“Yeah,” she said with a nod, eyes drifting back to the fruit in her hand. “Maybe I will. I do my best to duplicate her recipes.” Justine regretted saying it the moment it slipped from her lips. “But,” she hurried to add, “baking’s not really my thing. You know me, I’m better with a sander and paintbrush than I am with kitchen utensils.”
“Well, you keep bringing your furniture to the autumn festival and we’ll all be happy,” Toby said with a kind grin. “My wife’s got her eyes on one of those rocking chairs this year. Says she wants to cuddle the new grandbaby in it.”
“Well, that makes me glad that I’m selling two of them this year. She’ll have her pick.” It was a beautiful image. One that had her wondering how many times Grams had rocked her as a child. And had she ever shared such a moment with her own mother before she’d taken off?
Another question came to mind. One that had begun to nag at her recently—would she get to cuddle a baby of her own one day? It had never been much of a question before, more of a given. But the prospects in town were…well, she’d grown up with most of them, and as kind as they were, she couldn’t see herself marrying a one of them.
The trouble was, Justine had no interest in dating someone outside of town, particularly the businessmen who tore through in such a hurry, anxious to catch their next buck and be where the action was.
She considered that as she ventured toward the cranberries. It would probably add a very bright spot into Grandpa’s Thanksgiving if she learned how to make Grams’ fresh cranberry tart this year. Perhaps Mimi would help; she and Justine’s grandma were quite the team in the kitchen.
She tossed a bag of cranberries in the cart, then moved to the rhubarb next. Who cared if she hadn’t mastered the pie recipe?
“Hey, I meant to ask,” Toby piped as she set the freshly bagged stalks into the cart. “With the autumn festival approaching, you think we might get the chance to meet that successful fiancé of yours?”
Justine barely covered a gasp.How in heavens name had he heard about that?She’d specifically told Gramps not to tell anyone.
Mrs. Whipple, Justine’s third grade teacher, wheeled her cart nearby as well. “I was wondering the same thing,” the woman said, making her way to the granny smith apples. “Outsider or not, he should definitely be at the town’s largest annual event.”
“Especially seeing that you’re the one who puts it all together,” Toby added.
It felt like a furnace had taken residence in her chest. Fire hot flames that fanned heat right into her face. “True,” she admitted, guessing that, if shedidhave an out-of-town fiancé, she’d want him to fly out for it. “I don’t think he’ll be able to make it this time.”
Okay, things had officially gotten out of hand. And bythingsshe meant the little white lie she told Gramps to get him off her back about finding a man.
The shocking thing was, it had worked. The white lie, as she liked to think of it, bought her total freedom from the man’s pestering about finding someone. He did, however, bug her about meeting him sometime.
But this…this was too much. She had not expected him to spout it off to the whole town. Especially since she’d asked him topretty pretty pleasekeep it under wraps.
As Justine looked between Toby and Mrs. Whipple, thoughts of coming clean probed her mind.Just tell them what you did, why you did it, and ask them to not give you away.
“Yeah, Justine,” came the unmistakable nasally voice of her old classmate, Brittany Clementine. “Do tellus about your rich dreamy boyfriend who’s planning to marry you but…oops, he’s never even come for a visit.”
First of all, Justine had never claimed he was rich, just too busy with work stuff to leave—Gramps must have done that on his own. Moreover, Justine hadn’t told one other living soul that she was engaged.
Her desperation to squash the lie grew stronger still, like a foot hovered over a very poisonous bug, one that—if it wasn’t squashed—would only keep growing bigger.
She spun around, daring herself to do that very thing until a glimmer of gold caught her eye. Gold that shone from Brittany’s left ring finger.
“Oh, this?” Brittany said proudly. “Isn’t it pretty? Trevor gave it to me last night. It’s notexactlyan engagement ringyet, but I’m pretty sure he plans to pop the big question on Christmas Day.” She stared at the band for a moment, then tugged at the hem of her bright orange skirt. Brittany’s wardrobe consisted of fitted colorful stretchy skirts that hiked up her legs as she walked.
Wow, Trevor was actually planning to make the big move. Justine tried to ignore the stinging sensation pooling in her gut. She could admit that jealousy played a part in that reaction, but more than that, Justine felt sorry for the guy. How was it that someone so kind was attracted to someone so cruel?
“But enough about me marrying the town’s greatest catch,” Brittany said. “We want to hear more aboutMr. Invisible,I mean wonderful. Mr. Wonderful.” She tipped her head back and cackled out her trademark laugh. The shrill pitch hadn’t changed since grade school.
Justine gritted her teeth. “Maybe later,” she said, tightening her grip on the cart. “I’m running late.”
She forced a polite nod to Toby, then to Mrs. Whipple before spinning on one heel. She had to get out of there. Should she call Gramps on her way home or drive straight out to his house instead?
“Looks like you’re planning to enter the Pie Pageant this year,” Brittany blurted from behind. “That’s good. I always love a little healthy competition. And since I’ll probably be sayingI dosometime soon, this will likely be my last year to enter. But for you, there’ll always be next year.”
Justine rolled her eyes at the snide comment.
“If I winthisyear,” Brittany continued, “I’ll be the first girl to win Pie Princess three years straight.”
Boy did Justine wish she could give her a run for her money. She hadn’t cared much about winning in years past, but this time, she’d love nothing more than to take the title from Brittany and rub it right in her face, along with the pie itself.
Stop, Justine.With thoughts like that she was no better than the mean girl herself.
