Had she really meant it?
20
Sadie
It was the morning of the maker fair. My alarm blared too early. The last couple of days had been spent helping Parker’s brother Remington put the finishing touches on the maker fair and also prepping the rest of the food I was selling at the Between Her Biscuits stall.
Yawning and drinking coffee, Erika and I stood outside Jasmine’s front door. I was in the middle of texting her when Amelia ran up, Jasmine beside her. Both women were in exercise clothes.
“Don’t worry about waking anyone up,” she said. “Only Puff, the corgi, is asleep.”
“You two seriously are making the rest of us look bad,” I complained as Amelia and Jasmine laughed.
We loaded all the food into Jasmine’s SUV then drove over to the convention center.
“This is such a beautiful space!” I gushed. Even though I had spent the last few days over at the historic brick complex, I couldn’t experience enough of the grand architecture.
While toting all the food and supplies to my booth, I waved to Parker. He was at the Rural Trust booth at the front. Kaitlyn was there with him; she glared at me.
“That’s your competition?” Erika scoffed as we wheeled the pans of food to my station. “I wouldn’t be too scared.”
“She’s gainfully employed and owns her own condo. Plus Parker flat-out said he didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Ones he tastes your biscuits, he will,” Erika said emphatically.
I was planning to make fried chicken, fried peach and cherry pies, mac ’n cheese, and of course biscuits. I heated the oil in the deep fryer while Jasmine and Erika cut out the biscuits. I could have prebaked them, but there was nothing worse than stale biscuits; they should be hot and fresh out of the oven.
The smell of freshly baked biscuits and fried chicken drew a crowd.
“Sure are a lot of people out for early in the morning,” I said.
“They know all the good food’s going to be gone if they don’t get moving,” Ida said as she walked briskly up to us, followed by a gaggle of other seniors dressed in neon-pink track suits that bore the embroidered logo for Bath and Body Twerks.
“These ladies are my saleswomen. We need sustenance before we hit the pavement and sell sex to the masses. How did you like those dildos, anyway, Sadie?” Ida asked as Erika handed her a chicken biscuit and a fried pie.
“I didn’t use them!”
“It’s all that alcohol; it dries you out,” Ida said sagely. “You need to try this.” She dug around in her large satchel and pulled out a jar. “This is organic homemade pumpkin lube. Ernest had a bumper crop this year, and I convinced Hazel to try her hand at making it.”
Jasmine took it and opened it. “Yum! It smells like Thai food!”
“It’s the coconut oil,” Ida explained. “Lubes you right up. And—” she continued before I could give the jar back to her, “it’s on the house.”
“I don’t—”
“I know all about your little problem,” Ida stage-whispered. “A man will eat this right up.”
I rubbed my temples.
“Mark my words!” Ida continued as she swiped her credit card. “You’ll be making cherry jam in no time!”
My friends and I stared at Ida’s retreating form.
“I need a drink,” I muttered as we turned to help the next customers.
I turned to take another pan of biscuits out of the oven then swung back to the counter.
“Can I help—oh, Parker.” I had to crane my head up. He was so tall! I tried to fight down the image of him shirtless. “Parker, did you come for my biscuits?” I said, hands on my hips. He peered at me.
