Chapter 1 - Photo Tourists

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SUE

I inspect the little pair of camel colored booties that I just finished crocheting and find them flawless. Sometimes I wish I had a few little ones of my own to make cute stuff for them.

I place the finished product in a box layered with tissue and add a price tag. I put the box on display but then change my mind. I think I will hold on to them a bit longer, although eventually I will have to display them for sale. Finding a guy around here to marry and have kids is as easy as finding a pin in a haystack.

Of course, there are enough single guys in Clover Village, but none of them have what I'm looking for. Plus, many of them are childhood friends of my brothers and therefore I see them as brothers as well. The rest of the men are just middle age and seniors that, like us, are trying to keep the tradition of handicrafts alive.

"They are coming! We are fucked! No, I'm fucked. You are safe!"

I stare at my brother Jesse as he comes inside. He has a mad look on his face as he puts a bag on the counter. He does it in such a quick way that a basket of strawberries jumps out of it and scatters all over the floor.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I say, gathering the berries.

The idiot is just walking in circles while hugging his body.

"I was at the market and saw them coming. I was buying strawberries from Tom. I threw the money and didn't wait for my change. I started running this way."

Eric walks into the store while looking at the post pieces in his hand. He is just the opposite of Jesse right now, looking calm and collected.

"Eric, help me," Jesse says, holding my brother by his arms. Eric looks at him with a scowl.

"What is going on?" Eric says and looks at me. I just shrug. I do not know.

"The photo tour bus," Jesse says, almost in a whisper.

I finally understand what my brother means. I walk around the counter and come to stand next to him.

"Tell me what to save," I say, trying not to smile.

"I don't know! I can't put everything away. Can I?"

I'm trying to stifle a laugh, but it's not working. A month ago, a new tour bus company started coming to Clover Village carrying amateur photographers on their way to Sea Glass Beach. Perfect for business, but a nerve wrecking experience for Jesse.

My brother is a potter. He makes stunning sets of ceramic wares. His biggest pride was a wine decanter with cups. Not only the design was impressive, but the glaze work was beautiful. Jesse had it on display, and it was not to be sold. Then one of the tourists took a photo.

I have never seen so much photography equipment in my life. Not even when we had a photo shoot made to promote the crafts village on the web. The man was wearing a vest with pockets and kept taking things out to mount on his camera tripod. Jesse was almost biting his nails. The man took an eternity to take the photo and then it happened.

The tripod with its thin legs couldn't support the heavy equipment and fell forward. The crash noise was heard all over the place. Even Eric, who was in the back of his workshop, heard it. Jesse looked as if he was about to cry. His precious wine set was on the floor, shattered into pieces.

"I know that everything here has sentimental value to you, but what gave you the most trouble to make?"

"The vases and the olive oil bottles. The ones with the small ears."

I gather the vases. I move a few to a top shelf and bring the rest to the back. I cross with Eric in the hallway.

"Harry said hi," he says.

"That is all he says," I say.

"He is a reserved guy. You should ask him out one day."

"Me? Why me?"

"He likes you, Sue."

"And then what? We are probably going to sit during the date, and he will look at his lap the whole time. I have been through that with him before."

"Really? When was that?"

"At the food fest last year. He was sitting at a table, and I was looking for a place to relax. I asked if I could sit next to him. He mumbled something to his lap, spilled pie on his shirt, and then left in a hurry. Are you convinced that he is boyfriend material?"

Eric smiles, showing the deep dimples on his cheeks.

"ERIC! SUE!"

"Shit, they are here," I say and run to the store, followed by my brother.

A mass of people have entered Garnett House. We see Jesse because he stands out taller than most of our visitors. A woman is suddenly in my field of vision, showing me a camera. I thought she wanted me to take a photo of her, but then she gives the camera to another woman. She makes a weird pose next to me, what I believe is some sort of artsy composition, as the other takes a photo. The flash blinds me. Then another one comes, and another.

They keep taking photos of different combinations of people. I don't even know what is happening with my brothers. I see people with products in their hands, so they must be purchasing something. Eventually, the crowd thins and leave towards the next store.

"How did we do?" I say to Eric.

"Not bad at all. We sold a few hundred dollars. Your embroidered handkerchiefs were popular, and so were my wooden puppets. I even sold a few of Jesse's miniature vases."

I turn to look at Jesse, who is still standing in the same spot.

"Are you okay?" I ask, walking towards him.

Jesse doesn't respond. He is looking at something in his hand.

"What do you have there?"

"A contact card. A girl kissed me on the mouth and gave me that."

"Lucky bastard! And you thought they were coming to bring trouble."

"She isn't a photo tourist, and she is trouble," he says.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she has a boyfriend," he says, staring outside.

I follow my brother's gaze and see a woman. Her arms are around a man's waist, and they are kissing.

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