Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)(83)

Isabel smiled. “We heard what you said on the phone. We’re going with you to your office, and we’ll split the to-do list. Gideon can put out a request for help on the radio and you’ll have plenty of volunteers.”

“That’s what he said,” Felicia murmured, still unable to grasp what would happen. “You can’t help me. You’re all busy.”

Noelle shook her head. “Nothing that can’t wait. You need us. Later, you’ll return the favor. No big deal.”

“Let’s call Dellina,” Isabel said. “We all saw what she did with Charlie’s wedding. The girl has mad skills.”

“Thank you,” Felicia said fervently. “I’m so confused, I don’t know where to begin.”

“Admitting there’s a problem is always the first step,” Patience said, putting an arm around her. “Now, let’s go to your office and get this festival going.”

* * *

AT SIX, FELICIA made her way through the corridors of city hall. She’d phoned ahead and had an appointment with the mayor. She’d already printed out and signed her letter of resignation, which she couldn’t bring herself to think about. Every time she did, her stomach hurt and she thought she might throw up.

She loved Fool’s Gold more than any place she’d ever lived, and she’d let down the town. She’d messed up her job, and she was only in month two. She honestly wasn’t sure which was more surprising—her shock at forgetting or how devastated she felt for having forgotten. She hadn’t known she was capable of feeling so much guilt and remorse.

The mayor’s door stood open. There was no one sitting out front, so Felicia knocked on the door frame and stepped inside.

Mayor Marsha sat at a large desk. Behind her were a U.S.A. flag, a state flag and a city flag. Big windows framed a view of the town. Mayor Marsha looked up and smiled.

“There you are, Felicia. Have a seat.”

Felicia moved to the offered chair and sat down. She put the folder on the desk and pushed it toward the other woman.

“What is this?” the mayor asked, reaching for the folder.

“My letter of resignation. I’m sorry I didn’t get it to you sooner.”

Mayor Marsha picked up the folder, turned in her chair, bent over and started a machine. Felicia heard a whirring sound, followed by the grind of shredding paper.

“I don’t think so,” the mayor said as she straightened. “You’re not getting away from us so easily.”

Felicia shook her head. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I messed up. I forgot the festival. I got caught up in my personal life and I forgot. I have no excuse other than carelessness. I deserve to be fired.”

“I doubt that. Besides, the more important question is what the town deserves. I believe we should have the very best, and that, my dear, is you.”

For the second time in less than a week Felicia was fighting tears. “You don’t understand,” she said, blinking rapidly. “I was wrong.”

“You were human.”

“I wasn’t thinking about work.”

“Bravo.”

“Wh-what?”

“There has been too much work in your life. You copublished your first scientific article when you were eleven. Growing up in that university, you worked in the lab seven days a week. Did you ever take off even a day? Go on vacation?”

Felicia considered the question. “A professor and her family took me to see Mount Rushmore once.”

“How lovely. But a child needs more. We need you, Felicia. We need your intelligence and organizational skills, but we also need your heart. I’ve seen you with Carter. I’ve heard how much he cares about you. You’re building a family, and that’s something to be very proud of.”

Felicia twisted her hands together. “Please don’t be nice to me. I did a terrible thing.”

The mayor smiled. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to punish you. I learned many, many years ago that harsh words can never be unspoken, and they have consequences. Since then I have vowed to weigh what I say first. You need to learn to accept your flaws and forgive yourself. A wise man I know has told me the same thing, and I suspect he’s right.” She smiled. “Sensible words from a handsome man. What is the world coming to?”

Felicia had no idea what she was talking about. “The festival,” she began.

The mayor cut her off with a shake of her head. “Come here.”

Felicia rose and followed her to the window. They could see down Fourth Street to Frank Lane. Everywhere she looked people were hanging banners and putting out pots of flowers. As she watched, a truck pulled up. Two men started unloading dog water stations.

“In two days, the booths will be put up and the vendors will start to arrive. The dog costume parade will begin on time, as will all the demonstrations and lectures. Most of the festival was already put in place. You forgot a few window dressings.”

“But it’s my job and I screwed up.”

“I see. What have you learned from this experience?”

“That I’m not infallible. That I can be distracted, which I never knew. I learned I need to check my calendar before I take a day off and...” She paused, aware the mayor was staring at her expectantly. As if none of these answers had been correct.