“Maybe you can come by when she’s back and she can show you pictures,” I suggest.
Mrs. Klein nods happily. “I’d love that.”
More well-dressed women and their daughters enter Morton’s Cafe. It’s easy to tell they’re part of the event committee by how they stand and talk amongst each other.
“Jamie, this is Mrs. Fisher,” Mrs. Klein introduces. “She’s chair of our committee.”
I gulp as I take the striking woman’s hand. One of her daughters is Christie’s friend Meghan. A girl I remember taking part in many nasty pranks while she attended Ashworth Academy.
“Pleasure,” Mrs. Fisher says. “This is quite a cute little establishment.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Umm, are your daughters here?”
Mrs. Fisher hums a laugh. “Oh gosh, no. This is just a simple garden party. We don’t need many numbers to get this done.”
“Okay then.” My knees knock together as these wealthy women give me the once over. “Umm. I’ll get the video chat ready on the laptop.”
I hurry toward the counter and wake the idle laptop. Christie follows, a wary look on her face.
“You look frazzled,” Christie says, standing by me at the counter. “I recognize it because it’s how these women make me feel too.”
“Do you know the women here?” I ask, looking around at them chatting amongst themselves. “Tell me it gets easier to be around them.”
“Yeah, I know them from other events. I guess, once I got a handle on Mrs. Fisher, the rest were a piece of cake.” Christie fidgets as she gestures at a blonde girl and her mother. “Except, I don’t know these two. They were at the last meeting, but I didn’t have a chance to speak with them. As you’ve already experienced, I’m not the best at meeting new people.”
I watch the mother and daughter. “Are they new to town?”
“Not exactly. They live in Logan’s Point. Mrs. Garcia recently married a man from Victoria Falls. He encouraged them to join the events committee.”
“Garcia?” I question, looking at the Caucasian pair.
Christie snaps her fingers, squinting as she recalls information. “Yeah. Mr. Garcia’s daughter goes to our school. That horribly angry girl. Cammy, I think her name is?”
My jaw drops. “Camila? They’re related to Camila Garcia?”
I exhale rapidly, turning to the front door and spying out the windows, dreading the moment ragey Camila enters my cafe.
Christie leans in and whispers behind a cupped hand. “I don’t think they’re on good terms. Camila and her mother used to attend these meetings. Since her parents divorced and Mr. Garcia remarried, they haven’t been in attendance.”
My jitters ease. “Whoa. Like he replaced them?”
Christie leans back with her hands raised. “I don’t know. It’s just what I’ve observed.”
Tabitha leaves the booth and joins the rest of the ladies. The woman she stands next to is very clearly her mother. She’s two decades older, but her beauty shines through as much as Tabitha’s does.
I clear my throat and click on Maddy’s name in the chat screen. “Guess we’d better get this meeting started.”
After another failed attempt, I cross my fingers harder and call again. Relief floods my body as Aunt Maddy fills the screen. Her ponytail is a mess, concern is etched across her face, and her hotel room is her background.
“Finally,” she cheers. “Gosh, baby, it’s so good to see your face.”
“You too,” I reply. “The connection kept failing.”
“On my end too,” she replies and the picture glitches. “I’ve been trying to call since school finished. I wanted to ensure something like this didn’t happen.” Her head darts around. “Dang it. They’re already here?”
I wince. “Aunt Maddy, you keep glitching. Oh man, it’s the weather. We’re not getting a good signal.”
“I’ve never had such bad signals until I moved to the mountains,” Christie pipes up. She moves in front of the screen. “Hi again, Maddy.”
