I felt that thought drop like a stone in my stomach.
But what about my goals? What about my office? I needed Carol to sell the B&B for me to reach my goals. Marissa wanted to leave me far behind. Anyway, why should I avoid convincing Carol to sell? We would both be getting what we hoped for. The imaginary British gent flashed in my mind again, and I considered skipping planning her trip all together.
I felt my phone vibrate in my front pocket and dried my hands. It was a text from Marissa.
Marissa: You ready for tonight?
Scott: Yep, the fishing booth is painted and dry and has people torun it. I was thinking maybe we should do a trunk for the law firm. Only if it wouldn’t stress you out. I know you already have a lot going on. I could do it by myself.
Marissa: That is a great idea. What should we decorate the trunk as? Do you want to do costumes?
Nope, of course, I didn’t want to do a costume. But Marissa would love it.
Scott: I think costumes sound fun.
Marissa: You do? Fun! How about Peter Pan? I have a Tinkerbell costume from a few years ago somewhere. Could do a clock face or something for the trunk for Big Ben?
Right, Big Ben, in Europe. Because she was leaving.
Scott: Right, since you'll get to go see it. Great idea.
Marissa: Right, because I'm leaving soon . . . I guess we should figure all those details out.
I could not read enough into her text. Was that likeright, because I'm leaving and super excited so don’t get attached . . .or likeright . . . because I'm leaving but would rather stay here with you?
Text had to be the worst way to communicate.
I was sure it was the first way. That was what she had always wanted. She didn’t want to stay, and neither did I.
Scott: I'm fresh out of Peter Pan costumes . . . but I will figure something out.
I would figure it all out.
Chapter Twenty
MARISSA
Suggestingthe matching costumes might have been a bit much, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I loved these sparkly wings, and I was pretty sure this skirt with these tights made my legs look longer than they were, which, at my height, was always a plus.
I wasn’t dressing up to impress Scott; I reminded myself as I adjusted the little star gems near my eyes and made sure I had no stray hairs from my bun. I reapplied my berry lip gloss and took a deep breath.
Hopefully, everything went well, and the neighborhood didn’t form a revolt against me.
He said he would have everything prepped for the law firm’s trunk. I decided to check on Carol. The last few times I saw her, she’d looked minutes from falling asleep where she stood. Was I not doing enough to help?
Maybe running these community events was too much for her. Would I want to run them for her?
And where would that leave London and findingmyself?
I walked across the field towards Carol, the fallen maple leaves crinkling under my feet.
“Oh, there you are.” She sighed and handed me some string and clothespins. “Will you take this over to the boys running the fishing booth and remind the basketball team that the haunted Red Riding Hood trail needs to be kept at a PG level of scary?”
I reached over and gave her a hug. “I got it. Give me the clipboard of things that need finishing and go sit down. Or better yet, get a donut first, then relax. I’ve got this.” I felt sure. I could do this, and a small surge of pride trickled through me.
Carol rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not as young as I used to be. It’s becoming too much for me. Especially since John died. I don’t think we would've pulled it off this year without you. Honestly, Marissa, you have a gift for organization and loving the people in this town.” I walked Carol over to the bench near the pond. She needed to sit.
Carol leaned back against the seat; her shoulders slumped. “I know I promised I wouldn’t ask, but I would love it if you took this place over. With your mother gone, and no babies of my own, I always kinda thought of you as mine.” Carol reached over and grabbed my hand in hers. Her eyes started to tear up. She was never emotional. This was too much for her.
