“You’re not—crazy—are you?”
He laughs really loud. “No. Well, yes, but only in a good way. I’ve found that life’s a whole lot better if you get a little crazy sometimes.”
I nod. That definitely makes sense to me.
“What’s your name?” he asks, picking up the guitar and placing it back on its stand.
“Penny.”
“Penny.” It sounds really good said in his voice. “I’m Noah. And I’m guessing from the accent that you’re British, right?”
“Yes.”
“Sweet. And you’re a photographer?”
“Yes—well—an amateur photographer, but one day I hope to be professional. My mum’s doing the styling for the wedding here, that’s why they’ve asked me to take some behind-the-scenes pictures. So, why are you here really?”
“Really?” He tilts his head to one side, still grinning.
I nod.
“My grandma’s working on the wedding too.”
“Your grandma?”
“Yes, Sadie Lee. She’s doing the catering.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve met her.” I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not a craz?y person. I’ve met his grandma. I love his grandma. I won’t have to make a citizen’s arrest.
“I gave her a lift here this morning and she said I could hang out for a bit if I stayed out of everyone’s way,” Noah continues. “So I came through here and saw the guitar and I couldn’t resist playing it.”
“Are you a musician then?”
He gives me a funny little smile. “No, not really—it’s just something I do in my spare time. Are you hungry?”
“What? Oh, yes, a bit.”
He jumps down from the stage. The closer he gets, the cuter he gets. His eyes are as dark brown as Sadie Lee’s and just like hers they seem to twinkle when he smiles. It makes me feel all strange and light, like I’m made of feathers and could drift away at any minute.
“Let’s go get some food from Sadie Lee. But first”—he stares right at me—“can you please say ‘tomato’?”
“What?”
“?‘Tomato.’ Please, can you say it for me?”
I grin and shake my head; he is definitely crazy, but good crazy. “OK then, tomato.”
“Ha!” He claps his hands together with glee. “Tom-ah-to,” he mimics. “I love the way you Brits say that. Come on.” And with that, he strides off in the direction of the kitchen.
The kitchen now smells amazing, with one counter lined with trays of tiny jam tarts and fairy cakes ready to go into the oven and one lined with trays that have just come out. Sadie Lee is over by the huge sink, rinsing out a mixing bowl.
“Hey, G-ma,” Noah calls out to her. “You got any food that needs testing? Me and Penny here are starving.”
“Noah!” Sadie Lee exclaims joyfully, as if she hasn’t seen him for years. “Penny!” she cries, when she sees me. “You guys have met.”
“Yep, Penny caught me pretending to be the wedding singer.”
Sadie Lee looks really confused. “Pretending to be the wedding singer but—”
“Never mind—you had to be there, I guess,” Noah says, cutting her off, and then he looks at me and winks before turning back to Sadie Lee. “So whatcha got cooking?” He looks at the tray of freshly baked jam tarts hungrily.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Sadie Lee says, flicking at him with a tea towel. “These are for the wedding.”
“What, all of them?”
“Yes, all of them. But if you guys want—”
Just at that moment, Mum bursts into the kitchen. “There’s been a disaster!” she cries, causing Noah and Sadie Lee to look instantly alarmed. But I know better; I’ve seen Mum react like this when she’s burned a slice of toast.
“What’s up?” I say.
“The tiara has broken,” she says, glancing questioningly at Noah, then back at me. “It’s snapped right in half and Cindy is adamant that she has to have an authentic Edwardian tiara. I don’t know what to do! I’ve left messages at a couple of vintage stores but—” Mum’s phone starts ringing and she slams it to her ear. “Hello? Oh yes, thank you for calling back. I’m looking for a vintage Edwardian tiara—it’s for a wedding tomorrow so it’s kind of an emergency.”
We all watch in silence.
“You do? How much is it? And what kind of condition is it in? Oh, that’s brilliant. Thank you. Yes. This afternoon. Thank you, bye.” Mum sighs with relief. “OK,” she says to us, “there’s a store in Brooklyn that has one.” Then Mum’s smile curves down into a frown. “But how am I going to get to Brooklyn when I’ve still got the dress fittings for the flower girls? And I’ve got to check the cake. And meet with Cindy and Jim?” She throws her hands up into the air.
“It’s OK,” Sadie Lee says, her Southern drawl instantly calm and soothing. “Noah can go pick it up for you.”
“Sure,” Noah says, nodding.
“Noah’s my grandson,” Sadie Lee explains.
“Ah, I see. I’m so sorry,” Mum says, holding her hand out to Noah. “I didn’t even introduce myself.”
“No problem,” Noah says, shaking her hand. “What’s the address for the store?”
As Mum writes it down for him, Noah turns to me. “Want to come with me, Penny, and see some of the Brooklyn sights?”
My heart does a little cartwheel of excitement. I look at Mum. “Would that be OK, Mum? It would be nice to get out for a bit.”
Mum barely glances at me; she’s distracted by a message on her phone. “Sure, sure.”
I go over and take hold of her hands. “It’s all going to be OK,” I tell her quietly.
She smiles at me gratefully. “Thanks, darling. I’ll call the store back and pay for the tiara on my credit card so they don’t sell it to anyone else before you get there. Here, take this—it’s cold outside.” She slips off her jacket and hands it to me, then she looks at Sadie Lee and Noah. “Thanks, guys.”
“No problem,” Noah says. He turns to me and grins. “Come on then, my lady,” he says in a hilarious British accent. “Your carriage awaits.”