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Hadn’t he just thought about talking to Andy about staying in town longer? What better opportunity to be a positive influence to the youth group than working side by side with them on a common goal—and if that same goal brought him closer to Gracie…Besides, maybe if he stuck around, he could dissuade Gracie from naming the wing after his father.
Carter smiled. “I’d be happy to. That is, if Andy doesn’t mind having a roommate for a while longer.”
“No way, man, that’d be awesome. It’s a plan.” Andy slapped both hands on the table. “Now we just need a sign-up sheet.”
“A plan,” Gracie echoed as she stood. “Right.”
Carter ignored the dismay dripping from her voice. It stung a little now, but after she spent more time around the new Carter, she’d warm up to the idea—and hopefully to him.
Chapter Six
“It’s been almost a week since the band cancelled.” Gracie fought the urge to bang her forehead against the Royal Blend Café’s wooden table. Instead, she propped her chin on her hand and rubbed her pulsing temples. “We can’t have a gala without music. We don’t want awkward silences.”
She thought gaining the support of the youth group and Andy would make her less stressed, maybe provide enough relief to focus on the positive and temporarily forget the fact that she had no band or even the hope of one. But her wishful thinking was about as much help as her penguins at cleaning time—zero.
“Are you sure you called everyone?” Lori pinched off a piece of apple-walnut bread from the plate between them. “Surely someone is available in this city.”
“They’re not. Trust me.” What was she going to do? She gazed out the side window overlooking a cozy little courtyard and fought a wave of jealousy. Patrons sipped coffee and shared pastries, talking over tabletops and buttoning their sweaters as a gust of wind threatened the napkins under their treats. Happy people, full of cappuccino and chocolate, people without the weight of an entire penguin colony on their shoulders—or the burden of an unwanted blast from the past with a certain ex-best friend.
She shifted her gaze back to Lori. “I called everyone listed in the phone book and the online directory. I even started to call the local school’s marching band.” She stared at the moist bread Lori enjoyed, wishing she had an appetite. Anxiety twisted her stomach in a knot that had yet to unravel. “Apparently December is a busy month if you know how to sing or play an instrument.”
“I took harmonica lessons once.” Lori popped a piece of bread in her mouth. “But I couldn’t figure it out. Kept spitting.”
Her headache intensified. “Are you kidding me? I’m having a crisis, and you’re strolling down Awkward Memory Avenue.”
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