“We need posters,” I said, pointing to a pair of high schoolers near the back. “Kenzie, Wyatt, that’s you. Big and colorful and impossible-to-ignore. Think you can handle that?”
They grinned, faces lit from the phones in their hands. “Oh, absolutely,” Kenzie replied.
“Great. And… sign-ups for the pie contest.” I scanned the room until Mrs. Henderson waved both arms from the corner, balancing her purse and her planner as she jostled through the crowd toward us. “Perfect. You’re in charge. Just… notonlygluten-free, okay?”
That got a ripple of laughter. Mrs. Henderson sniffed, but her lips twitched like she was trying not to grin.
I kept going, swept along by the energy in the room: booths, decorations, and new volunteers for set-up and clean-up. Many of us signed up for double duty, collectively filling the gaps left behind by Claire’s gala. Margot scribbled furiously, interrupting now and then to demand names and phone numbers. I had no idea how we’d pull it off, only that we would.
For the first time since the carnival company cancelled their contract, the Summer’s End Festival felt real again.
By the time the crowd trickled out, Marigold’s resembled the aftermath of a hurricane—Rhett’s carefully laid paper floor was crumpled and torn, and the counter had my sneaker prints all over it—but I felt more energized than I had in weeks.
I sagged against the wall, mind reeling as it struggled to catch up with reality.
“That was… something.”
Rhett, who had been lingering at the back, stepped forward with a black garbage bag in hand. “You continue to impress me,” he said casually, as if it didn’t make my heart squeeze.
I rolled my eyes. “You must be easily impressed.”
“I’m not,” he replied bluntly, stooping to rip a section of paper off the floor. After a long silence, Rhett looked up and met my eyes. “It’s a family trait,” he muttered before turning away.
No words passed between us as I strode to a different area and began tearing large chunks from their tape and crumplingthem into balls. My breath caught in my throat as the floorboards beneath caught the light. Crouching, I ran my palm over the glossy surface. A pang of awe tangled with uneasiness in my chest.
“Rhett?” I said, finding him on the other side of Marigold’s. “What did you do?”
When he turned, his eyebrows drew together with concern. “Is something wrong?” He dropped the bag stuffed full of construction paper and quickly approached.
I fell back on my haunches and traced the floorboards around me with both hands. “You put new floors in.”
“Only a few boards. The rest I just sanded and re-stained. They were so warped from the water leaks and the burst pipes, I…” Rhett rubbed the back of his neck and knelt beside me. “If you don’t like the color, I can change them.”
“No, no,” I said, swiping at the sudden tears on my lash line. Shaking my head, he looked back at me with sheer horror in his eyes. “I don’t know why, but seeing them made it feel like a piece of my grandmother was gone.”
Rhett raked a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Georgie. I still have them—”
My laugh, clear and hopeful for the first time in days, interrupted him. I sniffled and tucked a curl behind my ear. “I love them—trust me. They’re beautiful.”
After a moment of hesitation, he sat on the floor beside me, back against the counter. His hands met in his lap as he twiddled his thumbs together and stared at his boots. “I never got to go to my uncle’s funeral.”
The sudden revelation hung between us. I hugged my knees to my chest and waited for him to continue.
“My parents, they uh—” Rhett’s jaw clenched while he seemed to search for the right words. “Him and my dad grew up in Bluebell Cove, you know?” His eyes, shining and bare, metmine for a brief, sweltering moment. “My dad always said he gotout. Made something of himself. And my uncle, he… well, he didn’t.”
I worried my bottom lip between my teeth as my stomach began to clench. He might as well have been talking about me.
“But that didn’t stop them from sending me here every summer. They’d rather that than cancel their vacations.” Rhett paused and dragged in a long breath. “Anyway… they didn’t think to tell me when he passed. I had to find out from my uncle’slawyer, of all people.”
“I’m sorry, Rhett,” I whispered, fighting the urge to throw my arms around him.
He swallowed and tilted his head back against the counter, gaze falling back on me. “I just… wanted you to know that I get how it feels. Nothing’s wrong with you, okay?”
My heart slammed against my ribs. Rhett always saw through me—past the chaos and the carefully manufactured pretense that I wasfine. But this was different. Beneath it all, I recognized him, too. Understanding him left me raw and exposed, like a live wire dangling above a pool of gasoline.
The only thing I was sure of was that if I reached out, we would both combust.
After a stretch of silence thrumming with everything left unsaid, I ignored the lump in my throat and averted my eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Rhett,” I murmured, before forcing a smile on my face and hopping to my feet. “And thank you for these floors. Although I might miss wondering every morning if I’m going to fall through.” My laugh was small and hollow.
