Page 20 of Book and Ladder
“I couldn’t find my notebook,” I whisper-hiss.
My aunt Becca, my dad’s sister, simply pats my knee.
“As I was saying,” Clementine, our Fall Festival chairman, says from the podium. “We need to form committees. That way we’re sure to cover all the bases.”
I open my notebook to the tab that saysFall Festivaland start writing. Committees are par for the course. I keep my head down, though. Eye contact with the chairman in situations like this means certain death. In no time I’d be assigned to oversee something like volunteer coordination or the costume contest. I’ve got my hands full with the shop right now. I can’t run a major portion of this annual tradition. Not this year, anyway.
“We’re grateful to announce this year’s largest sponsor,” Clementine says into the mic.
A squeal of feedback pierces the air. She rears back and then regains her composure. “Will the O’Connell family please stand?”
The sound of scraping chair legs echoes along the high ceilings. Heat prickles up the back of my neck. I’m assumingPatrick’s whole family is standing. I’m definitely not turning around in my seat to see if my assumption is correct. I fix my eyes on the podium and count my breaths.
“Thank you so much for your generosity,” Clementine says.
She starts clapping and the whole room joins her.
My aunt nudges me with her elbow. I bring my hands together in succession slowly, but softly. I’m grateful for contributions, and I love our town—I’m just leery of anything with strings attached, or in this case ropes that might just turn into nooses.
After the announcement of our other sponsors, all clustered into a single group and without applause for each individual one, Clementine asks for volunteers to head up each aspect of the festival. The meeting closes with her setting the next meeting date.
Mom volunteered to head up the setup and tear down. That’s massive. Aunt Becca is helping with activities and games.
“You can help us, Daisy,” Mom says.
“I’ll do what I can,” I say. And I will.
“It’s okay,” Aunt Becca says. “You’ve got the shop to tend. We’ll do as much as we can without your help.”
I thank her.
People start stacking chairs on the stands at the perimeter of the room. Mr. O’Connell is holding court in his spot a few rows behind us. People are literally lined up to talk to him.
“I’ve got to open Moss and Maple in the morning,” I tell my mom and aunt. “I’m going to go. Let me know what you need.”
I hug them and then I turn to leave.
“Oh, Daisy?” Aunt Becca says, her hand gently landing on my forearm.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got this friend.”
I suppress a groan. I already know where this is heading.
Mom sends me a compassionate look from over Aunt Becca’s shoulder.
“Mm hmm,” I say.
“Her son is about your age. Handsome. Works in IT. Anyhoo, he’s visiting his mother before starting his new position in Nashville.”
She stares at me, awaiting my response.
When I don’t say anything, she continues, “And I thought since you’re young and single and he’s young and single, well, you might want to meet him for dinner one night.”
“But not as a date?” I ask with a note of hope in my voice.
“What’s wrong with dating?” Aunt Becca deflects.
