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I hope so.
Chapter Eight
Libby bounced around the booth beside me, chatting up every singlecustomer and listening to their life story as she packaged their pastries and cookies. The perk of having a consumable product – customers always wanted more. Each time, she’d waved them off with acome back soonand the friendliest smile that should be part of a welcoming package to the area.
Not the case with my display, however, I wasn’t hurting for sales today. My big pieces of the week – framed miniature versions of the layered artwork I’d made for Chloe – all sold out before noon. I’d taken the liberty of trying my hand at social media again, and posted a few dozen pictures to my page, adding they’d only be available at the market. All I had left, aside from whale tail carvings in various sizes and a couple of unpainted lighthouses, were a few signs from back in the day that I’d found in storage when I was cleaning the shop. They sat untouched, as they’d been overdone a couple years back. Whimsical Whims, on Main Street, sold them regularly, so they really weren’t anything unique for me to offer to customers.
“Ooh, I like this.” An older woman stopped at my booth and picked up a lighthouse.
Having watched Libby chat off everyone’s ear, I was going to tryher trick and add a fun story to it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
“That is based off the lighthouse situated at the southern tip of Cheshire Bay. Have you ever been?” I asked, watching her face for interest.
“No, not yet.”
I glancedat her hand. There was a ring on her finger.
“It’s the most romantic place in all the bay area. My fiancé proposed to me on bended knee in front of one, right as the moon was rising.” My right hand covered my chest as I sighed. “It was impossible to say no.”
“Wow.” She searched my hand, looking for theabsent engagement ring. “Did you get married there too?”
“We haven’t set a date.”
“And it’s a functioning lighthouse?”
There were a fewdecommissioned scattered along the coastline on our little peninsula, but this one was a fully working one, complete with a grounds crew. I nodded.
“I’ll take it, and maybe convince my husband to come and check it out in the real.” She dug into her purse and presented me with the cash.
“Make sure youpack a picnic supper and go when the clouds are scattered. It makes for the most beautiful insta-worthy pictures.”
“I will, thanks. Good luck with your wedding.”
It worked.Although in hindsight, she may have been a little too old for Instagram, but you never knew. Handing back her change and watching her walk away, I pulled out another lighthouse and set it in its place. They were older items, not up to the caliber of work I did now, so they sold at a discount, but whatever, it was extra cash in my pocket.
“Okay, you’ve been holding out on me.Fiancé? Lighthouse?” Libby wandered over to my side, tugging on her blue-tipped braids. “Do dish. I want all the details. How did I not know you were engaged?”
“Because I’m not now.” I hadn’t thought she’d heard, and if I knew that were a possibility, I would’ve used a different story. There were so many to choose from.
She scrunched up her face. “I’m sorry. Was it Vera’s father?”
I moved a whale tale to the front of my table, and repositioned a lighthouse beside it, making sure my book of custom-designed pieces was front and centre.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”Her tone softened, along with her shoulders.
“Good, because I can’t.”
It was long and complicated, and no longer worth my time. I hated the man immensely but loved the best gift he’d ever given me – Vera. The asshole, and his righteous little family, were no longer welcome in any of our lives, and the court ordered restraining order backed that up. Once he signed over his parental rights, we went an extra step and had his name removed from Vera’s birth certificate, mainly to protect Vera. Having him pay child support and Vera’s medical bills would be welcome, but not at the cost of my mental health. It’s enough that his family put a huge down payment on our house, but I’ve always considered that hush money.
The doorbell chime sounded through my wireless headphones, and I threw my gaze to the clock on the wall.Francesca and Vera weren’t due back for at least a couple of hours. Peering over my shoulder, I was stunned to see the tall, and dashing, David Dean standing there with a tray of coffees and a bag of goodies.
I slippedthe headphone off one ear.
“Ah, good morning." A tinge of surprise coloured my words. Of all people, this was not who I expected to see today.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you a little something.” He lifted the Sylvia’s Bakery bag, which was spotted with grease marks. Whatever was inside was most likely tasty and the very idea of a mouth-watering pastry made my stomach growl.
Removing my headset, I rested it completely on my shoulders.
