Page 32 of Patio Lanterns

“Oh, hey, I know them,” Aidan said. “I think I caught the end of their set last year at the music fest in Peterborough.”

Robin’s face lit up. “You were there?”

“Yeah. I think they were a few acts before the headliner. Who was it now…? Sam Roberts? The Trews?”

“Sloan,” she reminded him.

Aidan snapped his fingers. “That’s right. I knew it was someone good,” he said, before backpedalling. “I mean, you guys were good too. Your lead singer’s got a mean set of pipes.”

“Parker?” Robin smirked. “Yeah, you should hear her tear a strip off a roadie.”

Rick bit his tongue to keep quiet, but couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. If he never heard Parker’s name again, it would be too soon.

“Geez, Robbie, had I known you were with the band, maybe we could’ve grabbed a beer after the show.”

“Yeah maybe, but it’s usually hard for me to get away after our set,” she said with a smile. “The merch tent is pretty busy then.”

“Get yer t-shirts here!” Lark cried out mockingly.

That does it. Rick had heard quite enough of her condescending jabs, and Robin deserved more respect.

“Actually,” he piped up, “I recently learned that touring bands often make most of their money from merchandise sales. To be able to manage that entire end of the business, you’ve got to understand product development, inventory control, sales and distribution, not to mention marketing and promotions for the e-commerce channels.”

“Wow, I never thought of it like that,” Dove said, “but that’s absolutely true.”

“All I’m saying is that it’s an essential role, and certainly one that is more complex than most people understand. It takes real business acumen.”

Robin slipped him a little appreciative smile. He gave her a wink.

Lark dropped her fork on her plate. “Dove, would you help me clear the table, please? We can put on coffee to have with our dessert.”

“I’d be glad to help,” Rick offered, putting down his napkin and preparing to stand.

Aidan suddenly pushed back his chair and jumped up. “No, Dad, you sit. I’ll give Lark a hand.”

Rick settled back down again. “Sure, okay.”

Lark glanced at her sisters. “Then could one of you please clean up Nova for me?”

Nova was in her high chair at the other end of the table, happily fingerpainting with butter and noodles on the tray top. She looked up with a big greasy grin, looking quite pleased with herself as her fingers skated through the slippery goo.

“Mommy says it’s time we got you cleaned up,” Dove told her. “What do you think?”

“No!” Nova clapped back, sending both her aunts into a fit of giggles.

“You sound just like Grandma Micki,” Robin said, still laughing.

“Doesn’t she though? It’s not enough that she’s the spitting image of Mom, but she’s got her feisty streak too.” Dove lifted the tray top and reached down to unbuckle the strap holding Nova in place.

“No, no,” Nova repeated, wriggling as she happily kicked her feet. “Bobbin!”

Dove stepped back. “You heard the lady, Bobbin. She wants you.”

Rick thought the whole scene was adorable, and he loved watching the sisters interact so playfully. He wondered if it was because Lark had left the room that things seemed much more relaxed between them.

“Bobbin!” Nova raised her arms.

Robin wrinkled her nose. “I’m not good with babies.”

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