Candy paused where she was setting up the food table. “Um…sure.”
“We’re going to need to have some chairs in place, and they’re going to shrink the walkway.” Heather started setting the chairs around the tables in question. “There’s no way this is enough room.”
“It’s plenty of room.” Two of the chairs clanked as Jase flicked them open simultaneously.
“Got ’em.” Candy pushed a walker through the door—hers was the Cadillac model with the hand brakes and an attached seat. Brek had one, too, which he carried his over his shoulder. His was basic aluminum with the bright-yellow tennis balls attached to the feet.
“Okay, see if they’ll fit.” Heather nodded toward the aisles.
Brek paused midstride. “You want me to actually use the walker?”
Well, yeah. How else were they going to see if they’d fit?
“Hold on, I need to grab my phone. There needs to be photographic evidence that this happened.” Velma pulled her phone from the side pocket of her purse.
Candy pushed hers to Jase. “Why don’t you go, too.”
It was the hot-guy brigade…with walkers.
Walkers in hand, Brek and Jase started down the aisle. Two hands on his walker, Brek bumped into one of the tables. He gave Heather a there-you-go look; it was not going to work.
Crap. “I think we need to put them back how I had them.”
“No, it’ll fit.” Jase was using his walker to shove the chairs out of the way à la Babushka. “See, it’s fine.”
It so was not fine. “Jase.”
He wasn’t listening, he was too busy fitting the walker through the aisle space by any force necessary.
Her stomach twisted around the ham sandwich she’d scarfed for a quick lunch.
“Maybe we need to get one of the motorized scooters,” Velma said as she held her phone and clicked photos. “Really check things out.”
“Send Eli, I’m not driving one of those.” Brek lifted his walker and held it over his shoulder like a backpack.
“Or”—Heather rubbed at her temples—“we could just put the tables back how I had them.”
That would be her choice. Thank you very much.
“Nope, this is going to work.” Jase was rearranging chairs to only one side of the table, leaving the other side bare.
It looked very asymmetrical.
“Jase, that’s even worse than before.” Heather’s head started to throb. “Let’s just put them back where I had them, and we can finish. Then I can go get my hair fixed. And you can go do whatever boys do before a big dance.”
Jase stared at the space, clearly trying to play a game of Tetris that was not in his favor. “Let me think on it.”
Heather was torn between the desire to have Jase as her date for the evening and the desire to throttle him for being so stubborn. “I’m going to go return the walkers.”
She grabbed the tennis-ball-embellished one from Brek and pulled it behind Candy’s in an exit that was anything but smooth. The aluminum frame banged against her calves as she wrangled them down the hallway.
“Heather.” Jase was jogging behind her.
“What?” She brushed a stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail.
He put both hands on her shoulders. “It’s just some tables.”
It wasn’t. This was her prom. This was what she’d never gotten to have. This was her opportunity to share how awesome this place was with new residents. This was not just some tables. “I want it to be perfect,” she said finally.
