No booths meant no booth fees—and no Back-to-School Packs.
Adam counted at least seven women heading for the parking lot, seven registration fees he’d have to reimburse—and seven families who might not participate in the day’s events. Right then, he knew he couldn’t charm his way out of this.
Time to lead then.
“Hang on,” he said, picking up the Beat the Heat official binder off the table. He held it high in the air so everyone could lock their beady eyes on it. “Now, these guys here volunteered—on their own time, I’d like to add—to help make this community event a hit. For everyone. Not just a few booths.”
He paused to eye the most vocal protestors in the crowd and locked on until they knew he was good and done. “Being that this is their first year not only planning Beat the Heat but attending it, I was expecting a bit more help from you ladies. More of that St. Helena neighborliness you’re all so fond of bragging about.”
People stopped walking and a few of them even had the decency to look ashamed.
“In the past, we have always allocated spaces based on history with the event. People get the chance to register for the same booth every year, and only when someone forfeits their space does it go to someone else. Correct?”
That got a few heads to nod.
Adam clapped his hands. “Great. Then I need you to form a single-file line in order of your booth number from last year. Ida will take the front spot, since she and her bananas have been booth one since before I was born. And if someone is not present, or their form is not already on file stating they wanted to renew their spot, then it will go to the next person in line. Understood?”
There were a few grumbles, but people started lining up.
“What about my mailboxes?” Nora asked. “Do I get stuck in no-man’s land because she’s been hogging the same spot for all these years? I’ve lived here just as long as she has, but only started selling my wares after God spoke to me in the form of a naked statue of a no-good two-timer. I helped lop off his pecker, then got busy building my business. Should I be penalized for that?”
“You’re not being penalized for anything,” Peggy said. “But Ida here has put her heart and soul into making those dipped bananas the Beat the Heat town tradition. It wouldn’t be right to take that from her either.”
“That’s why it’s up to Ida,” Adam said, looking Ida right in the eye. “If she wants to give up her booth or switch spaces, that’s up to her. That’s how the rules have been for years, so as the current tenant of booth one, it’s her call.”
“I wouldn’t mind sharing,” a sweet-as-sin voice said from the back. Adam watched as Harper made her way forward. She had on a flowy sundress, sexy heels, and that smile. “I’m not street facing, but the Fashion Flower’s face-painting booth will be stationed right next to the stage, which is a great location. Most of my kids’ moms do yoga at Get Bent, so our customers would cross over.”
“Thank you,” the owner of Get Bent said. “That would be great. I always get lost in the back, and people don’t find their way to my fruit smoothies until dark, and then who wants a cold treat?”
“That would take all the fun out of the event,” Harper said, releasing that smile on Ida. “Don’t you think?”
All eyes went to Ida, who was glaring back at Harper. Peggy had moved in too and was practically hovering over the other woman, giving her a reprimanding eye.
Not Harper. She didn’t crowd, didn’t badger, didn’t even raise her voice. But she also didn’t give the older woman an out. Just flashed some of that warm welcome and understanding she was so good at and waited, as if confident that with time and support Ida would reach deep and find her best behavior.
Ida took in a deep breath and began shaking her head vigorously, several times in fact, before letting out a disgruntled huff. “Fine.” She turned to Nora. “If you’d like, you can set your mailboxes up in the grass space of my tent. I never use that area.”
“I’m not asking for a handout,” Nora said.
“I’m not offering one. You want to share the booth, you pay for it. Ow!” Ida jerked her head toward Peggy and rubbed her foot. Peggy just smiled on.
Nora crossed her arms, then made a big show of playing it cool. “Deal. But if I’m paying half the rental fee, then I want all the space for half the time. I’ll take the second day.”
“But Sunday is the bigge—” Ida whipped her head around. “That’s my bunion !”
“And this is a community affair,” Peggy reminded everyone. “And as the tenant of booth nine, I would love to share my space too. For both days.”