Well Played (Well Met #2)(30)

“Oh, absolutely. But soon I’m going to have to break it to her that she won’t be in Simon’s class next year.”

“She won’t?” Simon taught advanced placement English to juniors and seniors. “I thought her grades were good.”

“They’re great. She’s a smart kid. Like her mom.”

“And her aunt.” I nudged her with my shoulder, and Emily smiled in thanks for the compliment.

“But once Simon and I get married this summer, he’ll be family. And he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s favoring her for any reason.”

“Ahhhhh.” I blew out the word as a sigh. “Well, that sucks.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I just need to make her see that there’s an upside to him being family. I foresee a lot of private tutoring sessions at the dining room table.”

I considered that. “Well, if she really has a crush, then she’ll like that more.”

“I can only hope so. She’s been talking about Simon’s college prep English class since, oh, I don’t know, the first day I met Simon. Two years ago.”

“And thought he was a prick.” If Emily thought I was ever going to let her live that down, she was wrong.

She nodded, a rueful smile twisting her face. “Well, he was kind of a prick.”

“Uh-huh.” I handed forms to some more kids who walked through the door, offered one to a mother who put up defensive hands before shaking her head and sitting down in the back of the auditorium. “Good turnout this year.” I still remembered the days when kids were strong-armed into participating; Simon’s big brother had been in charge back then, and he’d been particularly good at begging. These days we had more high school kids volunteering than we could use; we had actually started turning some of them away the past couple years. Amazing. Sean would have been proud. I made a mental note to mention that to Simon later.

Emily scanned the crowd of kids. “Caitlin wants to sing this year, so she’s been practicing.” She threw me a sideways glance. “Didn’t you used to sing? Before your tavern wench days?”

“Sure did. Lots of summers of madrigals.” I smiled at the memory. I’d been active in glee club in high school, so it had been a no-brainer for me to go in that direction. I’d spent my first summers at Faire singing in five-part harmony with four other girls. The Gilded Lilies, we were called, all five of us dressed in identical yellow dresses, like some kind of Renaissance-themed Von Trapp kids. As the older girls aged out and stopped doing Faire, younger girls took their place. I switched over to being a wench sometime during college, and by then the original four girls I’d sung with had all moved away. But the Lilies lived on. The girls seemed younger every year, but maybe that was just me getting older. The dresses, however, were still yellow and weren’t flattering on anyone.

I eyed Caitlin. She’d look good in yellow. “She should go for it.” This would be her third year doing Faire, and she was a rising senior. She wouldn’t have to worry about being turned away. And after all, at this point she was also family. Simon might not want to show favoritism in his classes, but he had no such scruples when it came to Faire.

All in all, sign-ups went extremely well. Plenty of kids, and I was even able to persuade a few new parents to take part. We had a cast in place, and once school let out in June, rehearsals would begin in earnest. Before long, we’d be spending our Saturdays at the high school for the yearly rehearsals for life as a Faire volunteer. For the returning cast members, these Saturdays were mostly a refresher, but for the newbies they would be a crash course in Elizabethan history.

Of course, I was also excited about Faire for a different reason. Text messages with Dex were practically a nightly occurrence these days, and the closer we got to the summer, the more inadequate they became. There’d been more than one night that I’d almost hit that Call button on my phone, desperate to hear his voice. Something always kept me from doing it, but knowing that Faire was on the horizon, and that I’d be seeing him soon, kept me anticipating his return like a kid waiting for Santa Claus. But with more kissing.

Meanwhile, the planning for Simon and Emily’s wedding had started to ramp up as well. There was lots going on, and more and more often we met a couple evenings a week at April’s house, which became command central for both wedding planning and Faire organization. April had lodged a protest at first, saying that she had nothing to do with Faire, but it was halfhearted and we kept showing up anyway. She must not have minded that much, because somehow there was always a family-style dinner waiting for us on those nights: a huge tray of baked ziti and salad or a shepherd’s pie. Caitlin joined us some nights around her mother’s big dining room table, usually engrossed in homework since finals were coming up for her, but also giving us a unique, teenage perspective on high school gossip, especially when it concerned kids who were participating in Faire. I kept a close eye on her, especially when she asked Simon for help with her homework, but I didn’t detect any real signs of a crush. Her interest in her future uncle seemed to be purely academically motivated, which had to be a relief to Emily.

One night, Caitlin looked up at me from across the dining room table. “Emily said you used to sing too, right?”

“Sure did.” I shot her a grin as I slipped my phone into my bag. It was too early in the evening for Dex to be getting in touch anyway. “Let me know if you want any help rehearsing. It’s been years since I was a Lily, but those songs are still stuck in my head.”