Page 30 of Give Me a Shot

His cheeks reddened.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I wanted to say thanks. Um, for seeing me, seeing the empathy and that I’m not mean.” His cheeks reddened, and he looked away, out the windshield. “Wanted to give you something useful. It’s okay if you don’t like it.”

Jess snapped her hand closed, squeezing until the key ring bit into her palm.

“No,” she said. “I do. I like it…” She softened her grip and looked at it again. “I like it very, very much. Thank you.”

—

Jess hadn’t realized that she’d walked into the organizational meeting on a cloud. She and Mo had joined Lana, Theo, and Doug inside. Jess had greeted the others, taking a seat beside Mo, and accepted a stapled packet that Doug distributed withProject: Renaissance Faireon the cover. As Doug began, Jess followed along on autopilot, the keychain in her hand drawing her attention a few times. She glanced down at it, still surprised that Mo had actuallymadeit for her. She didn’t know if anyone had ever handcrafted something for her—especially to meet a need they’d noticed but that she hadn’t articulated.

“…covers the structure,” said Doug, drawing Jess out of her haze and back into the room. “Let’s look at some examples of Faire hierarchy and costumes on the next page.” He turned his page and the others followed suit. Jess tucked the keychain into her purse then did the same.

“One thing,” Theo said, a long, thin finger raised. “It’s garb.”

“I’m sorry?” Doug asked him, eyes narrowed.

“We don’t wear costumes. We wear garb,” Theo answered, smiling.

Jess barely heard them. The clothes were like a punch to her solar plexus. As her gaze bounced around the page from onewoman to another, each one’s face morphed into Cassie’s. The room began to dim and there was no air. Something bumped against her leg, knocking her knees together. She looked up at Mo beside her. He didn’t say anything, but she understood that he was concerned, that by bumping his knee against her, he was silently asking if she was all right. She shook her head a little without meaning to. Mo cleared his throat.

“Garb later,” he announced to the table. The others flinched at the command in his voice. He turned the page of his packet. Jess, Lana, and Theo did as well. Doug did not.

“Why? I thought it would be fun to start with costumes—er garb. Especially for you girls. You get to play dress-up!” He grinned at Jess and Lana. The comment and stupid look on his face slammed Jess back into herself, and she took a breath to snap at him, but Mo spoke first.

“No,” he said to Doug, much more loudly and deeply than anything else he’d said before.

“What?” Doug asked, cowering in his seat a little.

“Sexist,” Mo said. Jess was kind of glad he was looking at Doug because she wouldn’t have wanted that facial expression aimed at her. Not from such a big guy. She swallowed.

“Yes, Doug,” she said, looking at him. “That was a sexist thing to say.”

Lana was practically hiding her face in the printout.

Doug sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s, um…let’s talk tasks.” He took a deep breath and straightened in his chair. Jess squinted, wondering what was coming. He flipped forward a couple of pages in the packet and held it up, pointing to a photo that took up the top half of the page. The others found the correct page. “These are examples of hand-forged goods sold at Faires. Sold for a lot of money.” He pointed to two photos at the bottom of the page. “These are photos of some similar goods that Mo has made. Tell us yours aren’t better, Mo.”

Mo’s cheeks briefly flashed pink. But as he pulled his chin closer to his chest, scrutinizing the relevant page in his packet, Jess could tell that they were getting redder.

“Mo, he’s right,” Lana said. “Yours are much better. We could sell yours and make a good bit of money off them.” She looked up at him, smiling.

Jess wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw his chest rising and falling faster. She could almost taste his distress. She scanned the page.

“Are you all sure the ones at the top weren’t made in a factory?” she asked Doug quickly. “There are so many.” She turned to Lana. “This seems like an awful lot of intricate work. Mo isn’t a machine.”

He looked up from the packet at her. There was a panicked little boy in his eyes and a flash of appreciation.

“Let’s ask our resident expert.” Doug sighed. He looked at Theo. “Do you know if Faire-goers like things like this?” Theo was looking at the photos as well. He whistled low.

“You crafted these yourself?” he asked, looking at Mo. “We could make bank.”

“See?” said Doug. “Handmade. Artisanal. Higher price point.”

Mo slumped back in his seat.

“And of course, people would be amazed watching you make them. So you have to fit the theme, in cos—garb,” Doug said. Mo had gone pale.

---