Chapter Eleven Unleashing The Bennet Sisters
Kitty
The kitchen at the SnowDrop Inn had never been quiet, but that morning it had taken on a particular kind of hum. The kind that came from too many people doing too many things at once, all of them convinced they were helping.
I stood at the center of it with a mug of coffee I had not yet remembered to drink and a legal pad already half full of lists. The table was covered in papers, sticky notes, and one unfortunate plate of toast that no one seemed willing to claim.
Lucy sat at the far end, flipping through a stack of printed emails with the expression she usually reserved for poorly thought-out renovation plans.
Jane had positioned herself near the counter, calmly sorting index cards into neat piles.
Lydia hovered beside me, leaning over my shoulder and trying to read what I was reading.
Meri occupied the only chair that had not been pulled close to the table, her book open in her lap, though she glanced up often enough that I knew she was listening.
Caleb stood near the sink, jacket draped over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up, reading a vendor list with focused concentration. He had been there for almost half an hour already, and I was still not entirely sure how that had happened.
“All right,” I said, tapping my pen against the pad. “Let’s start with what we know. The Winter Carnival now includes the talent show, the skate night, the cocoa crawl, the cookie exchange, vendors, and snow sculpting.”
Lucy looked up. “When you say it like that, it sounds like a huge undertaking.”
“It feels like one,” I said.
Jane smiled gently. “We’ll break it down.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” I said, grateful. “Breaking it down into sections where it seems manageable.”
Lydia clapped her hands together. “This is exciting. It’s like you accidentally became the mayor.”
“I did not,” I said quickly. “Please don’t say that out loud. I am already doing enough.”
Meri turned a page. “Too late, I heard it and I second the nomination .”
Caleb cleared his throat softly to get our attention. Even though he had a sister, I had the feeling he was intimidated by the five of us all together.
“I made a rough equipment list,” he said, stepping closer and handing the paper to me.
“This is everything we will need for sound across all the events. I can cover most of it from the shop, but I may need to borrow a few things for the larger spaces. I already know who I can get the equipment from, none of this will cost the town anything.”
I glanced at the list and felt my chest loosen a little. It was a huge part of the project just taken care of.
“This is amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”
He shrugged lightly. “It’s manageable when it’s written down.”
Lucy leaned over to look. “You’re a good influence.”
He smiled faintly. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Jane slid a stack of cards toward me. “These are the acts for the talent show. I sorted them by type and estimated time. I also have a tentative reject pile with contact names and numbers so we can call them up and let them know they just won’t suit a family friendly event.”
I stared at her. “You did that already.”
Jane nodded. “It seemed helpful.”
“It is extremely helpful,” I said, and meant it.
Lydia pointed to a brightly colored note stuck to the edge of the pad. “I took care of publicity ideas.”
Lucy groaned. “That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “We need enthusiasm. As long as we don’t get a huge influx of people, I’m sure it will be okay.”
“You need to restrain yourself, Lydia. This is a small town event,” Lucy countered.
Caleb glanced between them, amused. “Is it always like this?”
“Yes,” Lydia and I said at the same time.
Meri finally closed her book and stood. “What do you need me to do?”
I hesitated. That old instinct to say nothing or to insist that I could handle things rose up immediately.
I ignored it since that feeling always led me into trouble.
“Could you handle performer communication?” I asked. “Emails, questions, clarifications.”
Meri nodded once. “I can do that. While I’m at it, I will cancel your tentative reject pile.”
“Thank you,” I replied with immediate relief. Meri would know just what to say and wouldn’t be tempted to let any inappropriate acts stay if they tried to wheedle their way back in.
Meri had a backbone, I reflected.
Dex appeared in the doorway, coat open, expression curious. “I was told there would be coffee.”
“You were told correctly,” Lucy replied. “But you’re late.”
Dex gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he poured himself a mug of coffee and surveyed the mess of paperwork on the table. “What’s all this?”
I took a breath. “The Maple Ridge Winter Carnival.”
He paused. “All this?”
“Yes.”
He smiled slowly, shaking his head as though he should have known better. “Of course it is.”
Braxton followed him moments later, rubbing his hands together against the cold. “Why does it look like you’re planning a coup?”
“Because she is,” Lydia said cheerfully, pointing at me.
Ephram trailed in last, still shrugging into his jacket, eyes widening as he took in the scene. “I thought we were going on a breakfast date?”
“We are, sort of,” Lydia told him, grabbing him a cup of coffee. “It’s breakfast here and conquering the local Winter Carnival.”
I opened my mouth to apologize and stopped myself. “We’re organizing the WInter Carnival and apparently that means anyone who walks into the inn gets assigned something.”
Dex raised his mug. “Fair warning.”
Caleb shifted slightly beside me, clearly aware of the way the room had changed. “We’re figuring out logistics. There are some recent additions to make sure they get planned.”
“The Carnival starts tomorrow,” Ephram looked at us all in bewilderment. “You’re telling me no one has organized anything?”
“We need the permits,” Lydia sweetly told him, handing him an envelope.
Braxton nodded immediately. “I can help with setup.”
Lucy looked at him. “You’re volunteering?”
“I am,” he said easily.
Ephram cautiously accepted the envelope, looking at the contents. “Wait. Volunteering for what?”
“For this,” Lydia said, gesturing broadly. “Welcome to the Bennet experience.”
Dex smirked. “You get used to it.”
“I absolutely will not,” Ephram said. “How do you live last minute? These forms aren’t even filled out.”
“I’m sure you can handle that,” Dex replied, taking a sip of coffee.
I watched the exchange with a strange mix of amusement and disbelief. The room felt fuller now, louder, but also steadier. The weight on my shoulders shifted, redistributed in small but meaningful ways.
“All right,” I said, raising my voice just enough to be heard. “If you’re here, you’re helping.”
Caleb met my gaze, something warm and steady there. “Tell us what you need.”
I looked down at my list, then back up at the people crowding my kitchen. For the first time since Marjorie had dropped the words Winter Carnival like a live wire, I felt something close to confidence.
“Okay,” I said. “First things first. We need to figure out who is going to be responsible for what. I need a list and your phone numbers so we can coordinate.”
Dex leaned back against the counter, coffee in hand. “That’s a good strong start.”
I ignored him and focused on the page. “The Winter Carnival breaks down into five major parts. The talent show, skate night, the market vendors, a cocoa crawl, and the cookie exchange.”
Ephram raised his hand cautiously. “Why does that sound like a survival challenge?”
“Because you just arrived,” Lydia said sweetly. “You can do the permits, right?”
“I suppose so,” Ephram reluctantly agreed.
“I’m writing that on the list,” Meri decided, grabbing a pad of paper. “What’s your phone number?”
Caleb stepped closer, grounding the moment without taking it over. “Let’s assign by strengths, not enthusiasm. That way things are more likely to get done.”
Lydia made a wounded sound.
Lucy nodded. “Agreed.”
“All right. Caleb is already handling sound and staging across events,” I told Meri, who wrote it down.
Caleb inclined his head once, accepting it without fuss.
“Jane,” I continued, “can you oversee anything that needs food or drink with Braxton’s help?”
Jane smiled. “Yes. I already have ideas about the Hot Cocoa Crawl.”
“Just remember there are rules for the Cookie Exchange,” Caleb warned. “I can forward you last year's announcement. I think my sister still has a copy.”
“You have a sister?” Lucy asked.
“Irrelevant. Let’s keep focused here,” I reminded them.
“Meri,” I said, turning to her, “you’re in charge of performer communication in regards to the talent show.”
Meri nodded. “Consider it taken care of.”
I exhaled. We were making good progress.
“Lucy,” I said, “I need you on logistics with Dex for the Christmas market. I have a stack of vendor forms and they need to know where they are setting up, who gets hydro, what the times are, all that..”
Lucy gave me a look that was both approving and wary. “This is a lot.”
“I know,” I murmured.
“We can do it. If Lucy and I could organize the annual Fitzwilliam and Hale Christmas party, we can do a Christmas market,” Dex confidently said.
“Okay, the Christmas market is ours,” Lucy agreed.
“Lydia, can you take over skate night and snow sculpting? Caleb has the music, you just need to let people know, ensure the times, and have someone judge any contests,” I requested.
“Absolutely. What are the prizes?” Lydia asked.
We all paused.
“I don’t know yet, but I will find prizes,” I decided. I turned last to Ephram, who had gone very still. “And you…”
He blinked. “Me.”
“Yes,” I said. “Besides permits, you’re… flexible.”
Lydia laughed. “Oh no.”
Ephram glanced around. “What does flexible mean in this context?”
“It means,” I said carefully, “that you are now helping anyone who needs an extra hand with something. Everyone, please don’t abuse poor Ephram.”
He opened his mouth to object.
Dex clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”
“I’m not in the family,” Ephram said weakly.
“You’re dating Lydia,” Lucy replied. “That’s the same thing.”
Lydia beamed.
The room buzzed again, but this time it was productive. Chairs scraped as people repositioned. Papers were shuffled into new piles. Jane started labeling stacks with quiet efficiency. Dex began sketching a rough vendor layout on the back of an envelope.
Caleb leaned toward me slightly.
“You’re doing well,” he said, low enough that only I could hear.
I swallowed. “I feel like I’m making it up as I go.”
“Everyone does,” he said.
I almost laughed.
When the meeting finally wound down, the kitchen looked like it had survived a storm and remained standing. Lists were refined while responsibilities were assigned. My head still ached a little, but it no longer felt like it might split open.
People drifted out one by one. Dex lingered long enough to refill his mug and give me a look that was all quiet approval.
“You’re good at this,” he said.
“I’m learning.”
“That’s how it works,” he replied as he followed Lucy out of the kitchen.
Then it was just Caleb and me again, standing in the suddenly too-quiet kitchen.
“You didn’t have to be here but I really appreciate that you are,” I said, meaning everything.
He met my gaze evenly. “I wanted to.”
I smiled because I believed him.