Worship And Other Love Rituals

Chapter 15

For the great fest, our first task was recruiting vendors for the various booths and activities. I volunteered to share news of the event at Michael's Muffins & More, where I offered part-time help to Michael. He readily agreed to host a bake sale booth, knowing it would drum up business.

My feet were already throbbing as I made my way over to the bakery that morning. I had barely slept the night before, too anxious about running the bake sale booth for the big festivities. What if we didn't sell enough goods? What if I messed something up in front of the whole town? The worries churned in my stomach like an angry beehive.

When I arrived at the shop, Michael was already bustling about as usually, mixing batters and rolling out dough like a one-man baking orchestra. "Good timing!" he called out. "I could use an extra pair of hands labeling these treats."

There in a cozy patch of sunlight sat an enormous, fluffy cat. Her fur was a mix of blacks and greys with white patches around her mouth, like a tiny beard.

The cat opened one eye lazily to look at me over before closing it again with a yawn. "This is Mrs. Tibbles," said Michael fondly. "She pretty much runs the place."

I knelt down cautiously, holding out my hand for the cat to sniff. After a moment, Mrs. Tibbles deigned to butt her head against my's fingers, purring loudly. "Well aren't you a sweet old thing," I cooed, scratching under her chin.

Michael beamed. "I think she likes you! You'll have to visit more often so you two can keep each other company while I'm baking." I smiled, already feeling at home.

Michael pulled up a stool for me and launched into the details for the day while I got to work slathering blue frosting onto a stack of yellow cupcakes. "We'll need about three dozen each of cookies, brownies, and scones for the bake sale," he instructed. "Then ...another two trays of assorted pastries, tarts, and Danishes. We want plenty of options to attract that small-town dollar!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him my interests lay more in scaring small children than attracting small-town dollars, but baking was baking, so I got to work like the good small business volunteer I was. At least the repetitive motions were somewhat meditative and took my mind off things from the past week.

The bell above the door jingled and I looked up to see Penny strolling in, apron already tied. "Heard you could use backup," she smiled warmly. My shoulders eased knowing she'd be there.

"You're an angel!" I told her as Michael whooped in delight.

I LOVE THIS LADY SO MUCH

That evening, Harmony Honeys was buzzing with festival updates. Emily had already posted ten pictures from that morning of her helping decorate even though we all know she mostly just flitted around getting in the way and commenting on how pretty the banners looked. Olivia was arguing font choices for the face painting signups, like the decision actually mattered when it was just temporary paint on kids' cheeks. And Diane, surprise surprise, was complaining that the bake sale was beneath her station and she wished she was at an adult-only wine and cheese event instead. Ugh, someone send that bitter old crone a fruitcake.

It was then that Maya swooped in with her signature brand of over-the-top positivity, exclaiming that we all had festival fever and it was going to be the best one yet! Which we all knew was code for 'I have everything micromanaged down to the vitamin in the potato salad so just try to appreciate my controlling chaos, peons!'

But you had to hand it to her - that woman could organize the demographics out of a riot if needed.

Sarah contributed long, poorly edited screeds complaining of being too busy with PTAs and charity balls to help. I rolled my eyes, sensing passive aggression in her claims of superior responsibilities.