Kitty nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing as we worked. For the first time since she walked in, she looked like she could breathe without remembering everything she was responsible for.
As the list came together, I felt good about it. I gave advice and let Kitty take the ownership of the decisions.
The bell over the door chimed, and the quiet rhythm we had settled into fractured instantly.
Marjorie stepped inside with a gust of cold air and enthusiasm. She stopped short when she saw Kitty and clapped her hands together.
“Oh good,” she said. “You’re here.”
Kitty stiffened beside me.
“We were just going over sound needs,” Kitty said, polite and hopeful, as if that might somehow redirect whatever was coming next.
Marjorie beamed. “Perfect. That actually ties in very nicely with the update I have for you.”
“What update?” Kitty wondered.
Marjorie adjusted the scarf around her neck and glanced between us. “Well, as you know, the Winter Carnival is fast approaching.”
Kitty nodded cautiously. “Yes.”
“And since you’re already organizing the talent show,” Marjorie continued, “it made the most sense for you to oversee the rest of the activities as well.”
“Excuse me?” I questioned.
“The rest?” Kitty echoed.
“Yes,” Marjorie said cheerfully. “Just to keep everything cohesive.”
I leaned back against the counter. “What does ‘the rest’ include?”
Marjorie ticked items off on her fingers. “The skating events, obviously. Vendor coordination for the marketplace. The snow sculpture contest. The hot cocoa crawl and the cookie exchange.”
Kitty’s hand tightened on the edge of the folder.
“What is the cookie exchange?” she said faintly.
“Yes,” Marjorie replied. “The one with the cards. Very clever, by the way.”
Kitty looked at me, eyes wide. “I have no idea what she is talking about.”
“It’s a town tradition,” I grimly replied.
“And everyone loves it,” Marjorie blithely told us. “Oh, and the cocoa crawl signage still needs to be finalized, but that should be simple.”
“That is not simple. That is an unreasonable amount of responsibility to put on one person,” I told Marjorie.
Marjorie frowned slightly, as if this perspective had not occurred to her. “Well, the previous organizer had to step away.”
“Step away, how?” Kitty faintly asked.
“She quit,” Marjorie said. “Abruptly. It’s very unfortunate.”
Kitty swallowed. “So… all of it is mine now.”
Marjorie smiled with relief. “Yes. You’re so capable, dear.”
I watched Kitty absorb the word capable. The compliment that doubled as a trap.
