She handed over the sign and adjusted her parka hood lower on her face. “Lawd, child. You’re goin’ to catch your death of cold out here.” I agreed and quickly ushered her down the walk to where Jude was holding the door for us. Inside, I stomped the snow off my shoes and held out Mama’s sign for inspection. It was painted deep purple and embellished with gold stars and half-moons. Whimsical script spelled out the words The Amazing Althea, Babylonian Fortune-Teller.
“The sign is perfect! Lila, your mother is going to be the hit of the expo,” Bentley enthused, snatching the sign out of my hands and looping her other arm into Mama’s. “Come on, Althea, I’ll show you where to set up.”
“Your mother sure is something,” Jude muttered as we watched Bentley lead Mama toward the main room. I squinted his way, wondering if he was speaking flippantly about my mama, but the sincere expression on his face told me otherwise. Jude, like many of the town’s folk, seemed charmed by my mama’s eccentricities. I sighed. When was I ever going to learn to simply accept Mama for who she was and not worry about how others perceived her? After all, I knew she was amazing.
“Oh, there’s Dr. Meyers,” Jude said, pointing to a woman standing inside the doorway. I watched as she stomped the slush from her calf-hugging boots—which perfectly complemented her all-leather shoulder bag, I noticed—and brushed snowflakes from her cashmere blend coat. Dr. Sloan Meyers had a successful psychology practice in nearby Dunston. Later today, she was scheduled to read from her popular book Strong Women, Strong Marriages.
As I greeted Dr. Meyers, I told her how excited I was for her upcoming reading and discussion. She was planning to talk on how to transition into married life while maintaining your confidence and strength as a woman. Advice I certainly could use! While I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with Sean, I had a few niggling reservations. After all, I’d finally reached a time in my life when I was completely independent: Trey off to college, Mama in good health, a great job, good friends . . . Sometimes I worried about the transitions around the corner.
Just as Franklin appeared to show Dr. Meyers around, the door opened again and in strolled Chuck, the handyman. He was pulling a large tool bag behind him, the wheels leaving two wet lines on the carpet. I eyed the bag, hoping one of the tools inside would do the magic trick. Our chef demonstrations were a huge attraction; I would hate for them to be canceled.
As Jude rushed Chuck back to the service kitchen, Zach arrived with the other authors. I watched as they clamored out of the SUV, the bulk of their winter coats making them appear like puffy penguins waddling off the shore. Once inside, Lynn immediately came to my side, removing her stocking hat and running a hand through her layers of brown hair. She leaned in and whispered, “I saw Chuck’s truck outside. What’s he doing here?”
I noted the stress in her voice and explained about the kitchen’s walk-in cooler, but the more I talked, the more agitated she seemed to become. “What is it, Lynn? How do you know him?”
“He’s my ex-husband. And the reason I left the area and moved to Baytown. I thought he’d left the area, too.”
I wanted to ask more, but Bentley poked her head into the hall and called for the authors and vendors to report to their booths. “Fifteen minutes until doors open, people. Let’s all get into place.”
There was a sudden bustle of activity as everyone scrambled to their designated areas. Since I was on door duty for the first two hours, I decided to stay put and watch for early arrivals. I didn’t have to wait for long. The entire female population of North Carolina seemed to arrive at once, ushered in on a cloud of excitement and sharp giggles, shaking snow from their coats and boots and dispersing into adrenalized groups of frenzied treasure hunters. For the next couple of hours, I kept busy taking tickets, pointing out the coat check, handing out the event schedule, and answering a bazillion questions, most of which had to do with the location of the restrooms. Ingeniously, Bentley had set up the book table just outside the coat check area. So when I told visitors where to check their coats, all I needed to say was, “Just down the hall next to the book table. Check out all the great selections while you’re there. All the authors are on hand to answer questions and sign your books.” So far, Bentley’s little scheme was working well. Books were selling like hotcakes, with Pam’s Reluctant Brides of Babylon series leading the pack. Speaking of which, I wondered how things were going for Amazing Althea the Babylonian Fortune-Teller. I really did need to check on Mama and Lynn, too.
I glanced around and checked my watch. My two hours were almost up and Jude was supposed to relieve me of door duty, but he was nowhere in sight. He might be checking on the refrigerator repair. Maybe I could just get one of the other agents to spell me for a . . . “Franklin!”
Franklin hurried to my side. “Is everything okay, dear?” Franklin was such a gentleman.