Page 86 of Moonshine and Magnolias
Wendy stood on the front landing with her tablet, directing vendors coming in to register and answering questions shouted up to her from the circular drive. Even though she had returned to Atlanta and was again working at Steward Hotels, her knowledge of running events made her the temporary face of Fountenoy Hall. Campers and vans lined the three-quarter mile stretch to the street, and the lobby overflowed with merchants and performers checking in for Pansy Hamilton. A thin layer of dust hung in the air, stirred up every time a vehicle arrived or left. The Civil War and Revolutionary War reenactors greeted each other like lost friends. Wendy appreciated they put aside the animosity between their competing obsessions to perform in Pansy Hamilton.
Returning to Steward had been a mistake. The job and promotion was everything she had expected it to be, everything she had worked for. And she hated it.
She had missed so much in the three weeks she’d been gone. Missed the camaraderie of her family, missed having a home instead of a house. Missed the woman she had become while she was at the Hall. Brandi and Aunt Eulalee seemed to be doing just fine without her. What if she asked to come back, and they said they didn’t need her?
Brandi passed by, chatting with a woman wearing a mob cap and wide skirts to join the merchants setting up their tables and goods on the sprawling lawn. Sebastien and his men were on the grounds, helping set up tents, lending a hand or muscle when needed.
“Whew.” Eulalee joined her on the landing and fanned herself. “I came out here fixin’ to get some fresh air, but it’s so hot you could fry an egg on the asphalt. I don’t think we’ve had a break since we opened the doors.”
Wendy checked her phone, ignoring the hollow ache in her chest. She stood among a crowd of people, but she was still alone. Once she had preferred it this way. “Only one more hour to go.”
“Yeah, but an hour after that to process everyone who makes today’sdeadline.” Eulalee put a hand to her hip and leaned back, letting out a groan as she did. “At least it’s going faster with the registration system you put in.”
The last seller left the lobby as the sun kissed the tops of the trees. Wendy bolted inside and locked the door before anyone could drive up and stop her. After she hung up the sign with tomorrow’s hours, she followed the chatter echoing out of the parlor.
“I don’t understand how you always seem to get all these folded-over potato chips,” Brandi was saying to Sebastien. He handed her a bowl of the salted snack. “They’re my favorite, and you manage to uncover them every time.”
“Just lucky, I guess.” Sebastien poured a mason jar of whiskey and handed it to Wendy.
She took the glass and shook her head. He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing. How could Brandi not know that Sebastien probably had his people prepare custom bowls of chips so she could have what she wanted?
Wendy sprawled on the floor next to Jordan, settling into the hum of automobiles and the pounding of nails from the merchants still setting up. “I could sleep for a week.”
“You can’t start until Sunday night,” Eulalee said from the oversized chair she shared with Mac. Wendy didn’t have enough brain power to even wonder what he was doing there, schmoozing that close to her aunt. Brandi nibbled on chips and balanced a three-ring binder in her lap, studying the highlighted lines of her part in the reenactment.
Wendy kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes as she stole a covert glance around the room. Sebastien and Jordan had hung around to finally experience The Winning of Pansy Hamilton. Wendy was glad they hadn’t left while she’d been gone. The people who loved her, gathered in one place. But even that couldn’t stop how empty she was inside.
Maybe she was crazy to come back. She’d get used to Steward’s again.
“Just wait until tomorrow,” Eulalee said. “Another day like today and a ballroom dance on top of that?”
“As long as you save a space for me on your dance card,” Mac told her.
Wendy studied her aunt out of the corner of her eye. When had she and the produce guy gotten so chummy?
The chime over the lobby door sounded and everyone groaned. Wendy started to rise but Brandi flipped the binder closed. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” She flounced her hair and put on her flirty face, then sashayed out of the room.
“What if it’s a woman?” Jordan called after her.
The squeals coming from the lobby made it clear it was someone familiar. A moment later, Leslie Marsh stood in the doorway of the parlor, taking in everyone in the room. Wendy scrambled to her feet and her mom drew her into an embrace that reminded her of sunshine and lemons.
“I wish I’d known you were coming in,” Wendy said. “I would have come to get you.”
“Like I would have taken you away from Pansy Hamilton. I know how busy it can be.” Leslie gave her another hug and a peck on the cheek. “That’s from Dad. He sends his love.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“You’re just in time to visit with me while I finish up in the kitchen,” Eulalee said.
Before her sentence was finished, Mac had bounded out of his seat with all the grace of a drunken cat. He extended a hand and helped her up. The three of them headed off, with Leslie telling their aunt about her flight.
Brandi dumped a stack of envelopes on the coffee table and knelt beside it. “Aunt Les checked the mail box.”
Wendy took Eulalee’s place on the oversized chair and curled her feet up under her. The sofa might have been more comfortable, but then someone might sit next to her. Constant, physical contact would be more than she could handle.
Her cousin sorted the stack and lay a few envelops next to her legs. “Invoices. Ooooh, and a fancy shmancy invitation for the lady in blue.” She handed that one to Sebastien, who held it out to Jordan.
“Oh, good.”
