Chapter Twenty-Six #3
The rep rattled off all of the details, including the date and a window of availability. Emma bit her lip as she scribbled it all down. This was still cutting things close. She’d have to drive down a mere two days before the festival.
“Also, there may or may not be anyone to assist you at the loading area, so you need to make sure there’s someone in your party who can lift fifty pounds. I also need you to be aware that this is a significant volume of inventory.” The woman hesitated. “I’d bring a truck, if I were you.”
A truck. And the capacity to lift fifty pounds. Right.
“Of course,” she stammered.
“Great, I’ll send you an email confirmation, and we’ll see you soon.”
After thanking the woman profusely, Emma ended the call, set down her phone, and wrote, in giant letters at the bottom of her mile-long to-do list, GET TRUCK / MUSCLES FOR JERSEY TRIP.
“So, that sounds like it went well?”
Emma jerked her head up to find half of the crafting club standing at the counter. Hattie led the charge, one of her brows quirked upward in question.
“Everything’s fine,” Emma lied. She nudged her notepad aside. “Is there anything I can help you all with?”
Toni laughed. “More like, is there anything we can help you with?”
“Don’t bother pretending you’ve got it all under control,” Abby counseled. She tipped her head to the side. “Betty was standing next to the register for like ten minutes eavesdropping and she told us everything.”
Betty put a wizened hand over her heart. “I would never eavesdrop.” When everyone turned to her with narrowed eyes at once, she dropped her hand. “I was very interested in…” She picked up a book that had been left on the counter and paled, but soldiered on. “Seduced by the Alien Assassin.”
“That’s actually a really good one,” Hattie said, sotto voce.
Owen chimed in, “I’d be happy to ring that up for you, Betty.”
Betty’s mouth puckered before smoothing back out, and she set the book down. “Maybe next time.”
“Anyway,” Toni said, all business, “Granny Smith hung you out to dry with respect to Harvest Fest, and now you’re scrambling.”
“She does this all the time.” Christopher reached across the counter to pat Emma’s hand. “Don’t take it personally.”
“She does?”
“Well, maybe not exactly this,” Abby said thoughtfully. “But something like this.”
Hattie nodded. “She always says she ‘has a good feeling’ that it’ll all work out.”
“And does it?” Emma asked.
“Yeah,” Owen assured her as he wandered past, “but it’s still a giant pain in the butt.”
While Emma was distracted, Hattie snuck closer and stole the notebook with Emma’s epic to-do list and held it up. “Okay, so we need a tent for the booth.”
“Oh, I can take care of that,” Toni offered.
Emma tried to grab her notebook back. “Hey—”
“Thanks, Toni.” Hattie plucked Emma’s pen right out of her hand this time and wrote Toni’s name next to the first bullet item on the list. “A sign.”
Christopher raised his hand. “My boyfriend’s sister owns a little screen-printing business. They can probably get that done for you.”
“Thanks, Christopher.” Hattie wrote his name down, too.
“I can call,” Emma interrupted.
Hattie held up a hand to silence her. “Lunch delivery for the guest authors—I’ll handle that. Plus I bet I can get Chef to throw in some extra treats for the table.”
Abby peeked over Hattie’s shoulder before glancing at Emma. “I’ll put together some fall florals for the table. I’m also decent with website stuff, if you want some help there.”
“Look.” Emma raised her voice a little this time. “This is all very sweet that you’re offering to pitch in, but—”
Toni’s brows rose in a way that brooked no nonsense. “If you’re about to tell us you can handle it, save your breath.”
Emma’s mouth snapped shut.
“There’s no point arguing with her,” Christopher said.
Hattie shrugged. “Welcome to small-town life. Everybody’s all up in your grill all the time, but every now and then, they get up in your grill in a good way.”
They all gazed expectantly at her for a minute. To her surprise, the edges of her eyes prickled.
She blinked a couple of times, then exhaled. She held out her hand until Hattie forked back over her notebook and pen. Swallowing, she met Abby’s gaze. “So, florals and website updates, then?”
Abby grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Emma wrote Abby’s name next to both tasks with a flourish.
She kept scanning the list. There were a lot of items she really, actually did need to handle herself, like putting up a pre-order for signed copies of the guest authors’ books.
But anything that could reasonably be delegated, she went ahead and read out, and sure enough, volunteers raised their hands for at least half of them.
“What about that last item?” Hattie asked with a wink.
GET TRUCK / MUSCLES FOR JERSEY TRIP
A tiny twinge of guilt twisted her gut, but she ignored it. How many times had Hunter told her she could lean on him? Literally and figuratively.
She closed her notebook with finality. “Actually, I think I’ve got just the right person in mind for that.”