Meet Me At The Fair
W ith the new freezer in, Grace and her parents could focus on implementing more of the town’s suggestions for improving the store. They had a lot of dinnertime planning sessions to talk about new products and displays, as well as ways to save money without cutting back on the quality of the products they sold. Doc was often part of these dinner discussions. He said it was relaxing after a long day in the doctor’s office. He did seem relaxed, cracking jokes and contributing good ideas. He made such a natural part of the family gathering, Grace could hardly believe there had been a time when she thought she wouldn’t get along with him.
August had come, and with it the county fair. The fair had always been one of Grace’s favorite events of the year. It didn’t matter to her that she didn’t have any animals to show. Her family usually had a booth there, and it was always a good time.
This time, based on the success of her baked goods at the store, Grace had talked her parents into having a booth centered on homemade treats for the hungry fair-goers. Mom was dubious.
“Isn’t there enough sweet stuff at the fair already? Will people want to buy pies and cookies and fudge when they can get elephant ears and cotton candy?”
“I’m sure they will,” Grace said. “I know I’d buy them. And Alex said she would make more of her gluten-free raspberry bars for us to sell.”
“All right, all right,” her mother said. “Mind you, we’re only doing a booth on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. It takes too much manpower away from the store to run a booth all week.”
Grace and Natalie were in charge of running the booth all day on Monday. They packed up the food in boxes the night before, ready to be taken in the van. Besides baked goods, the booth would sell produce from the Martin farm, jars of pickles and jams, honey sticks in many flavors, fudge, and chocolates.
Before sunrise on Monday, Grace got ready for the fair. It was going to be a sunny day, probably a scorcher. She’d need a hat if she didn’t want to get sunburned again. There was a cowboy hat on the top shelf of the coat closet downstairs—it had been hers when she was a teenager. After a hurried breakfast and cup of coffee, on Grace’s way out the door, she grabbed the hat and jammed it on.
Natalie was waiting outside, tapping her foot with excitement, her arms folded as she shivered in the snappy morning air. Maybe Grace should have brought a jacket. But it was bound to warm up soon.
Dad followed her out to give instructions. Neither of the girls had run the fair booth without one of Grace’s parents. He wanted to make sure that the paperwork had been filled out, that none of the food would be kept in the sun, and that there was enough change in the cash box.
The drive was dark and foggy, but the sun was up by the time the girls got to the fairgrounds. They had two hours to set up before the fair opened. As they walked across the grounds carrying the first of two portable gazebos, the place already bustled with people—food vendors setting up, little kids leading livestock, people bringing food and handiwork to enter in contests, and police on horseback making sure everything was going all right. The midway was quiet and still at this hour, but Grace could see the top of the Ferris wheel through the trees.
They finished setting up just as the fair opened. Their booth was near the entrance alongside many other vendors. There were stands selling jewelry, lots of candy, people supporting political candidates, a group with pro-life flyers and bumper stickers, and a booth selling American flags.
People began to wander through, a few at first and more as the morning went on. Business was slower than at Murray’s Grocery, but Grace still thought it was a good thing they were there. The supply of pies and other foods went down slowly but steadily. Grace gave out lollipops attached to flyers with the store’s information. The free candy brought a lot of kids to the booth. Of course, most of the flyers from the lollipops ended up in the trash or on the ground, but the important thing was that people heard about Murray’s Grocery.
Grace’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Doc. “See you at the fair tonight! I’m coming out as soon as the clinic closes.”
Natalie had been exploring. She returned now, her freckles darker than usual in a face that was beginning to sunburn. “Hey, Grace,” she said. “Some of my friends are gonna be here in the afternoon, maybe around two. Could you man the booth while I go around with them? I can take it over for you when they leave.”
“Sure, no problem,” Grace said. “You look a little sunburned, Nat—you might wanna get a hat.”
“There’s somebody selling baseball caps,” Natalie said. “I guess I’ll get one.”
She dashed off. Just then a customer came up and wanted to know what kinds of fudge they had. Grace hurried to find her list of fudge flavors.
A number of people from Fraser’s Mill came by the booth in the afternoon, including Father John, who bought two jars of pickles and a large peach pie and told Grace she had the best booth at the fair. “Your parents are mighty proud of all the hard work you’re doing to keep the store going,” he said. “That’s a big thing to do. Murray’s Grocery is important to all of us.”
“Thank you, Father,” Grace said. “I couldn’t do any of it without all the people who keep helping me out.”
It was great, feeling like a part of the community.
Natalie’s friends—three girls Grace recognized from Fraser’s Mill—showed up in the afternoon and whisked Natalie away to the midway. Grace manned the booth in the gazebo’s shade, not envying the chance to rush around in the heat.
At length Natalie showed up again with a large bag of cotton candy. She plunked herself down on a chair with a sigh.
“Don’t go on that zipper ride,” she told Grace. “The one that flips around and goes upside down. I tried it. Worst thing ever. I thought I was gonna throw up the whole time.”
“Yikes,” Grace said. “You went on that? I couldn’t. I just know I’d throw up. Did you have fun, though?”
“Lots of fun.” Natalie folded her arms on the table and rested her chin on her arms. “I’m wiped out. I can man the booth by myself if you wanna see the fair now.”
Doc wasn’t there yet—it was only five-thirty, and it would take him a while to drive over after closing up the clinic. Grace decided to go down to the grandstand, where draft horse pulls were happening.
The blazing sun made Grace glad for her cowboy hat. She strolled toward the grandstand, taking in everything—the kids running around, the mingled smell of frying food and dust and livestock and pine trees, the noise of people shrieking on the rides. There were lots of American flags and lots of people wearing cowboy hats and boots. Rural Michigan was out in full force.
The grandstand was mostly empty. Draft horse pulls weren’t as popular as some of the other events, like the demolition derby set to take place on Tuesday. Grace found a seat midway up the bleachers in the middle of the grandstand and watched Clydesdales pull weighted sleds. It was amazing how much muscle those animals had.
“On your left,” a male voice said behind her.
Grace turned. “Jim!”
He sat down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“When did you get here?” Grace asked.
“A few minutes ago. I found your booth. Natalie said you went to the draft horse pulls.”
“Yeah, they’re just finishing up.”
“What do you want to do? Have you been around the whole fair yet?”
Grace shook her head. “I wanted to wait for you.”
“Wonderful,” Doc said. “You can show me around. I haven’t been to a fair since I was eleven or twelve. Do you come every year?”
“Not since I moved to California, but I used to come every year. The fair’s changed some, but not much.”
Doc stood up. “Lead the way, Miss Murray. Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch. I do know where I want to eat. You don’t have to eat there if you don’t want to.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “The food truck with the deep-fried butter?”
Grace laughed. “Deep-fried butter? Is that a thing?”
“Right by the carousel. I saw it as I came through.”
“Good grief. Well, I’m not getting that. I always get food from the fair kitchen. Although I do like having all those food trucks around. It’s part of the atmosphere. And I always get an elephant ear before I go home.”
Doc laughed. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as an elephant ear eater.”
“It’s part of the experience. Come on—it’s this way.”
At the fair kitchen, they got hot dogs, French fries, and pie. Grace’s pie was coconut cream and Doc’s was apple. They found a picnic table near the livestock judging arena. Other than the hot sun and a few wasps, which came along to see what Grace and Doc were eating, it was a wonderful dinner.
“Mmm.” Doc groaned, finishing the last bite of his pie. “That was good. Hey, do you bake pies? Or are you a cookies-and-apple-crisp-only kind of girl?”
Grace put her head on one side. “What possible reason could you have for asking that?”
He grinned. “I’m a Hollywood reporter, here to interview the famous Miss Grace Murray for a documentary we’re doing on rural grocery stores.”
Grace laughed. “Next they’ll make documentaries about grass growing. I do bake pies, Mr. Reporter. Not very often, because it takes a long time and always makes a huge mess, but I do bake them. My favorite’s peach pie, made with fresh peaches.”
“Peach pie.” Doc pretended to write on an invisible note-pad. “Thank you, Miss Murray. The American public will be thrilled with your interview. Now that’s over, how about joining me on the midway?”
“Why thank you, Mr. Reporter, I think I will.”
They threw away the trash from their meal and headed toward the midway. It was the busiest part of the evening, and the rides were going nonstop—most of them had long lines of people waiting. Grace and Doc stopped at a ticket booth and bought a sheet of tickets for rides and games.
Doc stopped in front of one of the games, a basketball free throw. Large stuffed animal prizes hung all over the booth.
“That thing’s bound to be rigged,” Grace told Doc. “There’s probably something weird about the basketball or the hoops.”
He appraised the basketball hoop. “We can test that,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to win a prize at a fair. Don’t you want an enormous plush duck?”
Grace laughed. “Go ahead. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
It was two tickets a throw. The man in charge of the game gave Doc a basketball. Doc examined it on all sides, hefting it. “This looks all right. The hoops are pretty high.”
“I wouldn’t have a chance,” Grace said. “I don’t play basketball.”
“I play with the guys every once in a while.” Doc took careful aim and shot. The ball bounced off the rim of the hoop.
“Rigged,” Grace said. “I’ll bet even if you get it in the hoop there’s a sheet of plastic or something inside that makes it bounce off anyway.”
Doc shook his head at her. “You’re not very trusting, are you?” He gave the man two more tickets. “Let’s try this again.”
The basketball bounced off the rim again.
“Third time’s the charm,” Doc said.
He balanced the ball in his hands, a determined look on his face, and let out a long breath. He shot. The ball swished through the hoop.
Grace clapped her hands. “Nice shot!”
Doc was grinning. He turned to the man. “I’ll take that duck, please.”
“I thought you were kidding!” Grace exclaimed.
“Nope.” Doc shook his head. The man handed him the plush duck, and he held it out toward Grace. “It’s all yours.”
“I can’t possibly carry that around for the rest of the fair. It’s gigantic!”
“Then we’ll put it at your booth,” Doc said. “Come on.”
With the duck left under Natalie’s supervision at the booth, they returned to the midway. “Now what?” Doc asked.
“Well, not the Scrambler or anything fast,” Grace said. “I don’t want to lose my dinner. Why don’t we go on the Ferris wheel?”
The view from the Ferris wheel was magnificent. They could see far over pine woods, out to a deep-blue lake. The wind ruffled their hair and tugged at Grace’s cowboy hat. Grace held onto her hat and took a deep breath.
“Hard to beat that view, isn’t it?”
Grace looked at Doc and found him watching her, his blue eyes serious.
She nodded. “It’s gorgeous.”
Doc smiled. “Better than the view from your apartment in L.A.?”
“Much better.”
After the Ferris wheel they stopped at one of the food trucks and ordered an elephant ear with cherries on it. “I used to get one and bring it home in the car,” Grace said. “But I always managed to get the cherries all over everything. Mom made a rule that I could only get one if I ate it at the fair.”
Doc looked askance at the enormous elephant ear, covered in sticky cherries and balanced on a tiny paper plate. “We’d better get a lot of napkins.”
Grace laughed and pulled out a large stack from a napkin dispenser. “This enough napkins for you?”
Music came from a small stage set up not far away, where a bluegrass band was playing. “Why don’t we sit over there?” Doc suggested.
They found a picnic table and sat down with the elephant ear. It was as messy as Doc had predicted and Grace had remembered. No amount of napkins was sufficient to deal with the stickiness.
“I feel like a caveman. But isn’t it good though?” Grace tried to wipe her hands on yet another napkin.
Doc grinned through a bite of elephant ear. “I’ll concede. It’s good.”
The sky turned golden as the sun sank, and they still hadn’t seen the animals. They stopped at a handwashing station to get un-sticky, then made their way to the barns.
Grace didn’t know much about livestock except what Alex had told her about the animals on the Martin farm. She couldn’t tell the difference between a blue ribbon winner and an animal that didn’t even place in the same category, but she loved looking at all of them. In some of the barns kids were mucking out stalls or leading their animals out to be sprayed down at a watering area in order to stay cool. A small girl with an enormous white bow in her hair came by leading a reluctant pig. Sheep nosed at the bars of their pens, interested in the passersby.
“What’s your favorite animal?” Grace asked Doc. They had left the sheep and were walking through the wide area between two rows of barns. The setting sun painted streaks of vivid coral across the sky.
“Well,” Doc said, “I’ve gotta say horses. They’re intelligent and work well with humans. And they’re magnificent animals. When I was little, I wanted to be a cowboy.”
Grace laughed. “Well, I wanted to be a cowgirl. Especially when Alex’s dad let me ride on their horse. He was a very old horse, and he just plodded along, but I thought it was the most exciting thing in the world.”
Doc grinned. “That explains the hat.”
“Oh, yeah.” Grace adjusted her hat. “I haven’t worn it in ages. I didn’t want to get sunburned, and I hate sunscreen.”
“Uh-huh.” Doc’s expression was thoughtful.
“Is everything okay?” Grace asked.
“Absolutely.” Doc reached up and brushed back a stray curl that had fallen across Grace’s face. His hand lingered on her cheek. “Did I tell you how happy I am that you decided to come back?”
Grace smiled. “I think you might have said it on our first date. I can’t remember.”
Doc shook his head. “Then I’d better tell you again.” His eyes were steady. “Grace Murray. I was impressed the first time I met you, but I’m even more impressed now that I know you. You’re a smart, hard-working, self-sacrificing, generous woman. I’d go anywhere and do anything if it meant we could be together.”
“Even if we fight?” Grace asked. Her heart was going a hundred miles an hour. Good thing he was a doctor and knew CPR.
Doc smiled. “Who says we fight?”
He leaned down and kissed her, slowly but with assurance. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him and the world came to a standstill.
He pulled back to look at her, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I should warn you, I’m gonna talk you into marrying me someday.”
Grace raised her eyebrows. “I’m a pretty stubborn person. It might take a lot of talking.”
Doc chuckled. “Then it’s a good thing I live right next door.” He leaned down and kissed her again. “Come on, we oughtta see the rest of the fair before it’s time to pack up for the night.”
She smiled at him. “Why don’t we go see the horses?”
Hand in hand, they walked off into the setting sun.