Chapter 21 #2
We reached the tent, and before I’d even taken my seat, Jo had shoved a plate of haggis in my hand—a crumbly mound of spiced oats and meat. It wasn’t that it looked bad—it just looked like a lot at a moment where stress was taking up so much space in my stomach that I had no appetite at all.
Isla laughed at the look on my face, catching it on camera. “Just try not to think about the fact it’s cooked inside a sheep’s stomach.”
I shot her a side-eye. “That’s not as helpful as you think.”
“You’ve got this. I promise. Close your eyes and down the hatch.”
I picked up my fork, scooped a pile of haggis onto it, and jammed it into my mouth before I could overthink it. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow. The taste was…interesting, new and unusual and—
“Next plate!” Jo announced, swapping mine out before I’d even had time to finish my rating card.
“This one has my signature raspberry jam mixed in for an added sweetness,” a woman said cheerily as she looked up and down the table at the panel of judges.
Raspberry and sheep’s stomach? Oh boy.
“It’s basically like Thanksgiving dinner,” Isla said as I stared down at the plate.
I scooped a forkful, jammed it in my mouth, and swallowed it. My stomach burbled. How many of these were there again?
Isla stopped in front of me and snapped a photo. The inside of my mouth had turned sour. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth. Was I going to be sick?
No.
No.
I was fine. Another forkful in. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow.
“Next plate!” Jo called, and it continued on like that for far too long. But somehow, blessed by the gods of the Highlands themselves, I managed to get through every single plate and submit my rating cards before the force of my burbling stomach required that I hurry away.
This wasn’t nerves. This wasn’t nerves. This wasn’t nerves, I chanted with every step.
I’d never walked so fast in my life, darting between the crowds as I headed for the port-a-loos.
The last thing I wanted to be doing was hugging a plastic toilet, but the haggis was roiling in my gut, and I could tell it was about to make a reappearance.
I didn’t know if it was the unusual combination of flavors, the sheer volume of haggis consumed, or the fact that I was still so stressed making sure each part of this festival went off without a hitch, but the back of my throat already tasted like bile.
I darted around the corner at the end of the street and BAM!
A line.
I groaned, feeling my face drain of its color. I wasn’t going to make it.
“Lena?” Isla called after me. “Are you okay?”
Jo followed her around the corner, concerned. I waved my hand in front of my face like a fan, but the heat was eating its way across my body, my skin prickling as I swallowed down the nausea.
“M’fine,” I croaked.
I was so not fine. I clasped one hand over my mouth, the other pressed to my stomach.
“She’s gonna be sick!” someone yelled. And then suddenly there were hands on me, steering me to the front of the line and straight into one of the port-a-loos. The door slammed shut behind me, and I leaned over the toilet, heaving up every last bit of haggis.
Raspberry jam was now on my shit list.
When I stepped out of the bathroom ten minutes later, I was shaky and a little clammy, but better overall. Mostly because my stomach was empty.
Isla squeezed my arm when she found me. “You okay?”
I nodded, laughing a little. “Clearly stress and haggis judging don’t mix.”
Jo rushed to my side, looping her arm around me as she stuffed a water bottle in my hands. “Drink.”
“Thank you.” I took tiny sips, flushing out my mouth and replacing the fluid I’d lost.
“You shouldn’t be running around after everything like this,” Jo said. “It’s too much.”
I didn’t want to say it was the haggis that had turned my stomach. “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little overheated and dehydrated.” I held the water bottle up. “This’ll help though. I’m already feeling much better.”
Jo eyed me with concern.
“I should get back out there.” I gestured down the street. “Make sure everything’s running to task.”
“Why don’t you just take a break,” she suggested. “Sit down in the shade. I’ll find Weston for you.”
“No need,” I insisted. “I’m fine, really.
” And I was. The nausea had settled. The spell was over.
And now I needed to get back to work. I gave Jo and Isla a wave and set off swiftly with my clipboard again.
There were only twenty-five minutes before Weston and I were due on stage to give a speech and unveil the plaque we’d had made in honor of Pete’s contributions to Braeburn all these years.
It would be hung in the community center going forward.
When I’d broached the idea with the committee, they’d been enthusiastic and encouraging, which made me realize just how much the community had cared about Pete in return.
It was easy to see how that affection and appreciation now extended to Weston, and by proxy, me.
I knew so many of the townspeople by name.
I’d come to know their families and their interests, and even in the short time we’d been here, Braeburn was really starting to feel like a place I could call home.
I mean, Houston was home, technically. But that was because it was where my job was. If Weston had decided to move cities within the US, I would have gone with him. And sure, I would have missed my beignets, but I would have quickly adapted to a new place.
But here, in Braeburn, things felt different. Here, it was almost as if—
“Lena!”
I whirled around at the sound of my name and the familiar voice that actually felt like home. I let out a startled laugh. “Tess?”
What the hell was she doing here?
She raced through the crowd toward me. I opened my arms, catching her in a hug. “You’re in Scotland!” I said, pulling back, still stunned.
“I’m in Scotland,” she agreed, beaming.
“How? Why? When?” I couldn’t believe she’d managed to keep this a secret from me.
“Weston invited me for the festival to surprise you,” she said. “So…surprise! He thought you might enjoy having some company from back home to see all your hard work. But it’s such a mob scene here, it’s taken me half the afternoon to track you down.”
I hugged her even tighter as warmth seeped between my ribs. “He invited you?”
She nodded. “He said you were probably going to need someone to remind you to put your clipboard down.” She playfully tugged it out of my hands, scanning it. “Oh, yes, right here. Take a break with Tess.”
I couldn’t believe he’d done that for me. I thought Paris had been special, but this? Bringing my best friend out here just so I could enjoy the festival with her? I immediately wanted to find him, to thank him. I grabbed Tess’s arm. “I need to introduce you two, properly.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I need to thank him for all the caviar I ate on his fancy jet.”
I laughed, knowing she most definitely wasn’t kidding. Tess would have absolutely made the most of the experience. “Did you get into the champagne fridge?”
“Oh, you know it. But we’re not gonna talk about how much I drank. Because what happens in the air, stays in the air.”