After an eye roll, probably her fiftieth of the evening, Zoe said, “Okay, fine. But can I bring a friend?”
“That depends. This is an all-girl crew,” Monica reminded her.
“Not Ryan. Zinnia Applegate. She’s in my English class.”
“Sure, but . . . Zinnia?”
“I know, right?” Another eye roll. “Her parents are crazy too. I’m going to go look at that purple stuff over there,” Zoe said, pointing to an entire shelf of violet-hued fabrics. “Purple is good for pirates.”
Once Zoe was out of earshot, I said, “Five minutes ago she hated your guts, now you’re the leader of the All-Girl Pirate Band.”
“Don’t be too impressed,” Monica said. “In another five minutes she’ll probably hate me again. But at least she’s speaking to me. If I ever get Zoe and Alex speaking to me at the same time, then you can be impressed.”
“Ha! Well, I guess we better start looking for swooshy skirt fabric,” I said, trying not to think too hard about the fact that I now needed to make two warrior pirate outfits instead of one and come up with something for Desmond as well—maybe just a hat and eye patch?
But pirate costumes would definitely be more fun to make than a Miss Muffet outfit, and if it meant Zoe and Monica might start getting along better, then it was more than worth the effort. I steered my cart toward a promising-looking aisle of taffeta. Monica came along.
“I was surprised Nan didn’t come tonight. Is she okay?”
“I talked to her a couple of days ago,” Monica said. “She’s fine. Just has a lot going on, trying to get the garden in shape for the ball. And she said she’s all set for costumes. They’re going as the cast of The Wizard of Oz. Nan will be Dorothy, Malcolm will be the Tin Man, Blixen will be the Cowardly Lion, Stuart will be the Scarecrow, and Nelson will be Toto.”
“What about Lovey?”
“Adopted by a nice family who lives in the country and already has one bulldog. What about that?” Monica said, pointing at a bolt of purple, green, and gold plaid taffeta.
I pulled it off the shelf and held it up to Monica’s face. “That’s actually kind of perfect. I’ll make your skirt from this and Zoe’s with whatever fabulous purple thing she finds. I think we’re going to need petticoats too. Just plain cotton, but we’ll need lace to trim the hem.” I plunked the plaid bolt into the cart.
“The Wizard of Oz costumes were Malcolm’s idea,” Monica reported as we headed toward the ribbon and trim section of the store. “He’s so much fun and he couldn’t be more perfect for Nan—the whole ‘must love dogs’ thing to begin with. He’s as excited about raising money for the rescue as Nan is. Besides helping with the gardening, Malcolm booked the band, figured out the lighting and sound . . . such a good guy. And the brogue,” she said, clapping her hand to her chest. “Is there anything sexier than a man with an accent?”
“They do make a great couple,” I agreed.
“But if I were Nan, I think I’d rather he come to the ball as a Highland warrior. There’s just something about a man in a kilt.”
“Speaking of men in costume,” I said, examining some eyelet lace that was on sale. “How is Bob going to feel about joining the All-Girl Pirate Band?”
“Shoot. I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe he can be our hostage. Actually,” she said, raising and lowering her eyebrows, “he might like that.”
“Okay . . . yeah. Too much information. Do the kids know about you two yet?”
Monica shook her head. I shot her a look and put the eyelet lace back onto the shelf, rejecting it in favor of a two-tiered white cotton lace that somehow seemed more pirate period to me.
“I’m not avoiding the subject,” Monica said. “Honestly. I’ve just been so crazy busy. When I get home at night, I’m so tired I fall into bed. Don’t tell Nan I said so, but I’ll be glad when the ball is over. I’ve just got too much on my plate.”
She did, it was true. So did I. So did Nan. But Monica looked so tired.
If Monica hadn’t been Monica—i.e., the biggest hypochondriac in Portland and therefore prone to panic over all things medical—I might have suggested she go in for a checkup. But she’d been in the ER not that long ago with the scary rash that turned out to be paprika. If there was something wrong, surely they’d have caught it then. And it wasn’t like she didn’t have cause for fatigue.
“I get it,” I said. “When all this is over, we all ought to go away for a few days—rent a condo at the beach or something.”
“Wouldn’t that be great?” Monica sighed. “My cousin Lisa has a big beach house in Lincoln City. She’s offered to let me use it a bunch of times, but I’ve never taken her up on it.
“Maybe I should,” she mused. “I could just close the restaurant for a week in late August. It’d cost me some money, but I really need a break, so does the staff—Ben is such a pain right now.” Monica looked at me. “What do you think? Could August work for you? Or will you be too slammed?”
“I might not be able to take the whole week, but maybe a couple of days. It kind of depends on how things work out with my new employee.” I stopped, thought about what I’d just said, and laughed. “Boy, those are two words I never thought I’d hear coming out of my mouth.”
“Hey,” Monica said, correctly reading the undertone of anxiety in my laughter, “every entrepreneur feels like that when they’re starting out. You’re going to be good at this,
