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At this point, I can only hope.
Hope. I glance back at Aria, and she’s got a soft smile. She gives me a nod. Maybe I do know a thing or two about hope these days.
Chapter 31
Aria
I breathe in the cinnamon stick-scented air of the festival, hardly believing it’s almost over.
Part of me was hoping that not being in period dress would help me be a little more anonymous at the festival, but that’s not the case. Of course, the Christmas blazer is a dead giveaway.
“Aria! Hey!” A group of teens who have confidently shown up to the festival in matching cotton dresses, shawls, and white mob caps shout out to me. “Where’s Theo?” one of them shouts and the rest move in closer to her in peals of laughter.
I give an exaggerated shrug and wave. It’s surreal that I’m being recognized, even around town when I’m not in my blazer.
And that’s a good question. Where is Theo? He only said he couldn’t come, but that he would be here first thing in the morning for closing day.
I wish he could have been here. Some of the committee members and I get to extricate the money from the giant plastic stocking and take it to the bank and then go shopping for the things on the families’ wish lists. We’ll still be accepting donations tomorrow, Christmas Eve day, right up to the end. But the committee will be making deliveries to the families tomorrow.
I glance over the booths as I weave my way to the end near the registers. It doesn’t take me quite as long as years past to make it here because at this point, we’re at about seventy-five percent capacity. That means a fourth of the contracted booths pulled out of the festival.
Not ideal. The fewer booths, the less of a rich experience we offer the customers.
However, according to Camilla and Jesse, their shortbread sales haven’t been hurt by this. Maybe less of a selection for the customers has helped the booths sell more. Entrance fee income has been strong, according to the committee, which is good news.
Still, my stomach is torn to shreds right now. It’s the moment of reckoning. The giant stocking doesn’t look at all full. If I had to guess, there’s maybe half of what’s normally in there. Will there be enough for the Flemings?
The court hearing went well for Marty, with the judge dropping it down to a misdemeanor. No more jail time, either. Still, Theo hasn’t felt like talking much about it.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about being in that courtroom with him, though. I kept to myself in the back, silent with Camilla and Jesse. But I felt permanently emotionally attached to him throughout the whole thing. It was a whole “mi casa es su casa” moment, except it was more along the lines of “your pain is my pain.”
It did something to me. It sealed me to him in some way, hearing him eloquently and humbly address the judge. Humbly, yes, but like a rockstar, too. I don’t know how that was possible, but Theo managed it.
I wave at Camilla, who’s at her booth talking with customers as they grab items from her shelves. Marjorie is already there next to Liz at the giant plastic donation stocking, and when she sees me, she holds up the keys and jangles them. I see that a security guard is already on hand, too.
When I reach Marjorie, she leans in for hug. “Did you hear about the storm that’s supposed to come in tonight?”
“I’m not too worried. Seems like there’s snow every Christmas Eve, but it never seems to affect the festival too badly.”
“Well, it could affect it this year. I hear the wind is supposed to be thirty miles per hour.”
We’ve scratched and clawed our way through these last three weeks, and it hasn’t collapsed yet. It will survive one more day. I wish I knew if the Flemings will survive. I want them to have as good of a Christmas as possible.
“One of the best moments of the festival!” Marjorie cries as she helps me insert the ornery key into the lock near the base of the stocking. “No matter what the final amount is, we did our best and every bit counts. Besides, I know you were out literally knocking on doors getting more, which is admirable. Thank you, Aria.”
“Where’s Theo?” Liz asks. That question has been on repeat all over town.
“He’s got a lot of loose ends at the firm he needs to tie up, with it being Christmas Eve tomorrow. But he’ll be here for closing day.”
“I don’t doubt he’s got work to do. I think he’s the best attorney in town. He did so much to help Marty Fleming.”
It feels uneasy discussing the Flemings—I wish it hadn’t been so public. But Marjorie is right, Theo pulled out all the stops when working together with the judge and prosecutor for the best possible solution for Marty, and by extension, Elijah and his family.
Marjorie seems to sense that I don’t want to talk about it. “In any case, the festival was made better by you and Theo. You two exude light—you’re way more wholesome than Carl and Amanda.” Marjorie looks ready to spit in someone’s eye as she utters their names.
“I doubt Theo and I have had much to do with it, but thanks,” I offer.
She holds out a narrow, magnetic sweeper. “Of course you did,” she croons. “You do the honors.” Marjorie glances at Liz and the security guard.
