Your Perfect Year(17)

“So, how did it go?” Simon asked as Hannah took a seat in one of his Eames chairs and he poured the tea.

“Over a hundred children and their parents came!” she began excitedly. “We’re more or less fully booked until Christmas, and it means we’ll probably have to ditch our plan of only offering events in the afternoons and switch to mornings as well. The demand’s incredible—people were practically snatching the registration forms out of our hands!”

“That’s amazing!” Simon regarded her thoughtfully. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that.”

“And I expected you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Take a guess!”

“Silly woman!” he replied with a grin.

“And ‘have to admit’ sounds so negative, somehow,” she added.

“Huh?”

“I mean the fact that you have to admit you weren’t expecting it.”

“I’m really not following you now.”

“Forget it.” She flapped a hand dismissively and laughed again. “The children were thrilled with the balloon thing.”

Simon sighed with relief. “So you managed to inflate them all in time?”

“Of course not,” Hannah retorted. “I was much too late getting back to the shop. We’d just thrown the plates and stuff on the table and set up the drinks when people started showing up.”

“But—”

“It was a stroke of genius! We got the kids to join in blowing up the balloons. It was their absolute favorite part—they were lining up for a turn with the helium bottle! And the moment they discovered that the gas made their voices sound like Mickey Mouse, there was no stopping them.” She put on a silly voice and plucked at a nonexistent Adam’s apple. “Hello, I’m little Hannah!”

“So it wasn’t such a screwup, that I forgot all about it?” Simon asked, regarding her as though fearing the worst.

“On the contrary. Things couldn’t have been better.”

Now her boyfriend was grinning with her. “Which only goes to reinforce your favorite saying, that some good comes from everything.”

“Exactly, my darling.” She leaned forward and gave him a smacking kiss on his red nose. “And to cap it all, you weren’t standing around getting in our way and muddling things up. You could say it was a win-win situation.”

He feigned offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She kissed him again, this time directly on his pouting lips. “I’m just over the moon because everything went so perfectly. Lisa and I will have to start looking for a couple of assistants immediately. We can’t cope with the demand on our own.”

“Hold your horses,” Simon said. “How many confirmed reservations do you actually have?”

“Argh!” Hannah rolled her eyes and thumped Simon’s shoulders. “There you go again. Spare me the negative vibes; you’re polluting the very air I breathe!”

“I just think you shouldn’t let your euphoria run away with you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve always got you to put the brakes on.”

“Ha ha. Thanks!”

“Seriously, though.” She took his hands and squeezed them. “Don’t worry so much. You know that worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair—you expend a lot of energy but you never get anywhere.”

“You must have stolen that from somewhere.”

“True, but I can’t remember where, so it’s mine now.”

“I’m not worrying,” Simon said, stroking her fingers with his thumb. “But I just don’t want to see you disappointed. And that can happen if you always expect the best.”

“Again, that’s so typical of you. I’m telling you how wonderfully it all went, and there you are talking about disappointment.”

“Ah, well.” He raised his hands in apology. “I’m probably only jealous.”

“I agree,” Hannah said. “And I think we really need to turn things around.” She stood. “So let’s go!”

“Go? Where?”

“You can start with the shower. And then we’re going to Little Rascals.”

“Now?” He looked at her aghast.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “You’ve had plenty of time for convalescence, and I’ve told you how desperately we need help.”

“I’ve still got a cold, Hannah!”

“Doesn’t matter.” She grinned. “Ninety-nine percent of small children catch up to ten colds a year—no one will even notice. And we’ve got an endless supply of tissues.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

“Not at all. You need something to drag you out of your pit of self-pity.” She laughed. “Everyone has to have fun now and then. Stop looking at me like that and get yourself down to Little Rascals. You’ll see—it’ll do you good!”

“Um, what am I supposed to do when I get there?”

“You can begin by helping Lisa and me tidy up. And at two o’clock we need a clown.”





9

Jonathan