“Sure, but maybe someone will still want to change.”
“Did you even listen to the sermon today?” she spat, shoving her paper into her purse.
J.P. shrugged. “Yeah. It was about doing the right thing, even when it’s hard.”
“And don’t you think that’s a sign?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing,” J.P. challenged.
“I said I didn’t believe in karma.”
J.P. slipped both hands into his pockets and drew his shoulders to his ears. “So you think we should do this?”
“I don’t think we really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.” His shoulders flinched in another shrug.
“Do I want to work with you?” she asked. He figured it was rhetorical, and she kept going. “No, I don’t. But am I going to let a bunch of children down just because I find you incredibly annoying and immature and working with you just might push me over the edge? No, I’m not.”
“Idothink they’d be able to find other volunteers who can face paint.”
“You heard Pastor Blakely. He asked that we stick with what we drew.”
J.P. bounced his head a touch. He’d heard. “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit,” he recited, a phrase all too familiar from his childhood.
“I’m not throwing a fit,” Nora countered with contempt weighty in her voice.
“I wasn’t implying you were. It’s just a saying.”
“Never heard it.” Her arms pleated over her chest.
“You’veneverheard it? Seriously? Your mom never said that to you growing up?”
Something clouded her eyes. “I didn’t have a mom growing up.”
If J.P. were flexible enough, he would’ve crammed his big foot in his mouth. He felt like an absolute idiot. “It’s just a phrase,” he said, trying to ignore his slipup. “Since these are the cards we’ve been dealt, let’s just play nice.”
Her arms tightened around her middle in a self-hug before relaxing. Her shoulders drooped. “Fine,” she said. “We’ve got two weeks until the festival, and a lot to get done between now and then.”
“Don’t we literally just need a popup tent and some face paint?”
“Have you ever been to the Sunshine Days Festival?”
J.P. shook his head. He’d moved to Harmony Ridge last September, and while his one-year anniversary in town was approaching, he’d missed the big summertime fair.
“It’s a little more than a tent.”
“How much more?”
“Each booth is constructed from scratch. Envision a movie set or a school play. And there’s an award for the best booth given out at the end of the festival. It’s a huge honor to win.”
The only award they would get would be a gold star for not annihilating one another during the project. He wasn’t even sure they’d be able to secure that.
“This is going to take a lot of work, J.P.” she said, then looked up at him when she added, “Jason Paul.”
J.P. made a loud buzzer sound, indicating her failure. “Wrong again.”
Nora folded her lips into a scowl. “Iamgoing to get it one of these days.” She swept her palms along her skirt and pivoted subjects. “We’re going to need a work schedule.”
