The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,53

always pushing boundaries. How was she still a virgin? “What have you been waiting for?”

“The right person, I guess.” She flung another strand of seaweed toward the hill behind them. “So...”

“So what?” Taylor asked, leery of her change in tone.

“Do you want to keep the baby?”

Taylor wished she knew. “Do you think I should give it up?”

“Only you can answer that question.” With a sigh, Sierra dropped the stick, stood and held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s get dressed so we can go.”

“Home?”

“To get a pregnancy test. From what you’ve said, it sounds like you haven’t actually taken one.”

“I haven’t.”

“Well, there’s no need to go through this—making the decisions that will need to be made—until we know for sure.”

Taylor accepted her hand. “You hate me now, don’t you.”

“Hate you?” Sierra made a sound that suggested Taylor didn’t know anything. “I’m pretty sure what I feel is as far as you can get from that.”

12

Uncle Chris had gotten permission from his pastor to hold a planning meeting at the local Baptist church, so Autumn had created flyers that she and Caden—Taylor was with her friend—handed out to local businesses all morning in an attempt to alert as many people as possible to both the fundraiser and the meeting this afternoon. She also stopped in to talk to John Karpinski at the newspaper to ask him to help spread the word. He said he and Monica would be sure to run a notice, but the next issue wouldn’t come out for four days. He put both the meeting and the fundraiser on the paper’s website right away, but Autumn doubted many people would see it, at least in time to come to the meeting. So her mother called the president of the Chamber of Commerce and asked her to email all the members, and Laurie contacted the other churches in the area and asked them to notify their parishioners.

At a quarter to four on Saturday afternoon, when she and Laurie left Mary to mind the store and headed over to the Baptist Church at Seabreeze and Main, she could only hope they’d find enough support there. Her mother, aunt and uncle—none of whom had ever done anything like this before—were going to need more help than what she could offer them.

“Thank God,” she said to Laurie when she pulled into the parking lot and found it so full she had trouble locating a space.

Although Autumn had expected to work mostly behind the scenes and let Laurie take the lead—after all, it was Uncle Chris who’d started this whole thing—as soon as Laurie made sure the microphone was working, she announced that Autumn would be in charge and went to sit in the front row with her husband, who was already there.

Shoot, Autumn thought as she felt the responsibility settle on her shoulders. While it was both hopeful and comforting that there were so many people in attendance—it showed how quickly the citizens of Sable Beach could come together when necessary—she wasn’t ready to chair the whole thing, especially because she didn’t have very long to pull off such a big undertaking.

As soon as she opened her mouth to protest, however, she closed it again. What the heck. It would be easier to do the talking than to try to prompt Aunt Laurie. So she took a deep breath, got up and walked to the pulpit.

As she called the room to order and went over the details of what she intended to do, she began to grow more comfortable and more confident. She recognized many of the faces she saw. These were people she’d grown up with, and they’d come to help. Together they could certainly pull off a fabulous fundraiser for the Vanderbilts.

Michele Salls, who ran the PTA for the local elementary school, was one of the first to approach after Autumn finished her speech. Michele said she and Mrs. Vanderbilt were in the same church choir and that she wanted to do all she could, so she volunteered to handle ticket sales and offered up her husband, who was waiting politely behind her, as auctioneer.

“But I don’t know how to talk that fast!” he said, perking up as soon as he heard his name.

“Then talk slow,” she told him. “It doesn’t matter—as long as you get people to raise their paddles.”

His eyes widened. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said confidently.

His jaw was slack when he turned to Autumn. “I’ve never done anything like