Chapter Fourteen
Good Entertainment
Judge Greene was in a foul mood. He paced back and forth across the stage area at the bottom of the town’s outdoor amphitheater, his sharp steps reminding me of an army general about to lead his men into battle.
Eric, who was an ex-NFL wide receiver, scrambled behind him, encouraging him to take deep, full breaths. To not get his blood pressure up.
Most of the town sat in the first three sections of the audience, shifting their bodies on tiered concrete benches that faced the stage.
The amphitheater only sat about a hundred people but was the main gathering spot for any town event, whether it was a local dance academy’s recital, or the community theater’s attempt at doing their own version of Shakespeare in the Park.
Today it was the scene of the final planning session for the town’s annual Veggie Fest. A downtown event dedicated to growing some of the largest vegetables in the state.
It brought in a good portion of the town’s tourism dollars and was named one of the US’s most memorable summer festivals by several major news outlets.
A point of pride for many businesses and locals, including the judge.
I sat on a bench in the center tier about ten rows from the stage with Flora dozing at my feet.
The copse of parched aspen trees surrounding the venue swayed in a slight breath of a breeze.
Small bits of grass and bright green weeds popped up from the dry soil.
The late afternoon sun warmed the top of my head, and I pulled the black band from my wrist and began to braid my hair to help with the blast of early September heat cooking my skin.
Clo and Ms Ruthie were perched in the row in front of me, swapping quiet whispers about the real reason we were all gathered here.
The town’s Veggie Fest was in peril due to a recent downpour that had flooded many of the town’s dry fields, wreaking havoc on some of the monster-sized vegetables the locals grew for the summertime festival that happened in two weeks.
The event had to be a success as it brought in almost twenty percent of the town’s tourism revenue for the year.
Lia took the empty spot beside me, her muddy boots leaving a trail of brownish-red footprints in her wake. ‘Where’s Ast?’ She used her bandana to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She had to be boiling in those khaki pants and steel-toed boots.
‘Preparing for the Desiray wedding. Apparently, they sent Stargazer lilies instead of white for the table arrangements. When Marley’s mother found out, her head practically spun around like that kid in The Exorcist.’
Lia gave me an amused look.
‘Aster’s words, not mine.’
Marley Desiray was a big deal in Harvest Moon.
She’d done a lot of local theater and had a small part in a critically acclaimed independent film, which practically made her a celebrity in this two-stoplight town.
Marley happened to be in Aster’s high school graduating class, so she felt pressure to make sure the wedding flowers were extra special.
It was also the first time in a while she hadn’t made the match.
She’d confided in me that it was a relief to be able to focus on her one job for this wedding: making the bouquets and table settings perfect.
Ms Ruthie patted Flora on the head before giving a friendly wave to Lia. ‘How are the trails looking today?’
‘Messy. We’ve had mudslides on at least four of them.
When we have drought conditions, and then get a bunch of rain, things get dicey real quick.
Chief Malbrough decided to rope off a few paths leading up to the ridge because I told him we were going to get more storms in the next few days.
Not good when we have so many tourists here, many of whom ignore the closed trail signs. ’
Elena hustled down the steps of the amphitheater toward us. I scooched across the cement bench to make room for her.
‘Sorry I’m late. The milk frother is clogged on the espresso machine again. What did I miss?’
‘Not much, except for Eric and Judge Greene running around like their asses are on fire,’ Lia offered.
Elena pulled in a heavy breath, and I slung an arm around her shoulder. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah, a little tired is all. I forget how chaotic the summer months can be. The tourists always wring me out. Every year they throw some new odd coffee order at me, and I have to scour the internet to figure out what the hell they’re talking about.’
‘What is it this year? Can’t be any worse than that cold brew concoction with coconut mango whip,’ I said.
She rolled her eyes over last summer’s regular request. ‘It’s worse this time. They’re all asking for a lavender peppercorn latte.’
Lia made a gagging sound, and I patted Elena’s hand. ‘Only a few more weeks. Once that first cold snap hits us, they’ll hightail it back to their big cities.’
Elena and I continued to whisper about work when Ms Ruthie’s inquisitive gaze found me. She leaned in and whispered, ‘Did you take something from the archives? You know that’s against the rules.’
I froze in my spot, praying Clo did not hear the question. Unfortunately, my grandmother had hearing like she was part bat.
‘You were in the archives?’
The heat in Clo’s voice made Flora whine. ‘I, uh… had to do some research.’ I shot Ms Ruthie a scalding look.
‘Research on what?’ Clo pressed.
‘She was with that young man.’
Ms Ruthie was not helping. I made the move like I was holding handlebars, reminding her of the Vespa conversation, and her mouth snapped shut.
Clo narrowed her gaze. ‘What young man?’
‘Yeah, Dani. What young man?’ Lia was still stewing over my helping Bryce.
‘It was the guy who showed up the night of Aster’s birthday. The one with the sick dog. He’s here to write an article about the town, which I’m sure you’ve heard about.’
Clo’s lips thinned into an unhappy line.
‘I decided it was better for me to be involved. Steer the direction of the article in a certain way,’ I said. ‘Make it more about the town and its history rather than the crap about magic.’
Lia rolled her eyes. ‘And you think this seasoned journalist with numerous writing accolades is going to let you lead him around by the nose?’
Guess she’d done her research after we’d talked the other night.
Clo’s hesitant gaze darted between me and Lia. ‘Did he find anything?’
‘Only what I wanted him to,’ I said.
Elena arched a brow. ‘Look at you being all sneaky and devious. Didn’t know you had it in you, but I love it.’
Clo was not as impressed. Neither was Lia by the dark looks she was tossing at me.
‘I have it under control.’
Lia started to say more but stopped when Judge Greene called for the crowd to be quiet.
He began with asking a few of the farmers about the state of their entries, making sure we hadn’t lost too many of the veggies in the recent storms. When he’d learned almost everyone had saved their prized vegetables, he moved on to general business.
First he asked about traffic control during the festival and volunteers needed for the pie-eating contest. The crowd murmured when he explained the new rules for the knives at the vegetable-carving competition, considering last year we’d had more than one over-eager participant who required stitches at the local emergency room.
Movement flickered in the corner of the amphitheater.
Bryce took a seat on a stone bench on the lower left side of the venue.
An old-fashioned reporter’s notepad sat in his right hand.
A pen in his left hovered over the page.
In the fading afternoon light his hair was the color of warm copper.
That floating feeling spread across my chest and I pushed it away.
I had to see him as the enemy. As the person who could make my life, the life of my family, miserable.
But still, I couldn’t shake the memory of his mouth against mine that night in the clinic.
The throaty gasp he made as I parted the seam of his lips with my tongue.
How hot he looked in the library with a pencil tucked behind his ear, those colored Post-its spread out across his research notebook.
‘You’re staring,’ Elena whispered in a giddy voice.
‘Not true. I’m only amused that he thinks he’s going to learn anything here for his precious article.’
‘Sure,’ she said with a taunting laugh.
It was, well, partially true, because these meetings consisted of exactly three things: Judge Greene thinking this was his courtroom, barking out for quiet.
Mo complaining about not getting a steep enough discount from the local brewers for the event, and Clo telling everyone to shut their traps and get on with it.
It was good entertainment but not very informative.
The judge went on talking, asking for feedback on how the booths should be set up this year. Explaining how we were not doing the outdoor s’mores station due to the high fire risk, which caused more than a few unhappy grumbles in the crowd.
When he started strategizing about how the vegetables were going to be loaded in for the judging, Ernie Brewer raised his hand and asked about using a wheelbarrow to deliver his oversized eggplant.
Elena let out a sharp laugh. Things only got worse when Jacob Newman insisted his cucumber was larger than Ernie’s eggplant.
This time, a loud snort escaped Lia’s lips.
Not to be outdone, Miriam Solarum raised her hand to ask about where to put her giant peach, and a roaring laugh flew out of my own mouth.
The judge tossed an angry look in our direction and Lia, Elena and I huddled together, trying to stop our laughter.
Clo leaned back and said, ‘Whenever you girls are ready to grow up and ignore the not-so-subtle references to how the internet has turned vegetable emojis into sexual body parts, we can move on.’
I slapped a hand over my mouth when Ms Ruthie inquired what the peach emoji meant.