“I guess it all depends on how many people come tonight,” I replied.
He nodded slowly, evidently unconvinced.
???
By dusk, waiting had become torture. Every minute crawled. I tried cleaning. I tried showering. I even tried napping, but mybrain spun in frantic circles. What if no one came? What if Claire was right, and I just embarrassed myself in front of the entire town?
And when seven o’clock rolled around, my nerves were frayed and exposed. I tugged on a clean blouse, dragged my hair into a ponytail, and marched toward Marigold’s without Easton by my side. He had simply blinked at me, belly up on the couch, when I pulled out his leash again and tried to coax him to the door.
I didn’t blame him.
The warm glow of lights from behind the papered windows spilled onto the sidewalk as I approached. My heart lurched. From outside, I could already hear the murmur of voices.Lotsof voices.
I pushed the door open.
Marigold’s was packed. Farmers, shopkeepers, teenagers, parents with toddlers. Frank was busy talking shop with Rhett as they both gesticulated toward the wall that once gushed with water. Rachel and Margot appeared to be making an awkward attempt at a conversation. Even Dot was perched on the windowsill, gossiping at full volume.
They had come.
Janice waved at me from beside the floral cooler. “Georgie! You’re late to your own meeting.”
I laughed shakily, fighting the lump in my throat. “Are you surprised?”
When I stepped inside, the crowd hushed, as if waiting with bated breath for what I had to say. I smiled, greeting some with a hug as I jostled through the crowd and toward the back of the shop. Emma, clinging to her mother’s leg, sent me a wide grin from beneath her lashes as I ruffled her curls.
Behind the counter, I wrung my hands together and cleared my throat. “Thank you all for coming—”
“We can’t hear you!” Someone shouted again from the back.
I groaned internally.
“Alright, I—” Gripping the edge of the counter, I tried to lift my body up while what felt like a hundred eyes watched. Sothatwas why people worked out. “Let me just…”
“Here,” a deep voice appeared to my right, “Let me help.”
I met Rhett’s eyes and flushed beet red as I nodded. “Thanks—”
With surprising alacrity, he grabbed my waist and hoisted me to the counter like a feather. His hands were firm and startlingly steady, and when he let go, the heat of his touch lingered and burned like a fresh tattoo. Whispers ricocheted through the crowd.
And now half the town had seen it too. If I wasn’t nervous before, now I certainly was.
“Thank you all for coming,” I started, knees wobbling as I stood. “Can you hear menow?” I added weakly.
A small laugh rippled through the shop.
“I know we were all devastated by the news that the carnival company was backing out. Up until this morning…” I swallowed. Why hadn’t I written anything down? The words were coming out too thin, too shaky, and Dot’s exaggerated sigh from the window nearly knocked the air out of me. A couple people shifted on their feet. Someone coughed.
For a horrible second, I thought I might actually bolt. I had never crowd surfed before. But there was a first time for everything.
“I’m going to start over,” I said with a weak smile. “Look, Bluebell Cove is—”
The shop door jingled. Joe slipped through, ducking his head as some turned to greet him. Our eyes met across the room. He was just like I had been—quietly struggling and barely keeping his head above water.
I wanted him to know what I wished I had.
“I grew up in Bluebell Cove,” I began again, a fresh steadiness in my voice. “My mother left me here when I was a baby, in the care of my grandmother—Marigold. Many of you knew her. She was vibrant, and colorful, and always ready with a helping hand to anyone who needed it.”
It was so quiet I was sure they could hear my racing heartbeat.
