A funny sense of relief blooms in my chest. “Other people have been delayed, too?”
“Over half. Yesterday we only opened for a few hours into the day before we had to shut down early for the road closures. We’re so sorry about any inconveniences. Check your email later, we’re offering a discounted rate for our next event in Mystic to make up for this mess.”
I light up. “I love Mystic.”
Her nose crinkles with her excitement. “Me too! It’s my favorite event of the year.”
“I’ll definitely check that out.”
“Have a great event! My name’s Lena. Flag me down if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay! Thanks so much.”
She waves, bustling off to meet another vendor. I grin at Cole. He returns it with a soft expression, hand resting on the small of my back.
“Here, let me push the cart. You lead the way to your table.”
We weave through the room to find my row. It’s surreal to see my business name labeling the table.
“Is it weird if I save this as a keepsake for my first event?” I ask as he wheels my supplies behind the table.
“Not at all.”
The girl at the table next to me selling candles leans over. “I have a whole scrapbook page of my first time.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel better.”
I assess my space, battling the urge to do everything at once. I need to pick a place to start to tackle my setup in order.
“There’s power,” Cole confirms.
I clap. “Oh my god, there is? I can hang up the neon sign.”
“I’ll handle it. You go ahead and work on your displays.”
“Right.”
Setting up takes longer than I anticipated. I almost run out of time when someone announces the doors open in ten minutes. My neighbor and Cole help me get the last display shelf ready with moments to spare.
“Does this get easier?” I ask her.
“Honestly, I’m still wondering that myself and I’ve been at this for three years. But you just roll with it. Good luck today.”
“Thanks, you too.”
“Come stand out here a second,” Cole says.
“But they’re letting people in.”
“I want to take your picture so you remember this moment, too.”
My heart swells with affection. He takes a few, gaze flicking over the phone to me. Before he puts it away, I borrow my neighbor to have her take one of both of us.
“I don’t need to be in it,” he says.
I hug his waist. “Yes you do. I want to remember everything about today.”
He plays with my hair while she takes our photo. A mom and daughter wander over, browsing my stuff. My eyes widen. I didn’t expect to have anyone so soon. Cole thanks my neighbor while I jump behind the table.
