He Priced Me At A Penny So I Married Another Chapter 37
The following autumn, the organizer at Fairmount Park sent me an invitation.
The market wanted to set up a free repair table by the entrance and asked if the Sewing Room would like to participate.
Attached to the email was a new set of event rules.
*No personal photo may be displayed as merchandise.*
*Any “joke” involving humiliation or coercion will be stopped immediately.*
I printed the email and put it in front of Carol.
Her first reaction after reading it was still to shake her head.
“Boston has markets, too. Why do you have to go back there?”
“Because they’re willing to change.”
I pointed to the last line.
“And because they’re covering travel costs. Weren’t you just complaining that all the Sewing Room’s money goes to backing cloth?”
Carol shot me a look, but she still started counting through the sewing tins.
That week, Everett happened to be out of town on a trip.
He wanted to change his flight, but I stopped him.
“Carol and I can go.”
“The tables are heavy.”
“The organizers have people to move them. And if you came, you’d only pull the backing crooked.”
He didn’t insist. Before we left, he just tucked a portable iron into the luggage.
“Carol said she needed one last time.”
When we arrived at the park, the old display line by the entrance was still there.
No one’s photo hung from it.
One side held notices for lost pets. The other listed the day’s activities. The Sewing Room was written right in the middle.
The organizer came to meet us in person.
She pointed to the place where the poster had once hung.
“That board was replaced last year. The original was preserved as material, and after the agreement took effect, it was destroyed according to procedure.”