“Where’s Aunt Elsie’s Wicked Good Jams?”Brandy asked.“I wanted to pick up a couple of jars of her blueberry and lemon jam.”
“Aunt Elsie’s jams are a banger,” Dave agreed.
I popped out of my reverie at their conversation and really glanced around me.
Vendors bustled around in tents and other sales booths, getting ready for the event to start.I noticed many of them wore similar Victorian-era clothing as the roaming entertainers.Or at least something that looked festive, but not over the top.No one was wandering around in their finest party store regalia like we were.
Obviously, they’d had more detailed conversations with Cameron about this event than I had.Which made me wonder if sometimes I spaced out when Cameron was talking.
I also realized that most of the vendors were businesses I’d never heard of before.Sellers offering artisanal cheeses and fancy pastries, as well as high-end, custom-crafted jewelry.Wood and leather work.There was even a glassblower.
As far as I knew, Friendship Harbor didn’t have a resident glassblower.This festival definitely didn’t look like the others I’d been to in Friendship Harbor.Usually, there was pottery, and yes, there was jewelry, but it was made with beach glass or shells.There were always lots of locals with their homemade crafts.Christmas ornaments, wall hangings, quaint and quirky handmade kitsch.
“And where are the quilting ladies?”Brandy asked.
Now that she mentioned it, I didn’t even see a single quilt hanging as I walked down the alley made along the lawn.Didn’t Victorian people actually use quilts?
“The quilting ladies are always at these things,” Dave said, frowning.
That was true.And now that my best friend from California and former child star, Oliver, was one of the quilting bee regulars and the new innkeeper of The Captain’s Inn, it seemed as though he would insist on the quilting ladies being front and center at this event.
“Well, I know one Friendship Harbor tradition I’m happy to see isn’t here today,” Sheriff Justin Pelletier said, as he strode up beside us.
“What’s that, baby?”Brandy said, talking to him in a cutesy voice that made me uncomfortable.
Ever since Brandy and Justin had started dating, Brandy had been much less neurotic but much more gooey than usual.I wasn’t sure which version of her I preferred.
“No one is drunk and no one has been murdered,” Justin said.“So I’d say Cameron’s grand opening is already a smashing success.”
TWO
Brandy let outa peel of laughter like Justin was as funny as the entire cast of Saturday Night Live.But her laughter abruptly stopped at the sound of a sharp shout, followed by more raised voices.
“I think you spoke too soon,” Dave said to Justin, although he didn’t tear his entranced gaze away from the glassblower.
We all, except Dave, turned to see who was causing the ruckus.I couldn’t locate who was shouting until I spotted Oliver in a Victorian tailcoat and top hat rushing toward two men.The men, one dressed as a caroler and the other dressed in a full Victorian St.Nicholas costume, stood nose to nose.Both men frowned in anger, their faces flushed.
Although the redness could be from the summer heat.Suddenly my cheaply made costume didn’t seem quite so bad.Better air flow.
Justin immediately headed over to help Oliver, who didn’t seem to be controlling the two men’s heated argument.Brandy and I exchanged a look and then followed.Dave remained entranced by the glassblower and the glowing molten glass he twirled at the end of a long tube.
As we approached, we could hear what the two men were saying.
“You know full well I was supposed to be Saint Nick at this event.”
“Yeah?Well, I guess you weren’t up to snuff, were you?”
“Now, gentlemen,” Oliver attempted to interrupt, keeping his voice even.“I don’t think this is the time to argue about what roles you’re playing today.”
Neither man looked in his direction.
“Excuse me,” Justin said, stepping between both men.
“Why don’t you just stay out of it, buddy?”said Saint Nicholas, the larger of the two men.I suspected that was why he had been cast as Saint Nicholas today.He stood out in the crowd with his imposing build.And his beard looked more legit too.
But Justin was also tall and imposing and did carry a badge.He also wasn’t dressed from head to toe in red velvet, so I thought that automatically gave him the upper hand.
“Well,” Justin said calmly, “I can’t really do that because I’m the sheriff in this town, and we don’t appreciate fights at our festivals.”
