The problem? These vases were balanced precariously on a rickety wooden table.
The second my arm brushed the edge, the whole display wobbled. My attempt to steady it only made things worse, and in slow-motion horror, I watched as one vase toppled, setting off a chain reaction that ended with half the table’s contents shattering on the ground—probably a dozen vases.
Anna whipped around at the sound of breaking pottery. “Oh my gosh,” she muttered, rushing back to the stall. Hal and Tom were close behind.
The vendor was a wiry older man with a weathered face. He glared at the destruction, his jaw tightening. “What in the?—”
“I’ve got it covered,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “Hal. Tom.”
Hal stepped forward. “Yes?”
“Pay him,” I whispered, gesturing to the vendor, whose face hardened, his arms tight over his chest. “Cover everything. Whatever it costs.”
The vendor’s eyebrows shot up. “Whatever it costs, huh?” He let the words hang in the air like a challenge, his weathered face betraying no amusement.
Anna groaned audibly, dragging her hands down her face. “What a disaster,” she muttered before turning to the vendor. “I’m so sorry about this.”
Hal stepped forward with his wallet, looking as awkward as someone who had just walked into the middle of a family argument. “Uh, how much are we talking about here?”
The vendor tilted his head. “These were hand-painted vases. Genuine work by a local artist. Let’s say... a hundred bucks each.” He gave a slow, deliberate shrug. “That would be a steal.”
Anna winced, crouched, and picked up one of the unbroken shards. She flipped it over. “Made in China,” she read flatly. “Local artist, huh? I wouldn’t pay more than twenty dollars per vase. And that’s generous.”
Hal froze, a credit card suspended in the charged air between them. “Sooo... what do I do?”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “One hundred dollars a vase is fine.”
Anna shot me a look that could’ve turned me to stone. “Are you serious? You’re just going to let him make up a number?”
“It’s not like we have time to haggle,” I said, glancing around nervously. The last thing I needed was for this little incident to become an internet sensation. I turned back to the vendor, who was leaning on his stall with a smirk, enjoying the show. “What’s the damage?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
“Two thousand,” the vendor replied without missing a beat, folding his arms.
“Dollars? Two thousand dollars?” Anna looked like she was going to explode.
“Done.” I turned to Hal. “Give him the card.”
Anna’s jaw dropped. “You’re just going to hand over two grand like it’s nothing?”
I shrugged. “I’ve spent more on a pair of shoes.”
The vendor chuckled, swiping the credit card with a flourish. “Pleasure doing business, mister...?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I looked around to make sure no one was getting too curious.
As we walked away, the tension between Anna and me was palpable. I couldn’t figure out why she was so upset. The vendor had probably made enough to pack up his table for the day. She spoke first.
“You didn’t have to just throw money at the situation,” Anna said under her breath, not looking at me.
“I fixed it, didn’t I?”
Anna straightened, her expression somewhere between exasperation and resignation. “Next time, try not to destroy half the stall.”
“Next time,” I said, half-joking, “I’ll shop online.”
Her eyes narrowed, slicing through me like a warning. “This isn’t a joke. You can’t just buy your way out of everything. People here care about authenticity. If you keep this up, you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Fine. I’ll... try harder.”
