“With work being so crazy, the date, um, slipped my mind.” I sounded like a total moron. “I just…I have nothing prepared.” And there was so little time to throw anything together.
“You’ve planned a hundred events for us,” Rosie said. “You threw the best grand opening celebration.”
“And don’t forget the birthday party you arranged for Miller’s niece,” Hattie added. “She still talks about the massive slip-and-slides.”
“I do have an idea.” It had come to me on the ride over, somewhere between Main Street and Pecan Lane. “My guess is Lachlan didn’t celebrate much growing up, so I’d love to recruit your help.”
“I have access to some leftover fireworks from the last Olympics.” Sylvie looked quite proud of herself. “They’re one step below dynamite. Guaranteed to light up your world.”
“A little more low-key,” I said.
“When you get your idea sorted out, tell us what you need.” Hattie’s calm demeanor provided a balm to the hectic energy vibrating in my system. “We’ll all be happy to help.”
“Glad we got that settled.” Sylvie reached for her book, stuck two fingers between her teeth, and gave a shrill whistle. “Everyone grab your yummies and take a seat.”
As we shuffled to the seating area, my anxiety lessened over Lachlan’s birthday. I wasn’t sure I could pull off my plan, but with my family’s help, it was possible. How had Lachlan managed without a family’s support? It hurt my heart to even think about.
Sylvie poured white wine into her teacup and took a fortifying sip. “Now don’t forget, next week Rosie’s hosting author Jane Montgomery. Jane will sign copies of her novelThe Pescatarian Space Alien Who Loved Me.” She settled into a royal blue chair that sported more character than cushion. “Let’s chat about our latest read. How about that limo scene?”
Frannie stood and raised her hand. “I would like to do a dramatic reading.”
Oh, geez. If she picked page 285 I was leaving.
“Read page 285!” yelled my grandma.
Rosie sat down beside me and shot me a covert eye roll. “She does the worst British accent.”
Frannie gave a solemn nod and cleared her throat. “Rochelle found it hard to remember her own name, but she’d never forget that bodyguard. His dark hair glistened and—”
A pounding on the door interrupted the performance.
“Keep going!” Pastor Mary Higgins demanded.
But the knocking grew louder and more insistent.
“I’ll see who it is.” Rosie set down her book and scurried to the front of the store.
“It had better not be my cat sitter again.” Nadine Simpkins, custodian of the elementary school, shook her white head. “I told Mr. Whiskers and Patty Pitter-Pat that mommy needed her night off.”
Rosie unlocked the antique doors with a trio of clicks. “It’s Lachlan.”
Lachlan? What was he doing here?
“Does he know you’re pregnant?” yelled Marge Beaumont.
Lachlan stepped inside and froze. His gaze scanned the room before settling on me.
“Turn up your hearing aids, Marge.” I squeezed the elderly woman’s shoulder as I passed by. I could feel the curious stares of everyone in the store following me straight to Lachlan.
“Sorry to interrupt the party,” Lachlan said to the ladies before turning his attention back to me. “I need a word with my wife.”
Frannie sank her lips into a cupcake. “Is that code for heavy petting?”
“Y’all can talk in my office.” Rosie shot me a wink. “Just know the security cameras catcheverything.”
“And she’ll use the footage to blackmail you into stocking shelves,” Hattie said. “Or so I hear.”
Lachlan took my hand and led me toward the back, past the memoir section and beyond the display of locally crafted bookmarks. Paolo gave a nod of approval as we passed by, blessing Lachlan’s attire. Tonight my husband-of-inconvenience wore dark jeans, a sweater the color of chestnuts, and a frown that put me on alert.
