Chapter 3 #2
Sheriff Gordon started to move in their direction, his expression suggesting he'd rather be anywhere else.
He was a tall man, his sheriff's hat easily visible over the crowd, barrel-chested and imposing in his uniform.
Most people just called him Sheriff Gordon rather than stumbling over his Polish surname, Willinski, which seemed to suit him fine.
He'd been a police chief in a larger town before taking the job here, and Sara Lee suspected he'd chosen Meadowlark Creek specifically because it was quiet.
Before Gordon could reach them, the argument ended with Horace steering his brother away from the crowd. Petunia followed, her spine rigid with humiliation. The festive atmosphere still reigned, even though a few people openly stared as the Meltons walked away.
Sara Lee served more coffee, but her attention remained snagged on Raymond as he wandered back through the festival. He wasn't leaving, but instead seemed determined to make himself as unpleasant as possible.
He stopped at the lemonade booth where Lucy was waiting for her drink. Sara Lee was too far away to hear the exchange, but she saw Lucy's face go white, then red. Raymond said something that made Lucy's hands clench into fists. Then she picked up a small cup of lemonade and threw it in his face.
The crowd gasped. Raymond laughed as he wiped lemonade off his face with his sleeve. Lucy looked like she wanted to throw more, but Pastor Pete appeared by her side and gently guided her away with his hand on her shoulder, whispering words in her ear.
"Holy moly," Barb breathed, her eyes wide.
Sara Lee agreed but remained quiet as she gazed around the festival grounds. When she looked toward the library, she noticed Diane was missing, but Nana June seemed unfazed, even though her gaze was locked on where Raymond had last stood.
Near noon, Helena and Pastor Pete were still helping at the church's baked goods booth when Raymond wandered over.
Sara Lee watched the encounter with growing dread. Raymond leaned against the booth, his flask visible in his hand, and said something to Helena. Her face went from pale to ashen. The only words Sara Lee caught across the distance were "cookbooks" in Raymond's slurred voice.
Helena's hands shook so badly that she dropped a pie. It splattered across the grass, and the cherry filling spread like a blood stain. Pastor Pete tried to intervene, but Raymond just laughed again and wandered away.
"Someone needs to throw that man out," Barb said fiercely. "He's ruining everything."
But throwing out the judge's brother wasn't simple, even if he was obnoxious. Sheriff Gordon kept a watchful eye on Raymond but didn't intervene, which made her wonder if Judge Melton had asked the sheriff not to make a spectacle unless he had no other choice.
Carl appeared around one-thirty, carrying two paper plates loaded with barbecue from the Lions Club booth. "Lunch?" he offered, his smile tentative. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got a little of everything. And just so you know, my grandfather already took a plate to Ms. June.”
Sara Lee's irritation at Raymond dissolved, and she turned toward Carl and smiled. "That's perfect. Thank you."
They sat on the grass behind the booth, where they could still see the crowd and keep an eye on Nana June who was now resting in a camping chair brought by Ted.
Sara Lee breathed easier, enjoying their moment of relative peace.
The barbecue was delicious with pulled pork and tangy sauce, coleslaw, and cornbread dripping with butter.
Carl told her about the dogs he'd seen today, his enthusiasm for his work evident in every word.
"There was this tiny Chihuahua who thought she could take on a Great Dane," he said, grinning. "I've never seen such misplaced confidence."
She laughed, and for a few minutes, forgot about Raymond and his presence at the festival. Carl had that effect… he made things feel simpler, lighter.
"So," he said, suddenly awkward. "The Summer Solstice dinner at church is in a few weeks. Would you... I mean, if you're not busy... would you want to go with me?"
Sara Lee's heart did an odd little flip. "Like a date?"
"Yeah. Like a date." His ears turned red. "Unless that's weird. We could just go as friends if—”
"I'd like that," Sara Lee interrupted. "As a date. Yes."
His whole face lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
They smiled at each other like idiots until Barb's voice cut through the moment: "Sara Lee! We're getting slammed over here!"
The afternoon rush had hit. Sara Lee jumped up, brushing grass off her shorts. "I have to—"
"Go," Carl said, standing too. "I'll come back later. Help pack up, maybe?"
"That would be fabulous! We’ll be ready to drop by then!"
He walked away with a grin on his face, and Sara Lee couldn't stop smiling as she returned to the booth. Barb raised her eyebrows but mercifully said nothing as she handed Sara Lee a cup to fill.
The festival continued with the sounds of music, laughter, and children's voices.
But Raymond continued to move through it like a shadow, spreading discomfort wherever he went.
Sara Lee watched him argue with Bob near the lumberyard's booth.
The only words she caught were something about money and old debts.
Bob's face went red with anger, his fists clenched, but his son, Bill, pulled him away before anything escalated.
Around four o'clock, Raymond approached Barb's coffee booth. Sara Lee smelled him before she saw him… bourbon and sweat and something sour.
"Coffee," he demanded, not asked. His words slurred together.
"Coming right up," Barb said with professional politeness, though Sara Lee saw her jaw tighten.
Raymond leaned against the table, his eyes unfocused. "You're a pretty thing," he said to Barb. "Bet you get lots of attention."
"Sir, here’s your coffee." Barb set the cup down firmly.
"How about you give me your number with that coffee?" His grin was sloppy.
"No, thank you." Barb's voice stayed polite, but Sara Lee could see her discomfort.
"Come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that." Raymond reached across the table, his hand going for Barb's wrist.
Barb jerked back. "Don't touch me."
"I was just being friendly—"
"The lady said no." Deputy Tom Parsons appeared seemingly from nowhere, his hand resting meaningfully on his belt near his handcuffs. His usually friendly face was set in hard lines. "Move along, Mr. Melton."
Raymond's expression turned ugly. "You threatening me, deputy?"
"I'm suggesting you get your coffee and go. Now."
For a moment, Sara Lee’s breath caught in her lungs, expecting that Raymond might escalate the confrontation. Then he grabbed his coffee, sloshing some over the rim, and stalked away muttering something crude under his breath.
"Thank you," Barb said quietly to Tom.
"Anytime." His expression softened when he looked at her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just... what a nasty man."
Tom lingered a moment longer, clearly wanting to say something more. Then he just offered a chin lift before duty called him away. Barb watched him go, a small smile playing at her lips.
"Well," Sara Lee said. "That was… interesting."
"He asked me out earlier today," Barb admitted, then rushed, "Tom, I mean. Not that horrible man."
"And?"
"And I said yes. We're going to dinner Saturday." Barb's smile widened.
"You know he’s been sweet on you since high school. You’ve just never seemed to notice before."
Barb blushed. “Better late than never,” she quipped, grinning.
Sara Lee hugged her friend, genuinely happy.
Today might have Raymond darkening it, but good things were happening too.
Carl had asked her out. Tom and Barb were finally going on a long-anticipated date.
The festival was beautiful, and it seemed most people enjoyed celebrating their lovely town and the start of summer.