Page 18 of Meant to Be
Julia’s tone had a worried tinge to it. “It’s not even a question worth asking. It’s over. Has been over. I see that now. I suppose I always knew it. Losing him was just such an abrupt change in my life that I never processed it.”
“Let’s talk about something else. Is the bacon down here really better?” Julia asked.
Sydney hadn’t realized just how much seeing Mitch had put her out of sorts. She had been whirling through life without a tether until Julia and Patrick sat in her living room drinking moonshine and discussing the merits of southern cuisine. With them, she was home. Safe. She could always count on them to ground her and make her feel loved. “Thank you for coming. I really needed you guys.”
Julia and Patrick gave her puzzled glances.
“Well, of course.” Julia lifted her glass of moonshine. “All for one and one for all.”
Sydney enduredanother restless night with Mitch haunting her sleep. Initially, the dreams started out pleasant. The Mitch she’d known in college smiling and lovable, holding her and promising to always love her. Then he’d morphed, his features turning dark, as he pushed her away into a dark abyss. The falling sensation woke her, leaving her to grieve her loss in the darkness.
Make-up did little to hide the dark circles, but fortunately, neither Patrick nor Julia said anything. Instead, they chatted and prepared for Sydney to show them her new, albeit temporary life in Virginia. Sydney was sure bringing Julia to a country fair was a bad idea, but she’d promised a few of her patients she’d go and knew it would be a good way to become a part of the community. Not that she’d ever be considered a local. The term local was reserved for people born and bred in Charlotte Tavern, but southern tradition included hospitality that allowed for outsiders, even northerners, to be included in the community. If Sydney was going to make the best of her year in Charlotte Tavern, she needed to participate in town events, such as the Dogwood Fair.
“Wow, this is country, isn’t it?” Julia climbed out of the back of Patrick’s rental, stepping into the soft grass that made up the parking lot. “I’m glad you made me change my shoes. My Jimmy Choos would be ruined in this.”
“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Patrick whispered to Sydney.
“Is that possible?” Sydney grinned.
“Well, I can try.” Patrick winked.
“I can hear you,” Julia said in a singsong voice.
The three walked toward the fair’s entrance.
“There are a lot of interesting smells.” Julia scrunched her nose.
“Nothing worse than the New York subway.” Sydney scanned the area. “I think that section is for animals.”
“Like a petting zoo?” Julia asked.
“No. It’s livestock, like pigs and cows.”
“They can be cute. What’s that over there?” Julia pointed to an area running along a wooded border.
“I think that’s crafts and homemade items. We should head there. Some of my ladies have booths.” Sydney started toward the row of tents of vendors.
“Your ladies? You’ve adopted them already?”
Sydney glanced at Patrick, wondering if he was using his shrink stuff on her or just making an observation?
“They’re my patients. They’re my ladies.”
“That’s good.” His hand rested on her back. She and Patrick shared a familiarity that allowed for touching, but she hoped he wasn’t getting any ideas now that Mitch was completely out of the realm of possibility.
They walked along the rows of booths filled with homemade soap, quilts, and jams. It reminded Sydney of the farmers’ market she sometimes visited in New York with bright fabrics, colorful stone jewelry, and the scent of lavender from sachets and soap. Each vendor was busy with people of all shapes and sizes touching, sniffing, and occasionally tasting homemade treats. Along it all, the sweet scent of kettle corn hung in the air.
“Look at that painting. It’s really good.” Julia stopped outside a booth filled with landscapes. “Did you paint that?”
The vendor stood from her chair, setting her knitting aside. “My daughter painted that. She’s in Iraq right now, so I’m staying with her babies and helping her make some extra money for when she comes home.”
Sydney stepped forward, scanning the paintings. “Can I see that one with the sunset over the mountains?”
“Are you going to buy one?” Julia asked.
Sydney nodded. She didn’t need a painting, but she wanted to help the woman who was sacrificing raising her children to serve her country.
“This is one of my favorites.” The vendor brought the canvas to Sydney. “It’s down at Potters Creek. Have you been there?”
