Jenna’s eyes are huge, staring at me. I wink at her behind Mrs. Ellis’s back, figuring she’ll look relieved, but instead she searches my expression. Does she want me to ask her out again?
Mrs. Ellis gets down to business. “I’m here about the Fall Harvest Festival. I wasn’t satisfied with the way the meeting ended last night.” The Fall Harvest Festival takes place the last Saturday of September on a large piece of preserved land next to the Presbyterian church.
Mrs. Ellis pauses.
And keeps pausing.
Finally, Jenna bites and says, “Why weren’t you satisfied?”
“Because we still don’t have enough for the kids. It’s all about the beer tent and concessions.”
They get into a detailed discussion over the festival. Jenna’s polite and respectful, even when Mrs. Ellis declares she has the solution to bring people together—square dancing.
Jenna shoots me a horrified look. I grimace.
Mrs. Ellis goes on cheerfully. “The kids always enjoyed square dancing in gym class. They’d come back to the classroom sweaty and red faced. Good clean fun.”
“More like embarrassed,” Jenna says under her breath.
Mandatory boy-girl square dancing in gym class was definitely embarrassing at that age. Boys didn’t want to link arms with a girl. Barf. And girls thought the boys had cooties. They were always screaming about them.
“What’s that? Speak up!” Mrs. Ellis barks at Jenna.
“I don’t think square dancing is the answer,” Jenna says evenly.
Mrs. Ellis arches a brow and looks at me. “Do you agree?”
“I do. It’s not what kids are into nowadays.”
“Well, we need something!” Mrs. Ellis exclaims. “I swear, kids don’t know how to have fun anymore. It’s all about pressing buttons and staring at screens.”
Jenna looks thoughtful. “I’m sure we can come up with something, though it’s only a little over two weeks away. We can’t get too ambitious.”
“A dance-athon,” Mrs. Ellis says with a note of finality. “That’s it. We’ll do it in the big red barn from five p.m. to midnight so the dancers don’t get too tired out. Kids, adults, everyone together.” The big red barn is the long-standing home of our very own Standing O theater company.
“Hmm,” Jenna says.
Mrs. Ellis continues enthusiastically. “We’ll ask the dancers to get sponsors and use the money to fund next year’s festival and make it even bigger. People can wander over to the barn to watch.”
“We’d have to ask the Standing O if it was okay,” Jenna says. “And what about music? We’d need to hire a DJ or get a live band.”
“I’ll leave that part to you,” Mrs. Ellis says. “I’m just the idea lady. You young people have the energy to make stuff happen. Good talk.” She points to the case. “I’ll take one of those chocolate chip cookies to go. You know, just in case Harper visits soon.”
Jenna gives her a knowing look. “You’ll need a few more, then. She’s got a husband and baby now.”
Mrs. Ellis sighs dramatically. “Might as well make it a dozen. My son-in-law Garrett is a big man.” Her face softens. “Caroline is two months old and smiling now.” She opens her purse and pulls out a small wallet-size photo of the baby.
“She’s beautiful,” Jenna says with a touch of longing. Her eyes go soft. Interesting.
Mrs. Ellis shows me the picture too. Caroline is a chubby baby with a pink bow on her tiny wisp of light brown hair.
“Happy-looking baby,” I say, unsure of the appropriate thing to say.
Mrs. Ellis pulls the picture close, smiling at it for a long moment. “I wasn’t sure I’d live long enough to be a great-grandmother. Harper sure took her time finding a real man.”
I smile. That’s what she called me too—a real man. Quite a compliment from the General.
Jenna hands over a bakery box of cookies. “You’ll live forever, Mrs. Ellis. Enjoy. Tell Harper to stop by next time she’s in town.”
Mrs. Ellis pulls a crisp twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and hands it over. “I’ll call her when I get home to let her know cookies are waiting.”
She gets her change and makes her way out the door, limping a bit with her bad hip.
After she leaves, Jenna says, “She’s going to order Harper home all the way from Brooklyn so the cookies don’t go to waste. I know how she operates.” She takes her seat again and takes a bite of brownie, looking up at me under her lashes.
I’m drawn in all over again. No woman has ever compared to her.
I finish the brownie in two more bites and set the plate by the sink. “Amazing.”
“I can tell you liked it because you wolfed it down. Can I tempt you for more?”
I step closer, my gaze dropping to her pink luscious lips. “I can easily be tempted.”
“Eli.” Her voice sounds breathy.
I close the distance, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her green eyes are wide, staring into mine; her lips part.
I lean down and brush a kiss against her cheek before speaking softly close to her ear. “I’ll see you again soon.”
I straighten and meet her eyes. She puts a hand to her cheek that I just kissed, blinking up at me.
I tilt my head. “Okay there, beautiful?”
She recovers herself, standing and tidying up behind the counter. “Yes, sure, I need to get back to work. Very busy. Lots to do.”
“Bye, Jenna.”
She stills, studying me for a moment before saying softly, “Don’t be a stranger.”
I smile, turn, and walk out the door. Friends. Ha.
5
Jenna
I’m with my girls on Thursday for ladies’ night at The Horseman Inn. Sydney had to go check on something in the kitchen, but she’ll be back. We call ladies’ night our Thursday Night Wine Club. It started out as a book club—Audrey’s idea, our favorite bookworm. Anyway, we spent way more time drinking wine and chatting than we did talking about the book, so Sydney dubbed it Thursday Night Wine Club. Audrey was miffed at first, but now she has a real book club at the library on Tuesday nights for people who are much more serious about discussing great literature.
I’m nursing a dry martini, and Audrey’s sipping her favorite pinot grigio. I swear she tries to look like a librarian. I mean, she is one, but that doesn’t mean she has to dress like one, right? She’s wearing a light blue blouse with a Peter Pan collar, a navy cardigan, and gray trousers with loafers. At least her long black hair is down instead of up in a bun held together with pencils. Yes, she actually does her hair like that at work sometimes, and then she forgets about it and goes out like that at night too.
The fact that we’re both sitting in the longtime-owned Robinson family restaurant, trying not to notice two Robinson guys we’ve known our entire lives, isn’t lost on me. Eli and Drew are at a corner table at the far end of the bar, watching the Yankees on the TV. Somehow things changed. A new perspective in my case? A miscalculation in Audrey’s case? Sydney and I believe Audrey got up the nerve to tell Drew, Sydney’s oldest brother, her feelings for him sometime around Christmas last year, and it didn’t go the way she hoped. She’s been cool to him ever since. Despite the fact that we’re as close as sisters, Audrey refuses to discuss it.