Chapter 9
9
“WHAT’S THE AGE RANGE FOR THIS PARTY?” Julia scanned the courtyard of Beignets & Books and the round tables and chairs I’d hauled from the storage shed. Each was set for four.
“Toddlers to teens.”
When she’d asked if she could help with the first library event, I’d pounced on her offer. And that first event would begin in exactly thirty minutes, at one o’clock. With the cooler temps of mid-March still cooperating on this Saturday afternoon, and the overcast skies lending a hand, we were poised for perfect outdoor-party weather. And since naptimes generally occurred after lunch, the timeframe seemed a smart move for children to arrive after having worn themselves out elsewhere.
We stood next to the fountain, which I had turned off so it would pose less of a temptation to the younger attendees. My water feature would not be used as a wading pool. Or a sink. Or a urinal.
“Hmm.” Julia’s face scrunched.
“What?”
“Well, it seems kind of formal for kids, especially from what I remember taking the boys to when they were little. But we went to a different library than yours. Does your library lean to the fancier side?”
A slow churn started in my gut. Although Micah had doled out a plethora of suggestions over the past two and a half weeks, the only one I’d taken was a tea party. And some of the supplies he’d gathered for the arts and crafts activity. Julia’s opinion only confirmed my second-guessing that had begun this morning when Hayley had helped set everything up. Her reaction to the paper teacups and saucers hadn’t been the delight I’d experienced at finding them online at a deep discount. She’d frowned at the subdued floral-themed sets and made a comment about the tea party in the book being whacky and bizarre.
“No, our library isn’t fancy.” I laid a hand against my middle. “I thought it might be refreshing to be a little more...”
“Formal?”
“Refined.” Or maybe reserved was a better word. “My goal is to evoke a calm environment and discourage any inklings of roughhousing. You know how much it cost to remodel this courtyard.” I moved to one of the tables and smoothed a wrinkle in its cream tablecloth.
“I do know. And I think it’s great you’re doing this. It’s nice to see this area getting used more.”
Hadn’t Daddy made a similar—though derogatory—remark about not using the courtyard all the time? At another table, I adjusted one of the folding chairs. In addition to the teacups, saucers, matching plates, and napkins, the center of each table held a tiered tray of cupcakes a local bakery had donated and dropped off earlier.
“It’s a lovely setup,” Julia said.
“Thank you.” I tipped a leery gaze to the oak’s branches.
“Any other sightings of Sir Neville’s killer?”
“Not since the murder.”
“Is it still leaving you presents?”
“Oh yes,” I sighed. “Today marked day twenty-two.” My morning routine now included hosing escalating amounts of bird poop from the pavers. Never had I thought one parrot could produce so much waste. What was its food source? A Taco Bell dumpster? “What makes it worse is I feel like it’s watching me.” I slowly scanned the tree, a slight shudder crawling over my skin.
“Is Mrs. Adélaide still talking about bringing her gun?”
I pressed a finger between my brows, rubbing. “She hasn’t mentioned it since last week. Apparently, she hasn’t been able to locate a purse big enough to fit her weapon to get it here.”
“What’s she got? A shotgun?”
I dropped my hand with a shrug. “As long as she keeps showing up only toting her little cross-body wallet, I’ll count that as a blessing.”
“So what’s the plan with all this?” Julia tucked her phone into the back pocket of her fitted jeans. She’d paired the dark denim with a flowy sleeveless top, highlighting the tone in her arms. Her active job as a housemaid helped maintain her fit shape.
“The plan with all this” was to keep the library events alive and hence, keep Hayley happy. For her to witness me championing something she loved. And possibly redirect her obsession with getting a dog. For at least one day anyway. I glanced up to her bedroom window, where she was probably strategizing her next move. Would it be another car magnet? Another newsletter subscription? I shook my head. “I figured we’d start with Micah—”
“The man whose kisses you still dream about.”
I gasped, my jaw hanging for several heavy heartbeats. “Julia. Reed. Is that why you volunteered? To meet Micah?”
She suddenly became very interested in one of the blooming azalea bushes. “Maybe it’s a little bit why.”
I kept my gaze lasered on her. “Julia.”
She turned, a sly smile forming. “Maybe it’s a lot why I volunteered.”
An exhale burst free. “This isn’t like you. You’re not a meddler.”
“When it comes to the people I love, I am.”
Her declaration softened my irritation. “Well, prepare to be disappointed.”
Her head tipped sideways.
“Micah has a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” Her expression deflated. “I’m sorry.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not like I was interested anyway.”
One of her brows rose. “Who’s the one trying to lie now? Other than your ex, Micah’s the only man you’ve ever freely spoken about. That’s huge. And I’d like to point out you blushed while doing so.”
“And I’d like to point out his mysteriousness about the reason behind his divorce.”
“Maybe she cheated on him. That’s not exactly something a guy wants to share.”
A possibility I’d thought of. I moved to a different table, adjusting plates and teacups that did not need adjusting.
She shadowed me. “So you’re really not interested in him? You’re completely recovered from your Mardi Gras fever?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Mm-hmm, indeed.” Heavy skepticism coated her words.
I skirted to another table, unnecessarily tweaking its place settings too. Now was not the time for a love-life discussion. “As I was saying. Micah will read a portion of the book, then we’ll move on to making hats, which is where you come in.” I swept my hand toward the well-organized arts and crafts worktable, where the kids would create themed paper hats. I’d purposely removed the bottles of glitter Micah had included in the bin he’d given me. Didn’t he know glitter was the devil’s confetti? I’d also replaced the glue with scotch tape, and the regular crayons and markers with washable versions.
Julia took in the setup, nodding. “Cute. Do you have another activity for the teens?”
“No.” Uncertainly once again flared in my stomach. “As long as there’s food, they should be happy, right?”
“That’s how my boys worked at that age.” Her two sons now attended college out of state.
I scanned the table settings, biting the inside of my cheek. Hopefully Micah had secured enough for everyone to eat. The kitchen would be busy with our usual Saturday business. I couldn’t impose on them if we ran out of food. Or absorb the extra cost.
“It’s going to be great.” Julia injected a little too much perk into her tone.
“I plan to play the movie too. That’s a guaranteed hour and fifteen minutes of keeping kids still and quiet.” I indicated the portable projector and screen normally used for weddings and anniversary parties as a way for the couples to show a loop of favorite photos. “I have everything required for a successful library event. Refreshments, a book reading, and an activity.” I made a checkmark in the air with each item listed.
“And how long is this event?”
“Three hours.”
She loosened a low whistle. “Three hours of maintaining a calm environment full of children.” She winked. “You may need to pay me in more than beignets.”
The back doors to the café opened, and Micah emerged.
My traitorous heart pitter-pattered. Stop that. He has a girlfriend. And a red flag from his divorce. A huge, unknown red flag.
A beautiful blonde made her way out behind him.
The pitter-pattering ceased. Sydney Dupré. The church secretary. She’s his girlfriend? My heart shriveled.
Sydney wore jeans and a T-shirt with a stack of books on it that read bookaholic . With her golden hair and voluptuous curves, she was a gorgeous woman.
A gorgeous woman who loved books.
I rubbed the Crease. There was no competing with that. Chin up, chin up . I didn’t want to compete anyway. Still ... I shifted my shoulders and tugged the hem of my white Beignets & Books button-down. I’d left it untucked for a more casual appearance and paired it with burnt orange capri pants and flats. So basically, I looked like an upside-down Dreamsicle. Except even a Dreamsicle had more shape.
“From your reaction, that must be Micah.” Julia’s low voice snapped me from my shock. “Sydney’s his girlfriend?”
“Looks like it.” I waved at them, trying to pull the Landry Mask in place.
“Hey, girl!” Julia called, recovering from her own bout of surprise. Julia and Sydney worked closely together on the church’s ministry with cleaning homes for the elderly.
Micah and Sydney descended the porch, and the sensation that I was dropping enveloped me. Very appropriate for an Alice in Wonderland party. But as I hit the bottom of my rabbit hole, reality struck. Sydney was Micah’s type. The only thing Sydney and I had in common was our age. And Jesus. We couldn’t have been more opposite. I irrationally felt like reverting to my fifth-grade self and stuffing my bra with Kleenex.
Well ... This would make it that much easier to banish any zings or thoughts of him as being more than a friend. My vulnerable heart was once again safe. Plus, I wouldn’t have to speculate any longer about the real reasons behind his marriage ending. My final theory would have to rest on them not agreeing on the thermostat setting. Or his wife having turned out to be a serial killer. And she’d one day escape prison, so whoever Micah was in a relationship with risked getting murdered.
“Thank you for coming,” I said to Sydney, then introduced Julia and Micah. They exchanged handshakes.
“Thanks again for doing this.” Micah’s gaze skimmed the courtyard, his smile slightly fading. No doubt at the lack of pink lawn flamingos and gawdy decorations hanging from the tree. Though Sydney had been a surprise, his Hawaiian shirt was not. It featured the faces of Lewis Carroll’s characters.
“You’re welcome.” I tucked my hair behind an ear and attempted to avoid looking directly at him. At his attractive face. His strong, clean-shaven jaw. Was I smelling pineapples again?
“How do y’all know each other?” Julia motioned between Sydney and Micah.
I tried not to gawk at my best friend for being so uncharacteristically forward.
Sydney fidgeted with her purse strap. “We met at church about a month ago.”
My gaze swung to Micah. “You go to my church?” The surprise in my voice rang clear.
“If it’s the same one as Sydney, then yes. Started when I returned to town.” He slid his hands into his cargo shorts. “I’ve been attending with my dad on Saturday evenings.”
“Ah.” Julia jutted a thumb back and forth between us. “We attend on Sundays.”
He nodded as his phone trilled. Pulling it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen, his forehead furrowing. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He moved away, aiming for the back wall, taking his tanned and toned calf muscles with him.
Ugh. This would’ve been so much easier if he’d had scrawny chicken legs.
Julia turned her vivid eyes on Sydney. “Are y’all dating?”
My mouth popped open. The woman was like a bloodhound set loose on a fresh prison escapee.
“Yes.” Sydney seemed mesmerized by Mawmaw’s mansion and the outdoor space, her gaze absorbing everything. “Your place is so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said. With Sydney distracted, I shot Julia a back off look, and returned my focus to Sydney. “I appreciate you coming.”
“I’m happy to help wherever you need me.” The sincerity in Sydney’s offer resonated.
Sigh . Sydney Dupré was too genuine of a person to dislike. Which I’d already known from the handful of times we’d interacted at church. “Well, I’ve got Julia manning the arts and crafts. Maybe you could keep an eye on the side gate.” I gestured to the back left corner. “To ensure little ones don’t slip out unattended. Oh, and I set a refreshment table for the parents over there too. And a drink dispenser for the iced tea. If you notice it running low, it’d be great if you could let me know.”
“Sure thing.” Sydney headed to her assigned post, her long blond hair billowing out behind her. Like a full-figured Rapunzel.
The back doors flew open, and a harried woman with a minibus of kids under the age of nine emptied onto the porch. The children beelined for Micah, stampeding between the tables as though they were bulls in the streets of Pamplona. “Careful!” the lady hollered after them.
Micah ended his call in time to offer high fives and fist bumps to each of the boys and girls.
“They’re early.” I glimpsed the time on my phone, the muscles in my neck tensing.
The kids lost interest in Micah and started darting through the courtyard in different directions. The woman who’d brought them collapsed onto a chair at one of the tables, not seeming to care about keeping an eye on her brood. She helped herself to one of the cupcakes. Those were for the children! Go, go gadget cattle prod .
Micah approached, pocketing his cell and following my line of vision. “Easy now.” Too much teasing dusted his words.
Julia piped in with a conspiratorial grin. “I didn’t think Kate would be the one breaking her own calm-environment feel.”
Before I could shush either of them, another wave of kids and parents sailed out the back doors. “It’s not supposed to start for another twenty minutes.”
“Yeah.” Micah shrugged. “People always show up early. Especially when food’s involved. I’d planned to be here sooner but got caught up at my dad’s before picking up Sydney.”
I bullied the Crease. “It would’ve been nice if you’d told me.”
“Sorry.” A slight wince puckered his face. “I figured you’d been to enough of these things with Hayley to know.”
“We always arrived right on time.”
He snickered. “Of course you did.”
I tried to tamp down my glare at him. Tried and failed.
He fought a smile. “Where’s Hayley?”
“Probably lining my bedroom walls with pictures of emaciated Chihuahuas.”
Julia chuckled.
Micah glanced between us. “Am I missing something?”
I shook my head. “Hayley most likely won’t make an appearance until Emma does.”
“Hmpf.” His lips pursed. “I figured she’d be down here running everything. She seemed pretty excited about the event being here.”
“She did?” That was news to me.
Several kids circled the fountain like sharks. Another child ducked beneath a table, rattling it and the tiered serving tray sitting atop it.
I quickly took the stairs up to the porch. “Excuse me!” I called out in a loud teacher voice, clapping my hands.
Everyone’s attention turned my way. Micah came to stand beside me.
“Hello, and welcome to today’s library event. The tables here in the middle are for the kids so they can be closer to the activities we have planned. Parents, if you’re comfortable with letting your child sit by themselves, we have a section for you in the back corner.” I motioned to the area, and Sydney waved with a lovely smile.
My heart withered.
Another swell of parents and older kids made their way out and down the steps, filtering to the sides.
“Before we take our seats and get started, I want to review a few rules.”
A collective moan echoed from the younger guests.
“Number one.” I held up a finger. “The fountain is off-limits. It’s filled with chemicals that could kill you.”
The children closest to the water feature backed away with wide eyes.
Micah gave a muted snort.
I nailed him with a scowl and lowered my voice. “Chlorine is toxic.”
I redirected my attention to the crowd. “Rule number two is no running. And no climbing in the gardens or any of the trees.” Oof . I sounded like my mom.
A little boy around eight years old raised his hand.
He was instantly my favorite child here. I pointed to him. “Thank you for raising your hand. What’s your question?”
“Rule number two is actually three rules.”
Several snickers erupted. Including from Micah.
My mouth slanted. Okay, maybe that kid wasn’t my favorite. “Rule number three, er, the last rule, is to remember this is a place of business. Even though we’re outside, we need to use our inside voices.”
Micah shifted, scratching the back of his neck.
I reached for the copy of Alice in Wonderland resting on the porch railing and handed it to him.
“You good now?” His dark green eyes twinkled.
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
He turned to the group and pitched his voice. “It’s so great to see all of you here today. We’ve still got a few minutes before we start, so feel free to find a seat or visit the bathroom, which is inside.” He motioned to Mawmaw’s beloved antique French doors.
I envisioned kids running in and out, slamming them. Roughly handling the precious vintage doorknobs. Leaving the doors propped open wouldn’t do. The last thing I needed was a fly infestation in the café or the A/C leaking out. Maybe I’d take up residence there, acting as a doorman.
I moved toward them as Penny poked her head out. Bad news loitered in her eyes as she neared. “The internet’s down.”
Mangy mutts.
“Is something wrong?” Julia approached.
“The internet’s out.” I turned to Penny. “Did you try rebooting the router?”
“Yes. It didn’t work.”
Julia’s attention slid from Penny to me. “What’s that mean for everything?”
“It doesn’t affect the café,” I said. “Our ordering and payment system runs on an on-site server.”
Penny pushed her ponytail off her shoulder. “And the program will store all the credit card swipes and process them once reconnected to the internet.”
“That’s good,” Julia said, infusing a super-positive Mary Poppins tone. “So it’s not a big deal.”
I moved from pressing the Crease to massaging my temples. “I can’t stream the movie.”
Julia’s expression plunged, as though her Mary Poppins umbrella had been hit with buckshot.
“I already called our service provider,” Penny said. “Everything looks fine on their end. They said it must be an internal issue.”
Ugh . “What about our local tech people?”
Penny gave a brisk nod. “I left them a voice mail and sent an email through my phone. But since it’s the weekend, I’m not sure how responsive they’ll be.”
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “Thanks, Penny. I appreciate it.”
With an encouraging smile, she departed.
Another round of caretakers and kids poured into the courtyard. Too many to keep track of. God, You’ve multiplied fish and loaves of bread. How about cupcakes? A little girl darted inside, slamming the French doors, the glass panes rattling. I flinched and switched back to rubbing the Crease, knowing it would be in full pucker mode. Scanning the area, trying to come up with a viable solution to fix the movie problem and the possible shortage of food, my sights paused on Micah at the base of the stairs. Gone was his earlier teasing facade. Concern emanated from his jade gaze.
He neared, pausing midway up the steps. “You’re looking a little pale.”
“The internet’s out, which means we can’t stream the movie.”
“Well...” His stare descended to the book in his hands. “We’ll come up with something to fill the time. We could play charades.” His eyes veered up to mine, a sparkle chasing away the unease that had just been there. “Or I could go get those croquet sets. I know how much you loved that suggestion.”
An unexpected blip of lightness broke through at his goading, easing the clamp of my molars. “N. O.”
His answering smile barely contained his chuckle.
The audacity! “This isn’t funny.”
Tucking the book under one arm, he rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “It’s also not the end of the world.”
“He’s right.” Julia touched my elbow. “Let me call Wyatt and see if he can help.”
“Wyatt!” Hope soared from the depths of my rabbit hole. “That’s right! He’s a technology whiz!”
Micah edged up the final step. “Who’s Wyatt?”
Julia held her phone to her ear. “My single and handsome brother-in-law.” She waggled her brows at me. It hadn’t been the first time she’d expressed her desire to set me and Wyatt up.
I smothered a sigh. Here we go.