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Becca had a fleeting image of Mrs. Cavett and Mrs. Milton huddled around a platter of shrimp cocktail and ignoring the customers while they gorged.
“I’m sorry you’re hungry, Mrs. Cavett. I should have recommended that you eat dinner before you came. I didn’t even think about snacks, since the shifts are only two hours long.”
Mrs. Cavett tsked. Then she took a hold of Becca’s upper arm as if for emphasis.
“Sweetheart, the mark of a good hostess is to always feed your guests or, in this case, your volunteers.”
“The only problem is this is a fund-raiser. We didn’t really have a budget for volunteer snacks. But I do appreciate your input. And, hey, maybe next year we can organize a committee to get food donations or maybe the volunteers could each bring some finger food. May I count on you to coordinate the volunteer treats for us next year?”
“Becca, darling, you don’t burden your volunteers by asking them to bring food.”
She could see this conversation was going nowhere fast. She’d have better luck arranging a Radio City Music Hall gig for Miss Jeannie’s dancing reindeer than trying to get Mrs. Cavett to see things her way. Becca swallowed her indignation.
“Thank you for your input, Mrs. Cavett. I’ll pass along your helpful notes to next year’s committee.”
Of course, she was the sole member of next year’s committee.
Becca was thrilled to see Mrs. Milton barreling toward them...looking and sounding like a rampant reindeer who had broken loose from Santa’s sleigh, in her brown muumuu and jingle bell necklace, complete with matching earrings.
Even before she arrived, it was clear that Mrs. Milton was coming over to join the criticism choir. Becca knew she’d better disengage now before the two women had her cornered.
“Hi, Mrs. Milton. I’m sorry, but I have to run. I have to get over to the stage to make sure everything is in order for the tree lighting.”
As she walked away, Becca wondered who was manning the holiday shop, but she knew if she went back to ask she’d never get away.
Instead, she detoured over to the concession area and bought a bottle of water. It was the first moment she’d had since lunch to stop and take a break, and she was tired. She was scanning the crowd to see if she could spot Nick, when she saw Kate, who seemed to have the same idea as she did, only with hot chocolate.
“Someday we are going to hire someone else to handle this shindig so we can go Black Friday shopping,” said Kate.
“Right. Whose brilliant idea was this to do the tree lighting on the day after Thanksgiving?” Becca smiled. “Oh, yeah, her name is Kate Thayer. She’s worse than the Grinch who stole Christmas.”
“I hear she’s fabulous,” Kate said. “A true visionary.”
Becca rolled her eyes and laughed.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all day,” Kate said. “How did Thanksgiving with your parents go?”
Becca rubbed her hands over her eyes and sighed. “Which do you want to hear about first? The part where Aunt Millie tried to force-feed Nick pumpkin pie? The one where my mom announced to everyone that she would make sure Nick and I got married before next Thanksgiving? Or the grand finale where I told off my mother?”
Kate’s jaw dropped. “And why didn’t you invite me to Thanksgiving? This is like Thanksgiving dinner theater. All we had was a boring dinner with turkey and stuffing. Although, the dessert Liam and I shared was particularly delicious this year, if you know what I mean.”
Kate waggled her eyebrows.
“And I’m the one who ends up pregnant with twins.”
Kate shrugged, and for a moment Becca thought she glimpsed a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Becca asked.
“I’m fine. We have about ten minutes before we have to head over to the stage. I want to hear everything. Especially the part about you telling your mother off. I never thought I’d live to see the day that happened. I’d ask if you’d been drinking, but I already know the answer to that. What happened?”
Becca squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to erase the memory of the bad scene.
She gave Kate the basic rundown.
“...and after we went upstairs, I told her I didn’t appreciate the way she kept insisting that Nick and I were getting married. And my mother kept insisting she’d done nothing wrong. And I told her she needed to stop this constant interference because I’m twenty-five years old and she just needs to stop.”
