“Just thinking about what a terrible time that would be for you. I’m a disaster in the kitchen. All thumbs, I think. Percy and I tried to make a cake one year for Dad’s birthday, and it rose lopsided and was as grainy as dirt. It kinda tasted like pine tar, but I’m pretty sure that’s because Percy used too much molasses because we didn’t have brown sugar.”
Jack laughed. “I doubt Percy was the best teacher for cooking.”
“Definitely not. He excels at everything except cooking. Hence why I’m a whiz at the microwave.” She bit into the biscuit. “This is delicious. Teach me how to make these first.”
They finished breakfast and carried their dishes to the sink. Stella paused when she glanced at the calendar Arnie had pinned to the refrigerator with anI’m a Librarian. Don’t Make Me Shush Youmagnet. Arnie had drawn a blue circle around Saturday’s date. Stella stared at the circle trying to understand the significance of the day.
“Tomorrow is the Blue Sky Valley Festival,” she blurted. “How has it gotten here so fast? I forgot to talk to Arnie about it yesterday because I was so focused on the magic.”
Jack took the plate from her hands, ran it under the water, and scrubbed it clean. “What needs to be done?”
“Arnie always spearheads it. With the town committee, of course.” Stella rubbed the back of her neck. “There’s so much thatgoes on. So many vendors and people and activities. Some people use the library and others will be out on the grounds. I don’t have a map or times or anything. I bet it’s in one of the folders at the circulation desk. I also need to get my booth arranged for the military care packages.”
Jack dried the plates and placed them back in the cabinet. “You’ve been his copilot for years. You can do this,” he said. “Do you know where he keeps the folders?”
Stella nodded, grabbed her unfinished coffee, and drank the rest in a few gulps. She walked toward the kitchen window and stared out at the lawn between the cottage and the library. The space would be crowded with people expecting a completely functional festival tomorrow. A car pulled into the back lot and parked. The library wouldn’t open for a couple hours, so they were either extremely early or using the parking lot as a temporary spot.
“You’re right,” Stella said, facing Jack. “He’s so organized. I’ll go through the folders and call the head of the committee and ask her to give me a rundown. She might already know about Arnie, but she might not. I hadn’t thought to call her.”
Jack grabbed Stella’s hands. “First thing you should do is go home, shower, and change clothes. Call Vicki and Dan to make sure they plan to help out on Saturday. If you have time and you think he’ll be awake, you can swing by the hospital and talk to Arnie about specifics. I’ll clean up here and meet you in the library. Tell me where the folders are, and I’ll look through them while you’re gone.”
The image of a silver hook flashed into her mind. “I’ve been so distracted, I forgot about Hook!”
Jack wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her. “A good distraction?”
Stella blushed and then sobered. “I’m serious. We can’t have him running amok during the festival. What if we can’t find him?”
“I’ll handle it,” Jack assured her.
Looking at him lessened her worry. Her expression softened.
“What?” he asked.
She kissed his lips gently. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me feel like we can actually make this work,” she said.
Jack reached for her. “I have no doubt that wewillmake this work. Our goal will be to make this the best festival yet.”
A fist hammering on the door sounded, and Stella’s heart leaped into her throat. She looked questioningly at Jack, and he appeared as surprised as she was.
She whispered, “Maybe they’ll go away.”
The knocking persisted.
Stella shook her head. “I can’t open the door.” She pointed to her bare legs.
“I can see movement in there,” a man’s voice called through the door. A shadowy face pressed against the wavy glass window in the door.
“Percy?” Stella said. Without thinking, she unlocked the door and flung it open.
Her older brother stood on the doorstep with a cross between a scowl and a look of bewilderment on his face. He wore a teal golf polo and pressed khakis with a pair of white loafers, looking every bit the beach preppy she expected. Percy scanned her clothes—or lack of clothing—and his dark eyebrows lifted.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What areyoudoing here?” she repeated.
