I nodded solemnly.
“Aww, Bailey Boo,” my mother crooned from her side of the table. “We didn’t ask you to pitch in with the festival becauseyou’re here as a visitor. This isn’t your community. We didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
I got where she was coming from, but was it worse to feel obligated or left out?
“If you want to help out, I could always use an extra set of hands at the lodge’s booth.” Mrs. Strong smiled at me. “Somebody has to run the raffles and the silent auction.”
“She’s good, Mom. I need help at my booth.”
“What’s happening at your booth?”
The spring festivalkicked off at noon on the Friday following Easter. Jackson Falls and the neighboring city Chinook Woods both seemed to basically shut down for the event. Locals and tourists descended on the downtown area ready to partake in everything the vendors had to offer.
Bright’s booth was all about promoting his construction business. He offered on the spot consultations to everybody who walked up. Because the Strong family was a pillar of the Jackson Falls community, Bright’s expertise was highly sought after. Most of the locals who walked up to speak with him were surprised to have the opportunity.
I watched him in his element advising potential customers. He was knowledgeable, professional, and most importantly to me, polite. He had them forward him pictures of the room or rooms they wanted to remodel in their homes. He would enter the picture into a software program and walk them through a mock-up of what could be done. A few times, he even asked me to come over and comment on paint selection and other details.
“I’m not boring the hell outta you with this, am I?” he questioned when there was a lull in foot traffic.
I was shocked he would ask. “No. Not at all. I’m having fun. I like watching you turn what they have into what they could have. I like giving my input about paint colors and built-ins and stuff.”
“You have a really good eye for color and design details.” He eyed me seriously. “If you were to consider moving here, I would definitely ask you to consult periodically.”
“For real?”
“Yeah.”
I turned that thought over in my mind. “I would take you up on that.”
“Then you should consider relocating here.”
I chuckled, because I wasn’t Alisha. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to pick up my entire life and move it . . . even when it was falling apart at the seams. Relocating just seemed like another humongous change in a list of ever-growing changes in my life. “And on that note, I’mma get something to eat. I’m starving. You want something from Brewer’s booth?”
Bright gave me his order. I walked down the street, weaving between couples holding hands, children running, and groups of girlfriends or sisters laughing and chatting. One thing I couldn’t help noticing was that everybody seemed happy. The vibe of Jackson Falls was super laidback. Nobody was in a hurry to get to a specific destination. People seemed like they were enjoying exactly what they were doing—strolling through the town’s spring festival. It was so different from Chicago. And I liked it, but I wasn’t sure I liked it enough to leave the familiar for the unknown.
At Brewer’s booth, I selected the Dungeness crab cakes, truffle fries, and fresh-squeezed lemonade. As I turned to walk away after receiving the food, I almost bumped right into Collins.
“Hey.” I gave her a huge smile and a one-armed hug. “How’s it going at the Posh Moments booth?”
Before she met Beckham and relocated to Jackson Falls, my sister was the owner of an upscale salon called Posh Moments in Chicago. After a fire destroyed everything, she met Beckham and his family while on vacation at the lodge. Mrs. Strong asked her if she would be willing to reopen the defunct salon at the lodge. Collins agreed, naming the salon Posh Moments at The Manor at Sienna Sunset. I loved my sister’s story. It was hella romantic to me. Her dream burned to the ground. While she was mourning the loss, she found a new dream and a man who loved and cherished her.
“Good. Good. Thank God for Perkins and Malaysia. They’re holding it down. Your niece has been cutting up in there all day.” She rubbed her belly lovingly, though she was staring at it sternly. “I had to stop doing actual demonstrations and just start verbally explaining the hairstyles.”
“You think you might be getting close?”
She nodded. “I’m thirty-six weeks and six days. She’s full-term now. She can come at any minute and she wouldn’t be considered premature. She might be ready, but I’m not.”
“Then sit down somewhere and stay off your feet. I can’t believe Beck is even letting you do this booth. You should be sitting down somewhere,” I fussed.
“I am. I am. I just came to get some food. This pregnancy’s made me greedy as hell.”
I eyed the sister who was closest to me in age. The one that I knew as well as I knew the back of my own hand. “Collins.” She started laughing before I could even get the sentence out, because she knew where I was going. “Don’t be blaming my niece for your greediness. You’ve been greedy.”
“I know. I know.” She guffawed, barely able to catch her breath. “I just wanted to see what it felt like to say that.”
And that made me guffaw.
As the sunsank lower in the Jackson Falls sky, turning it from a clear pale blue to a canvas of muted oranges, pinks, purples, and yellows, a popular old school R&B group took the stage in the makeshift bandstand. The Strong and Kingsley families co-mingled, dancing and singing along with the familiar refrains of the choruses of songs we all knew. Soon, as the sky grew darker, the band switched from their up-tempo songs into soulful love ballads. I looked around at almost all of my family members coupled up and swaying to the easy tenor of the lead singer’s voice.
