9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
I help Hunter set up his tables, then I go back to my booth to pull my fanny pack out of my tote bag. The fanny pack has my change, my charge card reader, and a little notebook I use to jot down ideas I get from talking to customers.
A crack of lightning flashes as thunder rolls. The storm is upon us.
I groan and look around. The first drops of water hit the nylon tent roof.
I glance at Hunter, and his eyes are as wide as mine.
“Pull your tables towards the middle,” I tell him as I pull my collapsible wagon to the middle of my tent, pulling a table over it.
As the rain falls harder, three ladies rush under the protection of my tent. One of them is my mom’s best friend.
“Hi, Celeste,” I call .
“Oh, Phoebe,” she says. “It’s great to see you. Hope you don’t mind us hanging out here.”
“Of course not.”
She introduces me to her cousins, who are visiting from Iowa.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, as I hurry to help Hunter move his tables to the middle.
A large puddle forms in front of his booth. He points to it. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s a lot of rain already. I hope it doesn’t last long.”
After his tables are safe and dry for the moment, I return to my booth, where Celeste is holding out a soap to her cousin Tawna.
“This is delightful,” Tawna says, passing the soap to Debbie.
“I’ll take two,” Debbie replies, handing me cash.
I give her the change. Then Tawna picks up three bars of the black-cherry scented soaps that are shaped like cupcakes. She hands me a credit card.
“I buy from Phoebe all the time,” Celeste tells her cousins. “She has a boutique downtown. I’ll have to take you there next time you visit.”
“Wow, that’s fantastic,” Debbie says. “Enterprising.”
I smile, not sure if her comment is a compliment or a putdown. I get those; some people think a woman shouldn’t own her own business, that she should just aspire to marry and have babies.
Celeste nods. “It’s amazing. There are several artisans with space in Phoebe’s shop. She gives them the opportunity to earn extra money. But Phoebe has all the risk and overhead of owning the store. ”
Celeste gets me. I love Celeste. She even came to the paint party when the whole 4,000-square-foot space got a fresh coat of French-Vanilla-Cream-White. At least I think that’s what the name of it was.
Twenty minutes later, Celeste has given a history lesson on the town of Lichtenburg. I’ve barely listened. One, I know the history; I paid attention in class. And two, every minute that ticks by during this rainstorm means fewer people at the festival and fewer sales.
I feel my wallet shriveling up as each raindrop falls.
I try to appear engaged, but in my head, I’m thinking about ways to increase store traffic in the next three weeks and the possibility of creating an online store.
Maybe I can have a sidewalk sale, a dance party, an open house with refreshments, or a bingo night.
Anything to get people in the door and shopping.
The online store has been on the to-do list for ages; maybe now is the time.
The storm finally lets up, and Celeste and her cousins hurry off.
I glance over at Hunter and see him stretched out in his chair with his feet up on the cooler again. A pond of water pools under the cooler. Maybe he’s keeping his feet on it so it doesn’t float away.
“Hunter? You all right?” I ask, making my way over.
I step under the edge of my tent, and a large drip of water lands on top of my head.
“Dandy,” he says, standing. “Wish I’d brought rain boots.”
“I know.” I step closer. “It’s a muddy mess.”
“Stay over there and out of the mud. I got this. ”
“I don’t know what you’ve got, but it’s not pretty. Here, I have towels.”
At my wagon, I pull several large dish towels out of a tote. I always bring them, just in case.
“Use these,” I say, taking a few to Hunter.
His hand brushes mine as he takes the towel, and I feel a shot of electricity zip through my body. My eyes widen, and I gasp. A grin splits Hunter’s face. Did he feel it, too? I glance at the ground. Was there an exposed electrical circuit activated by the water?
He chuckles. “Thanks for the towels.”
If he says nothing about the electrical shock, maybe it was my imagination. Or just me. Likely just me.
I pull my tables further apart, and wipe up the puddles of water I find. I check the weather application on my phone and think the rest of the afternoon will be clear, but will the shoppers come back?