Celebrate in Good Hope (Good Hope #22)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The atmosphere at Muddy Boots reminded Boone of a party. The small café was filled with laughter, conversation and good food.

When he and Roe arrived, they were directed to the back room to wash their hands and grab aprons.

“How does this work?” Boone asked Ami, who appeared to be coordinating the activity.

“Merry Christmas, Boone and Roe.” Ami’s smile widened to include both of them. “Thank you so much for volunteering. Roe, I have you on potatoes, and Boone, you’re on ham duty.” As if sensing their continued confusion, Ami pointed. “It’s like a buffet line, except the volunteers do all the dispensing. The line starts there, and as the diners move to each station, the volunteer puts that particular selection on their plate.”

Boone watched the process for several seconds. “So, the volunteer next to me asks if they want turkey, and when they step to me, I ask if they want a slice of ham. What if they want both?”

“They can have a slice of each, but only one.” Ami looked almost apologetic. “We have to limit the portions to ensure we have enough for everyone. ”

Roe, who’d been studying the line, lifted her gaze to Ami. “It’s all free?”

“It is,” Ami confirmed. “It’s our way of giving back to the community that has given so much to our family.”

Roe nodded as she glanced around the dining area. “The tables have been moved around and pushed together.”

“We did that to allow more people to be seated at once, and because many who come would otherwise be eating alone. This allows them to see that they aren’t alone and that we are all family in Good Hope.”

“I love that.”

“It’s the way it is here.” Hearing her name, Ami turned. Lifting a hand, she called out, “I’ll be right there.”

When her attention returned to him and Roe, Boone knew it was time to get to work.

“C’mon, Roe.” Boone slung an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get to it.”

As the end of their shift neared, Roe found herself glad she’d left her pretty heels at home. Standing in place for two hours was worse than running from table to table, taking orders.

Though she preferred taking orders and tending to the needs of those in her section, she loved this, too. She had interacted with many people and had seen some familiar faces and others she’d never seen before.

Even though working a buffet line could have seemed boring or mechanical, Roe focused on making the guests feel welcome. She loved being part of a team. All the volunteers enthusiastically embraced their duties, including Gladys, who stood by the dessert table, encouraging diners to grab a piece of pie or a slice of cake.

Since many didn’t get their dessert until they were through with the main part of their meal, Gladys and her friends Katherine and Ruby had ample time to chat and mingle.

Several times during the shift, Roe caught Gladys’s eyes on her and Boone, whom, it seemed, everyone wanted to speak with.

During a slow time, when Clay Chapin stood talking with Boone about football, Roe left the line to grab another large spoon after hers ended up on the floor.

“I’ll be right back,” she mouthed to Boone, who only smiled.

By the time she returned, Clay was already seated with his wife and kids, chatting up several older people Roe didn’t recognize.

“You and Clay seemed to be having quite the discussion,” Roe said, dipping the new serving spoon into the whipped potatoes.

Boone smiled. “Clay loves football. He’s a huge Grizzlies fan.”

“I bet you get that a lot.”

Boone cocked his head.

“Football fans wanting your autograph or to talk about past games.”

“Like I said before, more often, people ask why the coach called a certain play rather than another.” Boone chuckled. “Or, my personal favorite, asking why we lost when we should have won and giving their thoughts on what we could have done differently.”

Though Boone kept his tone light, Roe heard the irritation.

“Is that what Clay was doing?”

Surprise flickered across Boone’s face. He shook his head. “Naw, he just wanted to speak with me about some other stuff.”

“Well, volunteers, your time is up,” Ami said. “Thank you so much for stepping up to help. We couldn’t have done this without you.” Her warm smile made Roe feel like she had done something special. “I would encourage you to grab something to eat and perhaps share a table with someone you don’t know. In Good Hope, we say that strangers are simply friends we haven’t met yet. ”

When they stopped in the back room to drop off their aprons, Boone turned to her. “Do you want to stay and eat?”

“Sure.” She smiled. “I’d love to meet some new friends.”

Instead of strangers, they ended up sitting next to Gladys, Katherine and Ruby, whose shifts at the dessert table had ended at the same time.

For a brief moment, Roe considered asking Gladys about references and recommendations and then reminded herself that today was Christmas. She could speak with Gladys on the twenty-seventh.

“Mr. Boone, did Roe tell you how marvelously she’s doing as our stage director?”

Using Boone’s name when Gladys was gazing at him was unnecessary. It wasn’t as if there could be any misunderstanding about who the question was meant for.

Boone smiled.

Roe wasn’t sure if it was because of the Mr. that Gladys had placed before his name or the ridiculousness of the question.

He stabbed the piece of ham he’d just cut. “Did you forget I was there all week, handling the sound duties?”

A sly smile lifted Gladys’s red lips. “I didn’t forget. I just wondered if you noticed Roe’s efforts.”

“Of course I noticed.” Boone’s expression remained serious.

“How do you like living together?” Ruby’s blue eyes danced as she settled her gaze on Roe.

“We, ah, the cabin is lovely.” Roe kept it simple. “There’s so much room.”

“I don’t believe that’s what Ruby asked you.” Katherine, whom Roe had learned was a former accountant, glanced from Roe to Boone, then back to Roe.

“She tolerates me,” Boone said with a grin.

“I love living there with you. You know that.” The words popped out of Roe’s mouth before she’d given them any thought.

Perhaps if they’d sounded teasing, the way his response had, instead of heartfelt and honest, it might not have caused such a reaction.

Gladys’s smile broadened. She and her friends exchanged glances.

“And we love hearing that,” Ruby began before a look from Gladys silenced her.

“Ruby meant to say that we love knowing you’ve been happy during your time in Good Hope.”

Gladys’s clarification lifted the tension off Roe’s shoulders. She certainly didn’t want to give them the wrong impression—or rather, she didn’t want everyone to know just how much she would miss Boone.

“It’s been wonderful.” Roe chose her words more carefully this time. “I can’t believe that the performance and party are almost here. I will miss the crew, as well as you and Fin. You’ve been so great to work with.”

“I imagine not everyplace you’ve worked feels the same.” Though Katherine didn’t frame it as a question, Roe heard it.

“You’re right on that score.” Roe tapped a finger against her lips, recalling her challenges. “Dealing with creative differences and unprofessional behavior wasn’t always easy or as quick a fix as I’d have liked, but I enjoyed being in a position to facilitate change.”

Gladys nodded, her eyes sharp and assessing. “I’d love to know what you did.”

“Regular meetings, team-building activities and a clear delineation of roles and responsibilities. On Spotlight , for the most part, everyone has worked together for the betterment of the show.” Roe resisted the urge to sigh. “I can only hope that wherever I end up is somewhere just as wonderful.”

She might have said more, would have said more, in fact, was ready to ask Gladys if she had any recommendations, but then Boone spoke .

“Tell me, what do you ladies have planned for the rest of the day?”

The discussion took off like a racehorse exiting the starting gate. Roe couldn’t have reined it in even if she had tried.

Besides, Boone had been right to change the subject. Today was Christmas. Enjoying time with family and friends should be the focus, not her search for the perfect position.

The next morning, by the time Roe rose to prepare for the day, Boone had already left for the gym. She smiled, thinking of the past two days. She couldn’t recall having a nicer Christmas. Some of it, she knew, was being in Good Hope and doing work she loved.

A lot of it was Boone. It was as if she’d been living in gray scale, and the world was now steeped in full, vibrant color.

She started at the knock on the door. Roe had to admit that the first day of driving up and finding someone unexpected at the house had made her more careful. When she was home, which was how she now thought of the cabin, she kept the doors locked.

By the time the second knock sounded, Roe had pulled up the Ring app on her phone. The postal carrier stood on the other side of the door, shifting from one foot to the other.

Roe pulled it open. “Hi, what can I do for you?”

“Good morning.” The woman, with a broad face and red cheeks, glanced down at the package in her hands. “I have a package for Rosalie Carson.”

“I’m Rosalie Carson.”

“I have Krew and Cassie Slattery at this address.” The mail carrier’s gaze never wavered.

“They own the home. I’m staying here through February fourteenth. Jason Boone is also here. ”

“This package requires a signature.” The mail carrier held out a form on top of the box.

Once Roe scribbled her name, the package was hers. “Thanks.”

Closing the door, Roe gave the box a little shake. The gift had traveled all the way from Germany. In the past few years, her parents had simply sent money.

She’d already noticed the funds in her bank account, and she’d thanked them in a private text on Christmas Eve. They hadn’t mentioned mailing a gift.

Roe set the package on the kitchen table and, after pouring herself a cup of coffee, sat down to open it.

As a child, she’d loved to guess what was inside a present just before she opened it. Most of the time, her guesses were spot-on.

Today, she didn’t have a clue. Roe couldn’t summon up even a single possibility.

Well, she would find out once she got it open.

In less than a minute, she stared at the diary she had kept when she was thirteen. The family had moved that year, for what had felt like the zillionth time. Friends she’d left behind hadn’t stayed in touch, and she’d been having trouble making new ones.

That was the year she’d first tried theater—even there, she’d struggled to fit in.

Roe cringed, recalling only a few of the harsh words she’d written in this red leather-bound journal about her father and his choice of careers.

Many years ago, she and her mother had searched high and low for the journal but had never found it. Roe had prayed it had gotten tossed in the garbage. In her mind, that would be better than someone reading it and snickering.

Her mother had enclosed a letter with the diary.

Roe unfolded the sheet of vellum with fingers that trembled. Please, please, don’t have read it, she prayed.

Dearest Roe ,

I found this journal at the bottom of a box of old tax documents and receipts. I’m embarrassed to admit that this box has come with us for numerous moves without ever being opened.

Most of what was inside could be shredded, but when I came to this journal, I knew exactly what it was and who it belonged to.

I remember how frantically we searched for it and then had to conclude it was lost.

I didn’t look inside. I didn’t need to know that this diary was yours and that these were your thoughts and feelings.

All the moves were difficult for you. I know that, and I’m sorry for it. Please know I’m so proud of you and the woman you’ve become.

Right now, you’re once again in transition. I hope this next move is precisely what you’ve been searching for.

All my love,

Mom

A lump rose in Roe’s throat as she emailed her mother, letting her know the diary had arrived safely and how much she appreciated getting it.

Though Roe would have loved nothing more than to sit in front of a roaring fire with a cup of steaming coffee and read through this record of her thirteenth year, she had to get to the playhouse.

Today, they would run through the show, looking for areas needing last-second tweaks.

Tomorrow would be the dress rehearsal.

A shiver of excitement traveled up Roe’s spine. Seeing everything come together was her favorite part.

The soft ding indicating an email had arrived had Roe picking up her phone, expecting it to be her mother’s response.

But the email wasn’t from her mom. It was from Wonder Theatre in San Antonio. They were among the first places she’d contacted when her position in the Twin Cities had been eliminated. The parent of one of the child actors she’d worked with in Minneapolis had once lived in San Antonio and still had connections there.

When she’d discovered Wonder would have a position open for a theater director beginning March first, Roe had sent in her résumé. The parent had also promised to contact her friend on the board and put in a good word for her.

She’d had a Zoom interview with the board shortly before leaving Minnesota. Roe thought it had gone well, but when she’d heard nothing, she’d assumed they’d hired someone else.

With the money they were offering and the opportunities for continuous learning and development, this position would appeal to anyone in the industry.

Roe quickly read the letter.

It proposed a Zoom meeting with her on January third to discuss terms. Once they came to an agreement, the job would be hers.

Roe waited for the rush of excitement, but it didn’t come.

She was in shock, she told herself. The joy would come once she had time to digest that this fabulous job was being offered to her on a silver platter.

Later.

Right now, she had a performance to direct.