Chapter 7 #2
When I reach the main building that houses the gift shop and administrative office, I stop in to say hi to Delores, a woman in her sixties with brassy red hair who’s been running the gift shop for thirty years. Then I pop in to chat with Natalie for a few minutes before I continue my route.
I stop to help out in the snack bar for twenty minutes because the line is way too long. We need to hire some extra staff. Maybe we can take on some temps for a few weeks until the surge of interest dies down.
Finally, when the lunch rush clears out, I move on to the rose garden and the duck pond. A few people ask if they can take a selfie with me, but otherwise I’m unbothered since I look busy on my tablet.
It’s not until I reach the wedding gazebo that my good mood falters.
Our facilities can handle three weddings on Saturdays if the times are staggered and two of them are smaller.
We have the main pavilion for the larger weddings and events, followed by receptions in the mansion, but couples often choose this gazebo or the English garden or the platform next to the duck pond for the smaller wedding ceremonies.
The gazebo is already cleaned up after the very small wedding held yesterday evening. I take the steps up into it and scan the painted wood and built-in curved benches, checking for any damage or trash.
It’s perfect, and I make an entirely useless notation on my tablet.
I’m about to step down and move on when I hear a female voice saying, “There she is!”
I turn to see the group of girls from that SUV all running excitedly in my direction.
They can’t be older than their early twenties, and there are six of them. They’re all smiling and laughing and excited, so I pause to smile and greet them.
But when they’ve gotten into the gazebo and are crowded around me, I suddenly get scared.
I don’t know why. I’m convinced it’s irrational even as I feel it stabbing through my chest and gut. But they’re all on top of me. All at once. I back up instinctively and keep backing up until I’m trapped by the rails of the gazebo.
They’re asking a flurry of questions about me and Wes and snapping photos at the same time. They’re on some sort of high that’s being fed by each other because in no way should encountering me be that exciting to anyone.
I try to answer a few of their questions and then say I need to get going. But they won’t back off and they won’t shut up. One of the girls touches my dress, and another one squeezes right beside me to take a selfie, her cheek smack against mine.
And I panic. They’re not hurting me, but they won’t leave me alone, and I feel trapped in a way I’ve never experienced before. Like I’m helpless. Like they can do anything they want to me.
Like I’ll never be able to stop them.
“Please,” I manage to force out. “Please back off a little. I need to go.”
They ignore me, talking over each other in a flurry. I can’t hear any individual voices anymore. Only an overwhelming roar in my ears and my head and my chest.
I know rationally it’s not an emergency, and I also know I need to be louder and more authoritative. So I try again. “Please, I need some space.”
But I’ve never been a loud person or a forceful one. When I’m scared, my instinct isn’t to fight back. It’s to hide. So I can barely get the words out, and I hate that I’m like this.
Why the hell can’t I stand up for myself, even against a bunch of college girls?
“Hey!” The voice comes from below the gazebo. Loud and gruff and familiar. “Back the hell off her. Right now!”
It’s Jake. I know it even before I see him stride up the steps to the platform.
The girls react immediately to his voice and presence, making off with a flurry of apologies and a rushed retreat.
He glares at them until they’re out of sight, then turns toward me. “You okay, girl?”
“Y-yes.” There’s a sob in my voice, which is absolutely ridiculous. I take a few ragged breaths until I’ve managed to control it. “Sorry. Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“They were acting like a bunch of damn starlings, crowding out a bird feeder and not caring who they trample in the process. Never seen anything more shameless. Did they touch you? Did they hurt you?” He’s big and rugged and can come across intimidating, but he’s not.
He’s worried about me, and I can see it in his eyes as they search my face.
“They didn’t… didn’t hurt me. I just got scared for no good reason.”
“There was good reason. You’re looking real shaky. Let me walk you back to your cottage.”
Part of me feels like I should object since the gesture will take him away from his work, but the offer is exactly what I want right now.
I don’t want to be alone where strangers can get to me.
So I thank him and keep my eyes downcast as we walk the rest of the way to the gate and then down the drive that leads to the cottages.
When we reach the front door, Jake stands, looking down at me and bristling.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m fine, and nothing really happened. I just felt kind of trapped and overreacted.”
“Y’all gotta stop this nonsense.”
“No, no! It’s been all fine until just now. I’ll be more careful.”
He doesn’t look convinced. He’s glowering but not at me.
“Please don’t tell anyone I was so silly.” I gaze up at him beseechingly. “I’m already embarrassed about it, and it was no big deal. Please don’t tell.”
He mutters something I take for reluctant agreement, so I’m able to escape into the cottage.
No one else is there. Natalie is still in the office, and Audrey went to her university library in Baltimore to do research.
I lock the door, shake off the lingering fear, then climb up to the loft so I can hibernate until I feel better.