Page 11 of Loving Carter

The attendees look at each other, then agree with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“We can capitalize on the old expo. Mention it hasn’t been held in almost a hundred years, but now it’s back,” Denise says. “The library can create programs of what life was like back then versus now. We can carry this theme through the entire expo. Offer old-fashioned games versus modern games, old-fashioned crafts and food versus modern crafts and food, that sort of thing.”

Her idea catches the attention of everyone in the room.

Once it’s clear we’re all on board, Bill says, “Let’s list all the tasks that need to be done and then assign them to people. Obviously, each of us will need to head up one or more areas of the expo. And we’ll have to enlist helpers.”

“Or let people volunteer,” Carter says. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m not a big fan of being told I have to volunteer.”

His comment and slightly stern tone catch the room off guard. We all look at each other, confused. He seemed fine a moment ago.

Denise asks, “Are you upset that you’re on this committee?”

I know he’s not thrilled to be here, but true to form, he doesn’t share that with the room. Instead, he smiles, and I know his “public persona” has slipped back into place. “No, I’m happy to help. I just meant in general, we need to make certain we aren’t forcing people to get involved.”

“And no guilt trips,” Hugh says. “I hate it when people make me feel like I have to do something. It makes me flash back to when I was six years old and had to share my toys with my younger brother.”

The room falls silent as we ponder the image of mountain-man Hugh when he was a six-year-old valiantly defending his toys against an evil brother encroacher.

I blink. Wow, what an image.

Bill clears his throat. “Anyway, make sure all volunteers truly volunteer and aren’t coerced into helping. Anything else?”

“And we should be able to pick the area we want to work at. I don’t want to be in charge of the games and the toys. I don’t like ’em,” Hugh says.

I nod slowly as if I understand. All I can think is he has bad memories because of the brother encroacher. Gotta watch those four-year-old siblings.

“Each business should have their own games,” one of the twins says. “You can pick a game that you don’t mind. Or at least, one that you dislike the least.”

I tip my head to get a better view of the speaker. Which one did Carter call Tina? This is maddening. Both women wear their dark-brown hair short in a pixie cut that suits their faces but doesn’t help me tell them apart. Same with their clothes. Both have on black leggings, black boots, and brightly colored sweaters in blue, green, and beige.

They look nice, but they also look exactly the same. One of them needs to develop a zit or something to help people out. You know, take one for the team, because even after watching these two for several minutes, I haven’t a clue how to tell one from the other.

Okay, I know it’s not their problem, and they shouldn’t have to adjust their lives to suit me. But hey, how are people supposed to call them by the right name if they look exactly the same?

Carter must sense my confusion because he says, “That’s nice of you to volunteer, Nina.”

Show-off. It takes all my willpower not to make a face at him. How does he know? He was away from Endearing longer than I was, and yet he doesn’t have the slightest problem figuring this out. I get confused each time the women come into the bakery, and I’m equally confused now. After this meeting, I plan to ask him just how he can tell them apart.

“What about rather than games, I lead a car show?” Hugh suggests. “That will pull in the car fans. They’ll travel long distances for a massive show, and I can ask a couple of the car clubs around here to get involved.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Bill says, pushing his glasses up on his nose and scribbling in his notebook. “What sort of games can we offer the children?”

“Go Fish where we set up small fishing poles and attach little prizes on the hooks,” Ty says. “And maybe some sort of ring toss game.”

“We also can help them make crafts,” the other twin sister says.

Okey dokey. Now I’m getting somewhere in the great twin hunt. Based on what Carter said before, I’m positive the speaker is Tina.

“You make a good point,” I say, resisting the urge to add the name Tina. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure, but maybe notcompletelysure.

“Tina, you make a good point.” Carter places extra emphasis on the woman’s name, which I know is for my benefit.

Yes! She’s Tina. Mentally, I do a little happy dance and feel like I just guessed the right answer on a quiz show.

“We can set up all sorts of games,” Bill says. “We run a little carnival in the spring at the elementary school, so we can just expand on that.” He looks at Carter. “Can you supply ponies for a pony ride?”

Carter is smiling slightly and looks like he’s paying attention, but I know he’s bluffing. He’s adopted the same look he always had in school, the one that says, yes, I’m paying attention, when he’s actually zoned out.

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