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Chapter Six
Seymour
June 18th…
“Be a dear and take this to that customer over there,” Ella kindly orders as she hands me a pie, taking the choice from me. She’s a sweet lady and doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Or so I thought until I discovered Ella is the ringleader of the find a Hottie for Hannah ploy.
“I’m helping Hannah,” I tell her, hoping to get out of it. It’s true, but that’s not the only reason I don’t want to go. I’ve made it my mission to stick to Hannah like glue. Gorilla glue. Quite a few of the older ladies have stopped at Hannah’s booth to purchase items and subtly mention any and all of the single men in their spheres. Some have even brought pictures, wanting to show Hannah what she’d be getting if she gave them a chance.
The nerve.
She and I haven’t truly had a moment to speak alone since a week prior to the fair starting. Hannah was busy doing last-minute projects, including a couple she’d just come up with that she wanted to use this event as a test run for. And once it officially opened, her station has been swamped non-stop. If the customer isn’t from here, they’re from out of state, having traveled long distances to see her.
As much as I want to square things away between us – that being that I forbid her to date any man that isn’t me – I refuse to interrupt her during this. She’s flourishing and I couldn’t be prouder of her.
She’s taken something she loves doing and not only turned it into a business but is excelling at it. I have a feeling she’ll be opening that shop here like Enola suggested and her door will become a revolving one because people will constantly be coming and going. She’ll have a hard time maintaining her stock.
Hell, she might need to hire helpers, teach them how to make some of the stuff to give her a break. So she doesn’t break from trying to do it all. Which I do believe she’ll attempt because she feels as if she has to prove something to herself. And just maybe to her parents.
We’ve talked about hers and mine. I truly believe hers love her in their way, but they don’t necessarily understand her. Mine, however, I don’t think they know what the word means. It hurt for a while, their lack of affection throughout my life, yet my grandpa – and my grandma before we lost her – more than made up for it.
I want this woman to know her worth, to know she’s everything.
Haven’t exactly shown her that, have you?
Fuck me.
I’m smart. You should listen to me more.
Then tell me how the hell to fix this.
**Hannah**
This day, this whole week, has been great. I’ve gone through almost all my inventory, taken orders for personalized pieces that need to be custom made, got ideas for new items I can make. It’s been a resounding success.
Professionally, I’m on top of the world.
Personally, though, I’m confused. I thought – no, I know – Seymour is attracted to me and while there have been instances where we started to act on that mutual feeling, nothing came of it. It is and has been frustrating. It has me doubting my instincts, doubting myself.
And finally, doubting him.
Some of the residents have taken to arranging “surprise” meetings between me and a few men. Mostly, visiting nephews, friends of their family, a son, etc. The perpetrators always act as if they’re shocked to see me.
Like I hadn’t seen one of them walk by me sitting at Ella’s Eats, wave at me, then return within ten minutes, a single guy accompanying them.
Or they hadn’t called to ask if I’d be home to discuss a potential order, then bring a bachelor with them. Fancy seeing you here. It took all I had in me to not roll my eyes and point out that they were in my home.
Another had scheduled a get together with my grandma, stating they’d probably imbibe in some afternoon wine while discussing their favorite titles during their book club, and suggesting that I provide transportation for her.
That woman lived at the end of our block, so my grandma could’ve easily walked there and back as, at the most, she would’ve consumed a glass. A drinker she was not, regardless of the type of alcohol or liquor offered. It just so happened, when I helped my grandma, who had suddenly required assistance to get inside, the nephew of the owner was there to drop off a gallon of milk his aunt had desperately needed.
She’s lactose intolerant.
Wise to their meddling yet well-meaning ways, I finally had to break down and mention to the group at large that I was interested in someone and their attempts were unnecessary.
They’d shared a look with Ella who’d offered to keep me company as I exited the house. That was, of course, a ruse to inform me Seymour – she assumed that’s who I was subtly referring to – had been answering their questions as to my likes and dislikes.
Spoiler alert…I disliked that information.
