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“While you’re there, you might as well tell them I’ve paid the entrance fee already,” Camilla says, biting her bottom lip. “The finance person reached out, but I paid it a week ago.”
“I know.” I was the one who made the payment, technically. I remember how dicey it was at times two years ago. Because of a lack of finances and a fire in Camilla’s garage, we weren’t at all sure that Shorty’s would be able to have a booth at the festival.
But they managed to find a booth that fit the bill. The festival, being all about Charles Dickens, requires the booths to look like they’re buildings on an old London street. Many of the booths are set up in the renovated Barrie Mansion, now an events center, where walls were removed to expand the central grand ballroom. The rest of the booths are housed in a large event tent in the acre-sized backyard.
Being in the festival turned out to be a wise decision for Shorty’s, bringing in more loyal followers of Camilla’s seasonal shortbread and kicking off the new website with a bang. The business is getting there, thanks to Camilla’s vision and hard work, as well as her husband Jesse’s entrepreneurial expertise.
Merre enters the kitchen, tying up her golden-brown locks in one of those wide headbands. “Did you say something about the Christmas festival? That Charles Dickens one?”
Both Camilla and I nod and giggle. There isn’t another festival worth mentioning, at least not to anyone in this community. We’ll cut her some slack, though. She isn’t a lifelong New Hedger like we are. She moved here after she graduated from college not long ago.
“Did you hear about the problem with the charity they’ve been donating to?” Merre asks. “Something about most of the money not even going to buying shoes for kids like they claimed?”
“No, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad,” Camilla says.
“Wait. Shoes and Dues doesn’t actually donate much to the kids?” I don’t want to believe that anything that has to do with the festival is untrustworthy.
Merre shrugs. “I heard that over ninety percent of the funds goes right back to the people who run the charity. The kids don’t even get ten percent of it. And so some people are calling for a boycott of the whole festival.”
At my dropped jaw, Merre takes a step back. “But who knows if it’s true or not?”
It better not be. Nobody messes with the festival.
“Let us know if you hear anything else,” Camilla says. “You’d think they’d address the issue with all those who’ll have a booth. Aria, is this your grandpa’s year to come to New Hedge?”
“Yes. I’m dying to see him.”
“He’s coming to the festival, right?”
“Always.” If I can hang on until grandpa gets here, things might be okay. Having him here for a few days will help. He can brighten up any dark situation, and with my parents arguing and feeling a little rudderless without Rob, I’m ready to be brightened. And hopefully I can help my grandpa, too. I know he sometimes feels lonely living alone.
The rudderlessness—is that a word?—might not even come from the relationship ending in and of itself, but from losing the stability that a relationship provided.
Now? Everything’s all loosey-goosey, willy-nilly. Anything could happen, and that feels terrifying.
Camilla taps her closed mouth before smiling. “Your grandpa, huh? Very interesting.” She gives me a pointed look.
It dawns on me, and I gasp. “Cheesecake?”
Grandpa’s cheesecakes are baked Christmas delights, with swirls of raspberry glaze and thick graham cracker crust enhanced with butter. Lots of it.
“What do you think, Aria? Should we go for it?”
“I’d love that. I could teach you how.”
Camilla’s mouth forms a tight line, and I know what that’s about.
“Oh, the cheesecake curse.”
“The cheesecake curse,” Camilla echoes and then shivers. “It haunts me.”
Camilla has golden baking fingers. She can bake anything—except cheesecake. Her grandfather tried to teach her, several times, without success. It boggles all of our minds. How is it possible that Camilla has a baking Achilles heel?
But she does.
Tears have been shed. A few times.
“Well, I can make them,” I say. “I mean, it’s only for a couple of months, right?”
