“Just doing some editing on an article I’ve been working on. It was still light out when I started, but between then and now, the sun must have set.”
“It tends to do that at night.” Faith tugged the cork out of a bottle of wine that had been sitting on her counter all week. She didn’t even take a look at the blend, just poured herself the fullest glass she could manage to carry with her to the couch without spilling.
“You’re in a…mood.” Anthony eyed her too-full glass, along with the scowl etched on her face.
“I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed,” Faith admitted as she sank into the cushion to take a seat next to her friend. She toed off her shoes, kicking them aside before tucking her legs up beneath her. “I hate to tell you this because I know you have a lot riding on it too, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to pull off this whole Sweetheart Soiree thing. I’m in so far over my head I can’t see above water.”
Anthony folded his laptop shut and moved it to the coffee table. “Yeah? What’s going on?”
“We don’t have our permit.” She shrugged, trying to keep the threat of tears out of both her eyes and her voice. “And there’s still a lot of criteria to meet before the fire department will even sign off on it.”
“But don’t you know a guy?” Anthony said in a way that almost felt like lighthearted teasing. She didn’t want to be teased right now.
“I do know a guy. And what I know of Mitch is that he won’t clear anything until everything is fully up to code.” Not that she would want him to cut corners, anyway. That wasn’t what this was about. She just didn’t feel like there was sufficient time to get everything done. Honestly, the permit was only a small portion of that challenge.
“How can I help?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. I’ve got the extra fire extinguishers that we’ll need on order. I’ve spoken with Trinity about the decorations and their flammability. I’m working on the arrangements and placement for the live band. It’s just a waiting game for everything to come through at this point.”
“Hard when the clock is ticking down.” Anthony smiled thoughtfully. “I get it. I’m sorry.”
“It’ll be okay.” She hoped it would, at least. Because if she had to cancel the soiree in the eleventh hour, she wasn’t surehow their small town would take it. This was a special event that everyone looked forward to all year.
“So, are you and that firefighter…?”
“Mitch?”
“Yeah.” Anthony nodded. “Are you and Mitch a thing?”
“I don’t know what we are.” Faith tilted her head back and took a long sip of the red wine. It only tasted moderately better than the bottle she’d shared with Mitch, but that wasn’t saying much. “We kissed last night, though.”
Anthony’s eyes widened in shock. “Seriously? You’ve got to fill me in.”
“There’s not much more to it than that. One minute he was trying my meringues, the next we were kissing. It happened so quickly it was all a blur.”
“Have you even dated anyone since Kevin?”
Faith shook her head. “No, and I haven’t really wanted to. But I don’t think Mitch and I are dating, really. It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I mean, if you both like each other, it doesn’t need to be complicated.”
“That’s an oversimplified way of looking at things, and to tell you the truth, nothing about me and Mitch has ever been all that simple.”
Anthony gave his friend a heartfelt grin and an affectionate pat on her leg. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. I think you guys would look great together.”
Faith was rooting for them, too, even though it felt like everything else might be stacked against them.
It was Thursday.The day before the soiree.
And there still wasn’t a permit in sight.
Faith had wanted to cry, and probably would have if she just let herself.
Instead, she pressed forward, clinging to the small shred of hope that all would work itself out in the end. Even though she knew better—that miracles were oftentimes more fiction than fact—she carried on, making preparations for an event that more than likely would never be.
She had twelve dozen cookies, eight dozen mini pies in flavors ranging from cherry to blueberry to peach, four trays of brownies, and hundreds of meringue kisses on the menu. The cookies would take the least amount of time, along with the brownies, so she woke up at three that morning, drove to the bakery with sleep in her eyes and resilience in her spirit, and got straight to work. By lunchtime, she had those two desserts all packed up and stored and had the pastry shells for her pies cut out and pressed into their tiny individual tins.
She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. She had already counted on that, downing a double shot of espresso from Bitter Cold to aid in keeping her awake and alert. The fact that all of her desserts would probably go to waste was a possibility she just wasn’t willing to consider. Not when there was a determination within her that urged her to keep going.
