. Might be easier to just talk on the phone. Is it ok to call?
Mason: I promise to keep it professional.
Rather than tell Jamie, I showed her the messages on my screen. She shook her head and grinned. “He’s just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”
I held my phone against my chin, trying not to smile. “Probably.” I sent Mason a quick message to let him know it was ok to call and excused myself to my room—I knew better than to talk to him with Jamie so close. She’d probably make moaning noises to ensure I was good and embarrassed.
He called the second my bedroom door closed.
“Sorry, I know it’s a little late. I just put Finley to bed and wanted to get started on this.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m working on fall festival stuff right now myself.” I sat on my bed and pulled my knees up to my chest.
“So, first question.” He cleared his throat. “I need an idea of what exactly this fall festival entails. Are we talking carnival rides and games, or like—bobbing for apples and shit?”
I grinned down at my knees, amused that “shit” still made it into his vernacular when he was trying to keep it professional. “Something in between. There will be a hayride and bouncy castles and games and pumpkin carving. Oh, and a pumpkin slingshot—that was kind of a big deal last year.” I lay on my back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “No bobbing for apples, but there will be a caramel apple booth, which is hands-down the best part.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Mason said. I thought for a second I’d been talking too fast and he was about to ask me to repeat myself, but he let out a little chuckle and said, "You’re telling me there’s a pumpkin slingshot, but the caramel apples are the best part?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s my favorite part, anyway.”
“Even better than a hayride?”
“I didn’t get to participate in that stuff last year because I was too busy volunteering. So maybe I’m a little biased—but the caramel apples are literally the only part I’m looking forward to, personally.”
“So what I’m hearing is that there’d better be a damn caramel apple in this t-shirt design, is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“Gotcha.” I could hear the sound of his pen on the paper as he took notes. He asked me a couple more questions—did I want a full-color design, what were the details of the event. Et cetera. There were pauses here and there as he took time to write down everything I told him. “So you’ve got a little more than four weeks to plan this thing, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, rolling over onto my stomach. “Sarah asked me to take over this year—she’s busy planning her wedding, so I’m just… going to do my best not to screw it up.”
“You’re not going to screw it up,” he said. “I guarantee a couple of things will go wrong, because that’s life, but as long as there’s a bouncy castle, every kid in attendance is going to be more than happy.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. It doesn’t take much to make kids happy. I mean—Finley spent an hour playing with the cardboard box my mom’s new dishwasher came in tonight. So—got any extra boxes?”
