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“Wow. That looks great.”
“Just doing my job.” He finished setting a piece, then straightened. “You did a good job picking out the tile.”
“And you’re doing a fabulous job installing everything. On Thanksgiving.” She met his gaze. “I feel so guilty.”
He snorted. “I’ve worked on Thanksgiving for over ten years. It’s just another day.”
It was sad he felt that way, but given his military background, she understood. Still…
“I wish you had come with me to my dad’s.”
Glancing at her from where he worked, he shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, how would you have explained that?”
Confused, she stared at him. Did he know about the Butterflies and how they had him all picked out as her next big romance? She’d threatened them with bodily harm if they bothered him at Hamilton House, but she wouldn’t put it past them to have found a way. They were sneaky like that.
“Me going to Thanksgiving dinner with you.” He shook his head as if the idea was inconceivable. “Everyone would have made incorrect assumptions.”
The Butterflies would have, because that’s what they did. But other people would have seen it for what it was. Friendship. Nothing more.
Right?
“Friends go to dinners with each other,” she reminded.
“Maybe,” he conceded, but didn’t look convinced. “Everything go okay?”
She nodded. “It went great, except I don’t think Dad wanted me to leave. This is the first Thanksgiving without Aunt Jean, which is difficult enough, but also the first Thanksgiving I’ve not lived at home.”
Her father had let that little tidbit slip out in his conversation over dinner. She’d been so busy focusing on the positive, on getting ready for the festival, on preparing for the grand opening, she hadn’t thought about her dad missing having her there.
“He’s taking my moving out harder than I thought he would,” she said.
“It’s just been the two of you for years?”
She nodded. “Since Mom passed. I think he feels closer to her when I’m around.”
Still, she was twenty-five. She should’ve moved out long ago. But none of that changed how guilty she’d felt when he’d asked if she had to head back to Hamilton House so soon, even though she knew he wanted her to live her own life and just missed her.
Bodie stared a moment, then glanced at the shower. “I better get back to work. I have a drill sergeant of a boss.”
“Yeah, right. She’s the worst,” Sarah agreed with a smile. Then she remembered the food her dad had sent with her. “Have you eaten?”
He stopped to think a moment, then shrugged. “Lunch.”
She frowned. “Lunch was hours ago. You need to eat. I brought leftovers.”
“I’m not eating the leftovers, Sarah.” At her look of disbelief, he continued. “I mean, I don’t want to eat food intended for you.”
“Seriously, you should. There’s no way I’ll eat it all. I’ll barely even be home for the next few days. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be swamped with revamps to the church’s website and getting Christmas event schedules printed. Then, I have a ton of things to do for the Christmas festival.” Excitement filled her. She loved the Christmas festival. The event was always magical. “I can’t believe it’s almost here. Hopefully, the booth will do well again this year.”
“I don’t see how it couldn’t do well with all the snowflakes you’ve made.” He didn’t look up from where he’d gone back to working on the shower tiles.
“What if no one wants snowflakes this year? What if they are snowflaked out?”
Turning, he cocked a brow. “Has it been a problem in the past?”
She shook her head. “But I’ve only been in charge of the booth since Maybelle retired. She’s the lady you thought was me that first day,” she added when she realized that although she talked about the Butterflies, he’d only met them on the one occasion, so he didn’t know to which one she referred. “I only took over two years ago.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. And if not, you can focus on new ornaments for next year’s sale, or some other Christmas thing, and use the snowflakes as backup items.”
