container and collected some of her mother’s shopping bags, dropping them inside. Her mother unwound more bags from her other arm and continued adding to the container until it was full. She was still clutching two more bags.
“Whew, that’s a relief,” Madelaine said, rubbing her forearm with her free hand.
Ginny secured the top on the container, shaking her head. “What in the world did you buy? You live here year-round with everyone selling their wares. You don’t have to buy everything at one time.”
“Carol’s aunt was here—the one I told you about, remember?”
“The seamstress?”
“That’s the one. When we chatted at Carol and Glenn’s anniversary party, I mentioned wanting new tablecloths and such for the café but not being able to find what I was looking for premade. I was going to call her to get some pricing, but one thing led to another, and well, you know how it is.”
Ginny swung the dolly around behind her and they started walking down Main Street toward the café. “You forgot.”
“Exactly.”
“So what’s with all the packages?”
“The aunt had an idea for the café based on what I’d described and made up some tablecloths and napkins, figuring if I wasn’t interested, she’d sell them at her shop in New Orleans.”
Madelaine dug in one of her bags and pulled out a napkin fashioned from patches of bright patterned materials in turquoise, pink, green and yellow. She handed the napkin to Ginny. “How perfect is that?”
Ginny looked down at the splash of colorful fabrics and smiled. “It is perfect and totally you.” She handed the napkin back to Madelaine. “What about valances? That blue gingham with the sunflowers has been hanging there since I was a little girl.”
“She’s coming by tomorrow to measure the windows. I’m also thinking it’s time for a fresh coat of paint, maybe a sunny yellow to match that color in the napkins. What do you think?”
“I think it sounds like a lot of work…but nice.”
Madelaine waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll hire Saul Pritchard to do the painting. He finished up Carol’s bedroom last week, so I know he’s got the time. So I guess the almost-empty container means you had a good day.”
“It was an excellent day. I sold everything but ten pieces, and a couple of buyers for bigger shops bought pieces and took pictures and business cards.”
“Whoo! I’m telling you, one day you’re going to be famous and you’re going to buy me a nice beach house in the Bahamas, with one of those cute guys who bring you fancy drinks.”
“A cabana boy?” Ginny laughed. “If I get rich and famous, it’s a deal.”
“Carol said she saw a likely candidate at your booth today when she passed with her grandkids. From her description, I thought it might be that good-looking young man who was in the café this morning.”
Ginny nodded, struggling not to frown. “He bought a necklace.”
“That’s it?” The disappointment in Madelaine’s voice was clear.
“Yes, that’s it. What was he supposed to do?”
“Well, he said he had family that owned a store, but maybe he plans on taking the piece to them to see. And I thought…well…oh, never mind.”
“You thought since he was over ten and under sixty, I should jump him at the festival?”
“Of course not, but a nice lunch wouldn’t be out of line. Oh well, he said he was taking a bit of a vacation. Maybe you’ll see him again before the festival is over.”
Ginny stopped in front of the café and pulled her keys from her purse to unlock the front door, trying not to think about what Madelaine had said. She’d bet everything she owned that Paul Stanton was not on vacation. He had far too much intensity for a man who was supposed to be relaxing. Ginny was certain he was in Johnson’s Bayou for a reason, but she didn’t even want to know what it was. She just wanted him to leave her alone.
“You coming in?” Ginny asked.
“No. I’m pooped. I’m gonna take