Chapter 2 #2
“Well, y’all will get a completely different experience tonight,” I said. “Happy Trails is hosting the community fundraiser at the campground. It’s a lot less formal, I promise.”
Tara’s shoulders softened a bit. “I’m looking forward to that.”
“Me too,” Alice said. “I hear there’s going to be karaoke.”
“There is.” I smiled. “Blue Ethel and the Adolescent Farm Boys are bringing some equipment, and Dottie Swaggert has already threatened to sing ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ whether anyone asks her to or not.”
Tara laughed softly, the first real sound I’d heard from her since she’d sat down.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “I spend so much time at formal events that a relaxed evening sounds nice.”
“It’ll be relaxed,” I assured her. “Food, music, raffles, some games, and a few kerosene lanterns set around for atmosphere. Safely set around,” I added because Alice Charles was looking at me with forest-supervisor eyes.
Alice gave a small smile. “Good to know.”
Florence picked up her teacup, looked at the handle, then set it back down without drinking. “Kerosene lanterns can be lovely when placed correctly.”
I wondered if Florence had ever corrected a flame for leaning too far left.
Before I could say anything else, Tara picked up one of the small roller bottles Abby had placed in the center of the table.
“These are sweet,” she said, holding it between her fingers. “What are they?”
I sat up straighter, grateful for a subject that didn’t involve land use, table manners, or open flames.
“Those are little essential oil roller bottles from Cascades Mobile Spa,” I said. “Glenda and Tex run it. They bring their pamper camper to Happy Trails for events sometimes. Massages, foot soaks, hand treatments, that sort of thing.”
Florence looked at the bottle as if it might ask to borrow money.
“Pamper camper?” she repeated.
“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled because I knew that was going to hit her wrong. “It’s a camper they turned into a little mobile spa. They use a lot of scents inspired by the Daniel Boone National Forest. Cedar, mint, lavender, wildflower, pine.”
Alice picked one up and read the tiny label. “Forest Calm.”
“That one’s popular,” I said. “They make them in small batches. Mostly for relaxation or headaches or just because they smell nice.”
Tara rolled the bottle between her palms. “Will they be at the campground tonight?”
“They will. They’re setting up a little booth near the registration office. Glenda will probably offer hand massages, and Tex will stand around without a shirt until Mary Elizabeth pretends not to notice.”
Alice coughed into her napkin, and Tara smiled down at the roller bottle.
Florence unscrewed the cap of one of the bottles and brought it toward her nose with extreme caution.
I watched her face.
She took one tiny sniff, blinked, then placed the cap right back on.
“How earthy,” she said.
That was Florence-speak for “awful.”
Tara opened hers next and dabbed a little on the inside of her wrist. “It’s different.”
Alice smelled hers and gave a practical nod. “Cedar.”
“They’re cute,” Tara said, placing hers beside her nameplate. “A thoughtful touch.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Glenda you said that,” I said.
Florence placed her bottle in the center of the table as if she wanted no confusion about whether it belonged to her personally. “I’m sure they have their clientele.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek.
Before I could rescue the roller bottles from Florence’s judgment, a young waitress stepped up to our table with a glass pitcher of ice water in both hands.
She couldn’t have been more than twenty, with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a white apron tied around her waist. I’d seen her earlier, coming in and out of the farmhouse kitchen, helping Dawn and Mary Elizabeth’s staff serve drinks and keep the tables filled.
She had the wide-eyed look of someone who had been told at least ten times not to spill anything on anyone important.
Which was probably why she was walking as stiff as a fence post.
“Can I freshen your water?” she asked.
“Thank you,” Tara said kindly.
The girl leaned in to pour into Florence’s glass first. The ice shifted in the pitcher. Her elbow bumped the edge of the floral centerpiece. She tried to correct it too fast, and the water glass beside Tara tipped over.
It happened quick.
One second, the table was perfect.
The next, ice water rushed across the white tablecloth and poured straight into Tara Kelly’s lap.
Tara gasped and pushed back from the table. The snap of Waldo’s camera got my attention, and when I looked his way, he was already taking photos of what was happening.
“Oh, my goodness!” the waitress cried. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Chairs scraped. Florence’s hand went to her pearls. Alice grabbed her napkin. I was already on my feet, snatching my own linen napkin and reaching for Tara.
“It’s okay,” Tara said, though her voice had jumped an octave.
“It’s cold,” I said, because sometimes my mouth liked to point out the obvious. “Here, let me help.”
I dabbed at the front of Tara’s skirt while Alice handed over her napkin too.
“Waldo,” I said through a gritted smile, “please do not take any photos of this.”
The waitress looked horrified. Her face had gone bright red, and she kept reaching for things and then stopping herself like she didn’t know what to touch first.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said again. “The pitcher slipped. I’m so sorry.”
“It was an accident,” Tara said, though she was now standing with wet fabric clinging to the front of her pale-blue dress. “Those photos better not see the light of day.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” I told her, but I really put the thought in the back of my head because I wanted to make sure she got the attention and care to be cleaned up.
Florence gave a small sniff. “Accidents often come from rushing.”
The waitress looked as if Florence had slapped her with the salad fork.
I shot Florence a look before I could stop myself.
“Let’s just get this cleaned up,” I said. “No harm done.”
Mary Elizabeth must have had eyes on every inch of that lawn because she appeared out of nowhere, with Dawn Gentry right behind her. Dawn had a stack of clean napkins, and Mary Elizabeth had the expression of a woman whose blood pressure was about to become a full community event.
“What happened?” Mary Elizabeth asked, even though she could clearly see what happened.
“I spilled the water,” the waitress said, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Moberly. I’ll fix it.”
“You most certainly will,” Mary Elizabeth said, but she kept her voice low enough that only our table could hear. “Go get a fresh cloth. And mind china.”
The waitress nodded so fast I thought her ponytail might come loose.
Dawn stepped in with a calm smile. “We’ll have this reset in just a minute.”
“I’m fine,” Tara said. “Truly.”
“You are soaked,” I said. “Why don’t you come with me for a second? We can walk over to the chicken coop while they change the tablecloth. It’s close by, and I promise it’s worth seeing.”