No matter that she knew where everything was or understood in her head that she was now in charge of the festivals—she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong.
She felt dominated by the monster Rolodex and all the stacks of paper. Pia’s system was well organized but still relied on actual paper. There was a scent to the small office. Nothing unpleasant. Instead, it seemed as if she’d entered an ancient and sacred place where change was forbidden and those who tried were punished.
Felicia was itching to start a searchable database and put everything on the computer. Then she could relegate the old filing cabinets to storage and have some room. But not here, she thought, chiding herself for feeling superstitious yet unwilling to challenge the sense of unease.
Just one more week, she told herself. She was already set to move next Monday. Justice, Angel and Ford would be helping her. She would pack up herself and have everything ready to go. Once she was settled in her new place, she would feel more connected to her new job. At least she hoped so.
She was still worried about doing everything right. Not the logistical parts of the job—that was easy. But the rest of it. The connecting with people, the making memories. What if she got it wrong? What if she was a square peg in a round hole?
The use of the cliché made her smile. She liked clichés and common phrases. Not only did they fit easily into many situations, they implied universal understanding. Clichés provided a commonality with those around her.
Someone knocked on her half-open door. A blonde woman in her mid-fifties smiled as she walked in. She was of average height, with pretty features and a welcoming air about her.
“Hi. I’m Denise Hendrix. Do you have a second?”
Felicia knew about the Hendrix family. Ford was the youngest of the three boys. He had three younger sisters who were triplets. This must be his mother, although Denise looked much younger than she was.
“Of course,” Felicia said, coming to her feet. “I know Ford.”
Denise moved toward her, hand outstretched. “The young woman who is so good with logistics. Yes, Ford has mentioned you. From what he says, you’re going to whip our festivals into shape.”
“I’m hoping to keep them going,” she said. “I want to respect the history of the town and its celebrations. I’m not sure I’ll need a whip.”
She paused, hoping the joke made sense. Denise laughed and took a seat. Felicia settled behind the desk, relieved she’d managed to be a little funny. Humor was so complicated, she thought. Nuanced and subjective. She preferred situations where she could predict the outcome.
Denise leaned forward. “I want to rent a booth in the Fourth of July festival. Is it rent or lease? I don’t know the exact terminology. But I want a booth.”
“The city requires an application,” Felicia told her. “It’s a fairly straightforward process. Will you be cooking and serving food? That makes it more complicated. There are sanitation laws and the like.”
“No food,” Denise assured her. “I want to set up a booth so I can find a wife for Ford.”
Felicia stared at her. She must have misheard the other woman’s statement. Or not understood precisely what she meant because...
Denise sighed. “You think I’m crazy.”
“No, ma’am.”
“All right. Not crazy, but misguided.” Denise shrugged. “I can accept that. I refuse to get desperate, so I’m taking matters into my own hands.”
Another cliché, Felicia thought still stunned. “It helps to be in control,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
“Exactly.” Denise nodded. “Ford was gone for so long. I missed him every day. I know why he left and I can’t really blame him, but now that he’s home I want to keep him around. So I thought if he fell in love and got married to a local girl, he’d want to stay. From what I can tell, he’s not dating, which means this is going to take a while. That’s when I realized I don’t technically need him to find the right girl. I can find her for him.”
Felicia honestly didn’t know how to respond. This time it wasn’t her lack of social conditioning that had her silent, but the fact that her brain had suddenly, unexpectedly, gone completely blank.
“Does Ford know that you—”
“Plan to marry him off?” Denise shook her head. “No. He’ll find out soon enough, but by then it will be too late. Oh, and I’m going to find someone for Kent, too. He has finally given up on that ex-wife of his. Thank goodness. Lorraine turned out to be a total bitch. I could forgive her walking out on her marriage. It’s wrong, but, okay, relationships fail. But she walked out on her son, on my grandson, and that crosses a line in my book.”
Felicia felt as if she’d lost the ability to reason. There was too much going on and she didn’t know which thought to address first.
Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)
Susan Mallery's books
- A Christmas Bride
- Just One Kiss
- Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)
- Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)
- Sister of the Bride (Fool's Gold #2.5)
- Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)
- Only Mine (Fool's Gold #4)
- Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)
- Only His (Fool's Gold #6)
- Only Us (Fool's Gold #6.1)
- Almost Summer (Fool's Gold #6.2)