by Terri Osburn
Flipping open her own copy, she said, “I propose we hold a two-day event between the end of September and the middle of October to avoid conflicting with the county fair, Labor Day festivities, and Halloween events held on Main Street. Because the festival would involve closing a small area of Fourth Street, I suggest the event be held on a Saturday and Sunday.”
Spencer had argued with her to present the information as “I propose” instead of “We propose” as she’d wanted to do. Yes, he’d helped a great deal with the details, determined to cut off any argument Winkle might make, but the idea was all hers, and she deserved the credit.
“As you can see on page three, I’ve mapped out a suggested layout, which would be discussed and perfected by a planning committee should the proposal pass, that shows vendor booths offering non-edible products from the corner of South Margin down Fourth toward the theater. Closer to the Ruby parking lot would be the food vendors, either in booths or their own trucks, if applicable.
“Then, in the parking lot would be a children’s section in the far corner, with a main stage set up against the back wall of the building. How often the stage would be active will depend on how many acts are booked, but as of right now I have a solid commitment from Wes Tillman to be our headliner.”
That revelation sent a buzz throughout the room. Spencer ventured a glance at Jebediah and was almost jubilant to see his cheeks turn red. The mayor had to know there would be no swaying the committee to his side with Wes Tillman already on board.
Mike more than came through on that one.
“There will be a small fee for anyone wanting to host a booth or food truck, and all festivalgoers will also pay a small admittance fee. With the right advertising, we should be able to raise a significant amount of money for the restoration. Are there any questions?”
The room seemed to hold their collective breaths, much like the attendees at a shotgun wedding when the preacher reads the “speak now or forever hold your peace” part.
“How much do we have to pay Tillman to perform?” Jebediah asked, honing in on the one aspect that could make or break the proposal.
Without missing a beat, Lorelei answered, “Mr. Tillman is donating his time as well as supplying all PA equipment for the festival. Free of charge. In addition, he’s offering a cash donation to be used toward advertising the event.”
The buzz returned, louder this time. But Jebediah wasn’t giving up yet.
“And parking? If you intend to bring in substantial crowds, they’ll need someplace to park.”
Again, Lorelei had a ready answer. “I’ve contacted all the churches along Church Street. All have agreed to let us use their parking lots. Between the Catholics, Methodists, Protestants, and Baptists, that’s six large lots. If those fill up, we’ll still have curb parking.” Jebediah opened his mouth to speak again, but Lorelei didn’t give him the chance. “Stallings Hardware has also offered to supply shuttle transportation from Main and Bridge Streets if it becomes necessary for attendees to park that far away.”
Winkle shot Buford a hard look, to which the former mayor only grinned.
“Anyone else?” Lorelei said, but no one raised their hand. She turned to Buford as she stepped back from the podium, her job done and the fate of the proposal in the hands of the committee members now.
The vote took only seconds, and with a smack of the gavel, the Restore the Ruby fall festival was approved.
She’d done it. By some miracle, she’d pulled it off. And with only two easy questions from Mayor Butthead. What were the odds?
“I told you you could do it,” Spencer said for the third time. The man really did enjoy being right.
“We did it,” she argued. “The parking thing was your idea. How did you know he’d ask that?”
“Jebediah and Grady Evans showed up at the booth last Saturday evening full of fire and vinegar about the festival. I kept telling him nothing had been proposed yet, but he continued to fire arguments, and the parking was one of them.”
“Thank you, annoying mayor, for being stupid enough to give us advance warning.” Lorelei followed Spencer into the restaurant. Granny and Pearl had already gone in. Annie and Granny had hit it off right away, and the older woman was dying to introduce Spencer’s lovely aunt to her best friend, Pearl.
When they finally reached the party, Lorelei was surprised to find enough chairs for all of them and a bottle of sparkling wine on the table. “You were so sure this would work, you ordered something for a celebration toast?” she asked.
“We’ll be toasting something, I hope, but it isn’t the festival proposal.”
Pulling out her chair, Spencer waited for Lorelei to sit, then shifted the chair next to her. Only, instead of sitting down, he cleared the chair out of the way and dropped to one knee.
“Holy crap,” she said, her hands covering her mouth. This could not be happening. Spencer pulled a box out of his pocket and her heart stopped. This was totally happening.
“Lorelei,” he said, his face solemn and serious. She hoped he didn’t expect her to match that look, because she was feeling anything but solemn or serious. He opened the box to reveal the diamond-and-ruby ring from Snow’s shop. The one she’d longed for since the moment she saw it. “Will you marry me?”
And once again, her throat threatened to swell shut. Blood pumped in her ears, creating a roar that blocked out the dinner noise around them. Though if she’d had eyes for anyone but Spencer, Lorelei would have known that everyone in their vicinity had stopped eating, watching with rapt interest.
He didn’t know everything yet. Lorelei had yet to explain what had happened with Maxwell, and Spencer deserved to know. To understand exactly what kind of woman he was considering spending the rest of his life with.
She tried to answer, emitting little more than a squeak. Happiness was drowning out the doubts, stealing her ability to form words. Spencer had professed that he could never stay mad at her. Surely he would understand once she explained.
“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked, his face growing more animated.
Lorelei nodded so hard she was afraid her head might pop off and roll into the kitchen. And then she was up and in Spencer’s arms and he was kissing her and nothing had ever felt so right in all her life. This was her chance to make up for all her bad decisions of the past.
When the kiss finally ended, she was surprised to find that they were receiving a standing ovation from the other guests. Tears were streaming down Granny’s cheeks, and Pearl, too, was dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her napkin. If anyone found it odd that the groom-to-be’s former wife had enveloped his future wife in a tear-filled hug, no one said so.
Once all hugs were exchanged and congratulations granted, Spencer popped the cork on the sparkling wine, and everyone toasted to the couple. Everyone except Carrie, who settled for a glass of sparkling cider, but she clinked with the rest of them, as if her drink were no different.
An hour later, Spencer led Lorelei to his truck, where Lorelei took the opportunity to come clean about what had happened before she’d left California.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, pulling up short as Spencer reached to open her door, “and I’d prefer if you weren’t driving when I do.”
Spencer looked concerned, but said only, “Okay then. Do I need to be sitting down?”
She considered the question. “Yes. This might be easier if we’re sitting down.”
This was a make-or-break moment, after all. She may have been wearing a ring, but they’d been through this routine before and not made it to the altar. If he was going to marry her, he needed to know everything.
“Is this another one of those bad timing things on your part?” he asked as he lowered the tailgate. “Because I’d much rather be home celebrating our new status. Preferably naked.”
“We’ll see how you feel after this,” Lorelei mumbled, lifting herself onto the truck and waiting for Spencer to have a seat. Her heart told her he
’d understand, but her head wasn’t so sure. After several seconds of chewing on a nail, she decided to start with some backstory. “Shortly before I left LA, I was seeing someone.”
“I’m not going to like this story, am I?” Spencer asked.
Lorelei answered honestly. “Probably not, but I hope you’ll hear me out.”
Nodding, he said, “Go on.”
“His name was Maxwell Chapel. I waited on him right before my shift ended one night, and after I clocked out, I joined him in his booth and we talked until dawn. The connection was instant. He said all the right things and was the first guy who showed an interest in a long time. Well, the first guy with a job and money and who wasn’t selling drugs or taking them.”
“Lorelei,” Spencer said, “I was married during our years apart. I never expected you not to have dated someone during those years. The fact that you’re here and not there is all I need to know.”
“No, it isn’t.” She turned to face him, holding eye contact. “Maxwell and I were together for nine months, and I thought he was the one—until someone paid me a visit. It was his wife.”
Brown eyes narrowed. “You were seeing a married man?”
“I was,” she admitted, “but I didn’t know it.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t know it? How do you not know someone’s married?”
“LA isn’t like Ardent Springs,” Lorelei said, the words coming out faster in her need to explain. “It’s huge and if someone wants to live two or even three lives, they can do it. If I’d known he was married, I never would have gone out with him. And I broke it off that day. Unfortunately, that meant losing my apartment, since Maxwell had been paying for it.”
Spencer grew still. “You let him pay for your apartment? Did he live with you?”
“Not technically, though he did stay often. There were signs I should have picked up on. I couldn’t call him, I could only text. I could never see his place because he had roommates that were messy.” She hopped off the truck in agitation. “I mean, what thirty-three-year-old man has messy roommates?”
Spencer seemed to catch on that the question was rhetorical and held silent.
“And he traveled, of course,” she continued. “That’s like the age-old lie, right? I wouldn’t see him for a week or more at a time because he had to be out of town on business.” Lorelei jammed her left hand into her hair, which got caught on the new ring. “Ouch,” she yelped.
“Hold on.” Spencer extracted the hair from her ring. “You okay?”
“See?” she said, spinning the ring as if trying to take it off. “It’s a sign. Your wife cheated on you, and I helped a man cheat in California. That means I’m no better. And you deserve better. Much better.”
“You said you didn’t know.”
“But I should have known. Blind ignorance isn’t much of an excuse.”
“Lorelei,” he said, taking her hands to stop the spinning. “You didn’t willfully hurt anyone. If anything, you were as much a victim of that jerk’s infidelity as his wife was. None of this changes the fact that I want to marry you. If anything, I’m thankful that he turned out not to be the one for you.”
Lorelei let Spencer pull her into a hug and squeezed him tight, thankful she’d fallen in love with the most patient man ever. “I should have known,” she repeated. “You were always the one for me, Spencer. The only one.” Pulling back, she asked, “But are you sure you want to be stuck with me forever? Faults and all?” she added with one raised brow.
“Faults and all,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After a long kiss to seal the deal, Lorelei traced her thumb along his jawline.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t want to think I’d spoiled two marriages?” she asked. “I know I’m not the best person in the world, but that would have been too much, even for me.”
“The fact that it matters so much to you is proof that you’re a better person than you think. And then there’s always the fact that you took in my pregnant, abused ex-wife when most people would have looked the other way.”
“There was no choice,” Lorelei argued. “I couldn’t leave her to be beaten, or abandon her when she had no place else to go.”
“Exactly,” he said, dropping a kiss on her nose. “Some would, but you couldn’t. That’s why I love you, Lorelei. Because deep down you’re just a softie with a heart of gold.”
Shaking him, she said, “If you tell anyone that, I’ll never forgive you. I have a rep to protect.”
Spencer laughed. “Then how about I take you home so you can show me what a bad girl you are?”
Unable to hold in her own laughter, she said, “Spencer Boyd, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. How fast can you drive?”
“Pretty fast.” Spencer dragged her toward the passenger-side door. “But if we can’t wait,” he said, lifting her onto the seat, “we can always find a secluded place to park.” Wiggling his brows, he added, “I’ve got blankets behind the seat.”
Before Lorelei could reply, he’d closed her door and was running around the front of the truck to his own. How had she ever thought to put this man out of her life? Clearly a case of temporary insanity. Thank goodness she’d been cured, because she never intended to endure another day without him.
Epilogue
The first Saturday of October dawned warm and clear, relieving a smidgen of the anxiety Lorelei carried for the day ahead. Ardent Springs had endured massive storms for several days, threatening to drown out her big day. After all she’d been through, Lorelei would scream if Mother Nature put the Restore the Ruby Festival underwater.
In three months, the five-person planning committee of Lorelei, Nitzi Merchant, Jacqueline Forbes, Mabel Handleman, and Carrie Farmer (with the help of several minions, as Lorelei liked to call them) organized what was sure to be a highly successful event.
Or so Lorelei hoped.
Along the way, Lorelei had outed herself as Lulu, but only to her small group of committee members. She was determined to sell her treats during the festival, and instead of reserving a booth anonymously, she revealed herself as the mysterious baker. To her relief, the confession was met with support and encouragement. She only hoped the festivalgoers—meaning her fellow Ardent Springs residents—would react the same way.
“You’re robbing me of the bestselling product I carry,” Snow said as she surveyed Lorelei’s booth twenty minutes before the gates were scheduled to open.
“It’s only for this weekend,” Lorelei replied, spreading her pumpkin spice cookies around the ceramic pumpkin that would hold the cider. “And you don’t even sell my stuff on weekends.”
Once Carrie had taken over at the construction office, Lorelei had used the time on her hands to up production to five days a week. Sunday through Thursday she turned out a wide variety of cookies, brownies, and breads, which Snow then sold Monday through Friday. Thankfully, the locals could not seem to get enough.
“I plan to in the spring,” Snow said. “In fact, I’m giving you an entire section of the store. It’ll be Lulu’s Home Bakery inside Snow’s Curiosity Shop. Kind of like when they put a coffee shop in a bookstore.”
Lorelei stopped what she was doing and looked up. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am. We may have to renegotiate the split, but there’s plenty of time for that.”
Ignoring the issue of money, Lorelei said, “So I’d have my own counter that I’d man myself? I could even have a display case?”
“We could set up tiny tables, too, for people to sit down,” Snow said with a grin.
Not only would Lorelei have her own business, but now she’d have her own place to operate that business. She could maybe even rent an entire space all her own someday.
“I’ve seen that look,” Spencer said as he joined them at the booth. “What evil schemes are you planning?” he asked, snatching a cookie off the tray she’d painstakingly arranged.
“Spencer Boyd, you t
ouch another one of those and you’re going without for a month. And I don’t mean without cookies.” Lorelei shifted others to fill the void he’d created. “I was thinking about the future,” she said, unwilling to speak her dream aloud quite yet. Maybe when they were home and could talk about it in private. She didn’t want Snow to know she was thinking of abandoning her before they’d even gotten started.
“Does that mean you’re ready to set a date?” he asked, hope alight in his eyes.
Lorelei hadn’t been able to decide if she wanted a spring or fall wedding. She’d also been too busy planning the festival to wrap her brain around planning their nuptials. It wasn’t as if it mattered. He’d put a ring on her finger and agreed to keep her forever. To Lorelei, that was as good as any vows spoken in front of a preacher.
“One event at a time,” she said, leaning forward for a kiss to appease her fiancé. “I’ll make up my mind by Christmas. I promise.”
Spencer took the offered kiss as Snow said, “Whatever you do, don’t go to Vegas. That was not a good idea.”
Lorelei and Spencer locked eyes before Lorelei asked, “Snow, are you married?”
“What?” she said, jerking her focus from the cookies to the cookie maker. “Why would you ask that?”
“Um . . .” Lorelei hedged. “You just said going to Vegas wasn’t a good idea. As if you knew from personal experience.”
Snow’s cheeks grew pink as she shifted from one foot to the other. “No, I mean that’s what people say. You run off to Vegas and the next thing you know you’re at some little chapel taking vows and the next morning you wonder what the hell you were thinking.” Waving her hand around as if she were being flip and nothing more, she added, “That’s what I hear, anyway.”