My lips twisted into an uncomfortable grimace as her fingers grazed one of my first-ever pottery creations.
“Did you drop this one before it got to the oven?” Margot muttered as she held it up to the window.
“Kiln,” I corrected. “And no. That one was all me.”
She quickly set it down and moved to a cream bottleneck vase with black splatters. There were many more like it at Marigold’s, but that was my first successful attempt. “You know, you’re good at this.”
I shrugged. “It’s a fun hobby.”
Margot looked up with narrowed eyes. “You know I don’t blow smoke, Georgie—you could really sell these. You’re on par with boutique artists in New York.”
“That’s probably because it’s so easy,” I snorted, which earned me another glare.
“I’m serious. Why don’t you sell them?”
My neck flushed red. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” I snapped, then sighed. “I ownMarigold’s Flower Shop. That’s what I do.”
Margot’s voice lost its usual edge. “Obviously.”
Silence stretched.
“Can we just focus on the festival?” I said finally.
She nodded.
???
“Now this… is an Excel spreadsheet.”
I shuddered. “Is this some sort of cruel torture device?”
Margot rolled her eyes and shifted on her floor cushion. “Believe it or not, Ilikethis.” She positioned my tablet upright between us on the coffee table and scrolled with her finger. “There’s a tab for everything on here. Volunteers, decorations, food vendors, booths—all you have to do is input them.”
“I’m pretty sure Janice never used anything like this,” I mumbled pathetically, frown deepening as the endless slots to fill made my head spin.
“It doesn’t matter what Janice did, Georgie. You’re in charge now.” My stomach churned at the well intentioned but less-than-comforting words. “You have a lot of good ideas. You just need to… organize them,” she added.
Margot once understood me better than anyone. Having both been born in Bluebell Cove, we’d practically been friends since birth. Her mother, Ruth, was probably one of the few people who knew my mom.Reallyknew her. Better than I did, at least.
I had lost count of the ways things had changed since they all left.
Margot, Teddy, Serena and Wes seemed to think I stayed behind because I failed to launch. That, somehow, taking care of myself and a business with no family to speak of waseasierthan leaving town.
Margot tapped the screen with her manicured nail. “Uh-oh,” she said with a sigh.
My head snapped up. “What do you mean, uh-oh? You can’t say uh-oh without an immediate explanation.”
She scrolled, squinting at the volunteer tab. “You still don’t have anyone to man the ticket booth for the Ferris wheel.”
I groaned and pressed both palms into my cheeks. “Of course I forgot about the ticket booth for one of the most important parts of the festival.”
Margot’s expression softened, but her tone was brisk. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure we can find someone. You’ve got people signed up for decorations, food vendors, even cleanup. That’s harder to fill than tickets.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, tugging the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “You get to swoop in with your miracle spreadsheets and fix things.”
Her brows rose. “Or maybeyoudo. This is your event, Georgie. Call someone.”
My stomach did a nervous somersault. The only people who came to mind were already overcommitted. Then another name rose unbidden, and I immediately squashed it down.
