Chapter14
The knock on her cottage door pulled Cassidy away from the spreadsheet she’d been updating.She’d been cross-referencing vendor quotes with the festival budget, but her mind kept drifting to the dinner at The Sandpiper and the way Bryan had looked at her across the table.
She opened the door to find two women she’d seen around the lighthouse cottages standing on her porch.
“We heard you’re running the festival,” one woman said, holding out her hand.“I’m Emily, and this is Melissa.”
“Co-chairing,” Cassidy corrected automatically.
“Same thing.”The other woman—Melissa, was it?—shifted her camera bag to her other shoulder.“We thought you might need help.”
She blinked.Help.People kept offering that here.The concept still felt foreign.
“Come in.”She stepped back to let them pass.
Emily settled onto the couch while Melissa prowled the room, eyeing the light through the windows with the critical assessment of someone who saw the world in exposures and compositions.
“What did you have in mind?”she asked.
“I could set up a photo booth,” Melissa said.“I’ve got the equipment.Could do instant prints, maybe a digital share option too.”
“That’s actually perfect.”She grabbed her notebook.“We need more interactive elements.Something that creates memories people want to share.”
“I was thinking I could paint some backgrounds,” Emily added.“Instagram-worthy stuff with the festival name.Might not help much this year, but when people post photos later, it spreads awareness for next time.”
She paused mid-note.Next time.Emily was thinking about the festival’s future, not just the immediate event.
“That would be incredible,” she said.“Both of those ideas.Thank you.”
“We want to do whatever we can to help.Just ask if you need anything else.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“We’re neighbors.”Emily shrugged like it was obvious.“This is what we do.”She got up and headed toward the door.Cassidy stood with them on the front porch.A man was working on one of the other cottages, replacing a section of railing.She’d seen him around but never spoken to him.
“Who’s that?”Cassidy gestured toward the man with the tools.
“Cliff.”Emily followed her gaze.“Winnie’s nephew.He keeps to himself mostly.”
“Unless he’s telling me where I can and can’t take photographs,” Melissa muttered.
Emily laughed.“You two are going to have to work that out someday.”
They wandered off toward their own cottages, and Cassidy stood there taking in the scene with the lighthouse rising against the blue sky.The neat cottages were arranged like protective arms around the garden, and the sound of waves drifted in the air..
All these people.Sally, Jan, the Harbor Ladies, and Bryan’s family.And now Emily and Melissa.They’d woven her into their lives so easily, like she’d always belonged here.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Everything okay, sweetie?
Her mother.Again.The second text this week asking the same careful question.
She stared at the message.Her mother had been asking variations of that question for months now.Maybe years.Are you sleeping?Are you eating?When was the last time you took a real day off?
Questions Cassidy had deflected with reassurances and the occasional white lie.
She looked at the phone in her hand, then at the lighthouse, and finally at the garden where she’d sat with Winnie drinking tea and talking about things that mattered.
